Alone in a crowd

 ...or why I turned down invites to celebratory events and have been labeled as antisocial.

One of the first times I realized that even in a happy crowd, as a Widow, I felt completely isolated and uncomfortable. I went to photograph a wedding as an extra. They thought the activity would be fun for me. It was, until it wasn't. I felt extremely alone in a crowd.

Rich and I used to be tied at the hips and go to family reunions and gatherings. After his stroke, he didn't want to go anywhere, but asked me to go instead. I shared everything with him. How was your day? How was your workout? I was his eyes and ears for walks in the forest and other events.

I do still go to CrossFit and work out. But the atmosphere for me has changed. The others haven't changed, I've changed.

Some of the ladies who come do nothing but talk about their outings and events they have gone to. Lots of socialization with others. I get that, it was the same before Rich died. I just sort of laughed and would come home to care for Rich and tell him all about it. We'd chuckle together. All we needed was each other, right?

The CrossFit open competition starts this week at the end of February. Local gyms pay $20 and get picked on teams who compete at their own gyms. It is a fun competition and I've done it. You score each workout according to your age category and at the end of the games you find out 'how you compare to others in your age group'.

I've done well in years past, but that isn't the point now.

I don't care. I don't want to be in the gym with a huge crowd of family, onlookers, competitors, and the noise.

It literally makes me feel extremely ALONE. As if I am nothing but a ghost experiencing a loss of myself. The old me would have been cheering others on, helping out, jumping up and down, and joining in. Not this me. Not right now. 

Even on regular days now, I feel disconnected from everyone else. The new ladies think I am standoffish. They kept nagging me along with the coach --- they have been doing this each workout for the past few weeks. 

SIGN UP VAL COME ON, IT WILL BE FUN! Yep, they yelled, then the one loud mouth asked me WHY NOT? When I shook my head.

"I don't do crowds right now." I stared hard at her. "I'm still...mourning." I fluttered my hands.

"I just can't." 

I nearly walked out of the gym then when the silence hit. You could have heard a pony tail band drop.

The looks I got the rest of that hour were ones of side glances. It was if I'd introduced them to the Black Plague. Did I have a dark cloud hanging over me? 

Two other ladies in the gym did come up quietly and tell me they completely understood where I was coming from and that it was fine with them. One is Pat who I hike with, and the other is part of our monthly threesome that get together once a month for coffee and chat about grand kids and whatnot.

The coach who used to be a really fine friend never uttered a word. Never said a thing. Through the last few years of Rich's life she was always there with a word of support. 

Rich died. He has been erased by my casual friends. It is if he never existed. 

That's a cold hard truth that widows suffer.

No one asks, they go on. 

I feel like I am not on the same plane of time or space with them. I live in a slightly skewed dimension.

But he is not erased and my two friends and I get together every once in a while and tell stories about our spouses and laugh and they keep me afloat.

I still go to the gym. I still work out. The ghost of me works out. But some days I seriously question the joy of it.

----

Still figuring it out

Your death didn't just break my heart
it also changed who I was
it changed my entire world.

It taught me things I didn't 
want to learn.

I keep wanting to share everything
with you like before.

But now? I stand stunned
in empty rooms.
I don't know what to do.
I get stuck and just
stare
out a window.

Some days I mourn my old life with
you
as much as I mourn you.

Even when you were in Hospice 
and dying, we still talked. 

We still made decisions together.
Always together.

And now.
I have to make them ALL

on my own.

Some people think I should be 'over it' by now. After all, my caring for him has been a long journey. I should have been prepared. We spent 6 months together in the dying process. Each precious moment sometimes felt like forever.

I sometimes wish we had longer and know we didn't. 

The death of a close loved one changes you. 

For 30 years we were partners. Our lives were so intertwined that we were part of each other.
But your gone. So half of me is gone too.

But who am I now? I feel as if I am missing half of me. It is hard to figure out who I am. I have to recreate myself in some ways.
The joy of sharing my escapades and adventures is gone so what is the point of them? 

When I had a bad day, you'd comfort me, even if you weren't feeling well.

I'm trying to be normal around others and I think I pull it off pretty well. Most of the time. 

I'll sit at the gym before our class and listen to some of the ladies talk about pretty bullshitty stuff. Stuff that seems to not matter anymore, not to me at least. I wonder what would happen if I told them what I thought.

They'd just think I'm a nasty woman. Really? Makeup and gym tights are things worth fretting over?

 ~~~~

Death and grief changes you.
It changes your perspective on everything. I do mean everything.

And then comes a bad day. I mean bad enough that nothing goes right. 

For the very first time in my life, I could not do anything. I didn't care. I just sat in the quiet of the house and knew I had entered a place of emotional numbness. I felt nothing. Not even pain. 

Charlie crept into my lap and made no demands. 

For a whole day, I was lost. 

I gave myself that day. I had earned it.

I promise...

          I promise not to be sad every day that I can't talk with you. Every time I go hiking I notice things that we'd talk about when I got home.

Even when you were quite ill, you'd smile and ask me "How was your walk? What did you see?" Or "What did you do at the gym, how was your work out?"

We'd laugh together about my version of events while working out or hiking. 

Things like tripping on a rock and sitting on the ground and seeing something so beautiful that the rock must have said Trip Val! 

Make her see this amazing clump of tiny mushrooms hiding just off the trail.

The times I outran 'kids' 25 years younger than me while doing a gym workout. I'd come home and share that with you and you were so tickled. You'd laugh that deep loud laugh and slap your knee.

You'd wink at me and ask for more details.

I recall the trip I took to Hawaii as a chaperon for my 82 yr old father. I'd come back from taking Dad somewhere and the hotel desk told me to call home, it was urgent.

I called wondering what was wrong. You finally told me that you were standing by the wash machine and you didn't know how to run it. Hilariously, you ran out of clean jeans. I stood on a balcony overlooking the Pacific and gave you instructions on how to do laundry. 

Everyone thought that was such a funny and such a YOU story. The man who couldn't wash dishes or do laundry on his own.

Every time I walked out the door to go to work you were there. Every time I came home, you greeted me as enthusiastically as our dog did..

"How was your day? How was your shift? How was your walk? How was your ride?"

I never tired of telling you. You never stopped listening. 

So today I came home to Charlie and spoke to you even though you physically were not here.

I told you about my class, about shopping, and about everything I could think of. 

I held your picture and relayed all the things you needed to know. I even asked your opinion on what was for supper. I joked that you wouldn't like the broccoli and cauliflower but I was making it anyway.

They might send me to the nuthouse one day if anyone knows how often I talk to you. Charlie is a good listener, but he tends to get distracted easily.

Today was okay. I miss you. I'm glad we agreed that you wouldn't eat broccoli and cauliflower with your chicken. More for me.

See yah.

4 months

Hello 2026.

Something odd has happened. 

I'm trying to distract me from myself.

IF I hike every Single Day for a good distance, I am too tired to miss you. Well, sort of. That is, until the lights go out and I am trying to go to sleep.

Or in the evening when I am trying to distract myself with photography. 

IF I am not busy, I might start grieving. I thought I had all of that settled. 

Apparently not. 

Grief. 

You keep barging in when I am not ready for you. Stop it.

Just when I am doing fine someone comes up to me in the bank or in the store and puts their hand on me and looks sorrowfully into my face.

And they ask in that husky drawn out breathless way... "Oh...howww are youuuuu doing?" Do I bitch slap them and say, "I was doing fine until you asked and I had to think about it?"

Otherwise people are ignoring that subject now anyway. After all, 4 months have passed, but who is counting? 

I am. Because I keep turning around while doing something and start to ask you out loud what your opinion is on something. Then I ask anyway and listen to you talk inside my head or...at least what I imagine your answer would be.

How about the icky creepy neighbor who stopped me in a parking lot. He asked if I had a 7 or 8 foot brush hog to sell? Maybe the vulture in him waited an appropriate time before he started to ask about me selling stuff. 

I had been working with someone else on two things. I hadn't given any of the old equipment sitting in the weeds a second thought. I figured those items would go when I settled on having an auction or two.

I got the false smile and the sad look at the same time. He said he'd call and come to take a look at what I had. Here the creepy neighbor was offering to stop by and look over things. His demeanor sent chills up my spine.

I waved him off with no answer. I didn't intend to be impolite, but I also didn't expect to be approached in a freezing cold parking lot. I should have said he could wait for the auction announcement.

Except I haven't settled on that yet. I'm not brave enough quite yet to call around to auction companies.  

Disappearing your 'stuff' would make things final. 

I'm still working up to that step darling. It's a big one.

A Christmas Nightmare

She stared at the Christmas decorations. Those hateful happy colors of warm lights. 

The grief 'support' people had given her handouts of how to prepare for the first Holiday without her husband.

Light a candle for your loved one.
Wrap a gift for the loved one and put it under the tree.
Start a new tradition.

How about this, she thought. Cancel the stupid day. Burn the tree, throw out the decorations. Lock the doors and shut off the phones. Go into a cave of sorrow and spend the time in there with the pains and the hurts that came in waves upon waves.

She just turned off her cellphone. Who knew that this Christmas would be so much more special than a normal nightmare? Who knew that she'd be so sick, that she couldn't leave the empty house or have company? 

To top it all off, the texts from two close friends were constant, asking "what do you need?" Her two sons texting to ask how she was feeling?

She bundled up and went out to check on her animals. At least her fever had broken after 4 days of 101F Hell.
The cold air felt good and the dog was running with happy bursts of speed up and down the driveway. Well, she thought follow the dog. Just do it slowly. 

The walk was slow, not her normal pace, but the cool moist air felt good in her lungs. Back at home she and her dog sat on the porch and watched her equine eat their hay. They stayed like that for a long time until she had a coughing fit.

As an afterthought, she turned her phone back on. It started to buzz and ding with notifications. So many notifications. Her first thought was to turn the phone back off.

Merry Christmas!
Happy Holidays!
Happy emoji with Santa Claus!
Photo of family around their tree, smiles!
Merry Merry
and on and on...

Swipe, Swipe, Swipe,

Both of her sons checked in and she quickly typed an update.

Two friends inquired if she wanted them to come over and help with the animals.
"Got it." After all, she was sick, but not dead.

It was the night that got her. 

You see, no brochure tells you what it feels like to sit there in the silent house without the person you are missing. No one tells you how gut wrenching it feels and how you'd do anything within your power to hold his hand one more time. 

Just having another human to sit next to her and be there would have been nice. But the person would just have to be silent and there. Her one son offered. She declined his offer, she didn't want him to get sick.

It's Christmas Eve.

She got off the couch and slowly took the ornaments off the tree and removed the rest of the decorations around the house.  

She left the lights on the Christmas Chair so they can ward off the winter darkness for now.

Maybe next year.
Maybe next year I can try it again.

Friday's musings...and first steps

I woke up Friday morning in a foul sad mood and wanted to hold on to that "I hate the world mood" for the day.

My first thought was to cancel my gym workout and the luncheon date afterwards at my girlfriend's house. Why go and try to act all nice and all happy.

I decided to make myself go. I still didn't want to go when I got in the car and drove to town. I was still angry-sad. I was willing to be a Grumpet.

When I walked in the door and changed into my gym shoes, another member of the Legends quipped, "Oh boy that looks hard!" --> Meaning the workout that we would do was finishing up from the previous class. She smiled with such an engaging smile that I had to smile back. I felt my anger slipping away.

I said, "Well, we are Legends. We should request to take out the mats and have 'nap time' while the coach plays beautiful music for us."

That idea grew into a discussion. One day we'd show up in our PJ's and bring pillows and blankies and tell the coach our work out of the day is a nap and sleepy quiet time.

Slowly, I could feel the Grinch-tude leaching out of my bones. We started the warm up. As usual, I did something goofy [class clown] and the laughter was loud. The work out was hard. 300 meteres of rowing, box step ups [step up on a raised surface of 20 inches or less and step down], and burpees all modified for us older folks. 

I went at it like I was tackling a demon. The relief from being angry-sad became quite evident. I could smile and engage with other gym members. The sad still was there, I didn't want to go to the luncheon, but Pat who was putting it on stood next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. 

"Come on," she said, "Home made chili and good food. I'll even make sure you have some to take home."

My friend Pat has been supportive all along ... ever since I met her a year and a half ago. She never says sorry, never asks 'how are you doing' in the drama voice. She never asks but manages to make sure I tell her anyway. She offers nothing but to be a quiet friend who will message me at 5am to see if I am doing okay, no need she says to reply, just sent a thumbs up or down.

During the luncheon [wonderful food!] I end up talking with Emma who is going through trying to get her significant other well enough to come home so she can care for her. Emma is a retired doctor, she is in her 80's and has sought me out because I've walked this path more than once. 

I ask Emma how her Kathy is doing and she opens up and tells me everything that is on her mind while we eat. 

I see as she talks with me that is having a profound effect on both of us. We are sharing our grief and knowledge in an amazing way. She is a doctor and is asking me to just listen. I can see that she is getting things off her mind and I listen so intently that I don't hear the other folks at the table.

Emma gives me a squeeze on the arm when she is ready to leave and thanks me for listening.

As the others leave, I start to clear dishes and help Pat clean up. We get the dishes cleared and Pat pours us each a cup of coffee and tells me to sit down.

"You had another one of THOSE mornings, didn't you?"

I nod. "This helped immensely, thank you for making me come."

We fall silent and gaze out of her little cafe and look at the beautiful winter wonderland of melted snow and ice.

I tell her that I'll miss next week's workouts because I'll be sitting for my friends while they do a 5 day chemo treatment. 

Pat makes a face and then smiles at me. "Being with a 2 yr old and a 4 yr old will be the best thing for you during Christmas." 

"Indeed Pat. I will feel loved and needed and important to someone with this coming week. It will be good to chase around little ones."

Pat looked down at her coffee, she is such a wise friend. "Val, you give and give and give of yourself. You are a gift to anyone who knows you. I don't believe you know how much you are respected and loved in our class either. When you aren't there and you were caring for Rich, others would say that they just wished they were like you."

"Giving," I reply, " is the only way I can feel better. "I don't feel like I am just an old widow sitting in her house and glaring at the world or crumbling to pieces. I feel self worth if I can help either by doing or listening."

We finish our coffee and I tell Pat that I am terrified and excited about a hiking club I joined and that my first hike was on Saturday morning with complete strangers. 

Half of me says, don't go. Part of me says, it is too long of a drive. Another part of me says, this is just right up your alley.

I want to stay home. But if I go and I enjoy it, I just may expand my world and find new friends. That could be a good thing.

Pat takes a sip of coffee and says quietly, "Go do it. Let me know how it went when you are done."

It is much better than staring at the Christmas Tree chair and thinking about putting it all away because I am the only person enjoying it.

I packed a backpack with my spare gloves, some food, some water, and my normal hiking stuff last night.

I put my key to the car on top of the pile, I set a timer and put the directions to the meet up place in my phone to take me there.

I am terrified and excited to take that first step.

Fingers crossed.

And yes -- Rich told me to go, meet some folks. I'm proud of you girl [he'd say that anytime I had doubts]

Advice on what now...

 Actually, I don't have any advice. Period. 

Everyone says: It will get better. It will.

Alert.

It hasn't. IF it wasn't this time of year, perhaps I could distract myself in the long dark cold evenings or I could distract myself during the long ... cold...dark mornings. 

My saving grace is forcing myself to go do things when it would be so much easier just to wrap up in a blanket with Charlie at home and watch the wall do nothing. 

This is called depression and it is classic. However, it did not hit me hard until 3 months later. I have a feeling that I am not the only one to go through this, but at night with just the soft light coming from the Christmas Chair, it feels as though I AM the only person in the world experiencing this.

In fact at 3am, 4am, 5am...I know I am the only person in the world experiencing such harsh, painful, and gut wrenching grief. No one else in the world knows what it is like.

Charlie sits up and stares at me. He can only sigh and move closer. My stomach aches, my eyes burn, my throat tightens. Then nothing. I am numb. I am tired. I am angry, sad, frustrated all at the same time. How on earth can that even be?

Yesterday was so happy, so fun, and so energizing. The dark morning is so wretched. I get up, light the scented candles, and made some decafe. 

I stop at the sink and look at the dishes I didn't wash last night. My first thought is to throw the dishes in the trash. I know I'd regret it so I stack them into a sink tub to do later. Maybe the dish fairy will show up and clean them. I don't even want to look at them. For some reason I hate them. 

The 4 dishes and 2 cups show me that only one person lives here. 

Stupid.

I want to kick something, but don't.  I feed Charlie and he gobbles up his breakfast and stares at me until I realize that his grunts are for his morning chew treat that is supposed to clean his teeth.

Good Dog. He makes me move from where I was glued to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I finally decided that I was going to force myself to go to the gym and work out with my gym pals, my support group. We gals wore our Friday shirts that says CrossFit Legends-I'll be there for you T-shirts.

We'd done a hard cardio workout and then Deadlifts which are everyone's favorites. I did a life time achievement lift. I weigh 118 lbs and lifted 160.  The coach was exuberant as were the others. Oddly enough, I wasn't, I just shrugged.

Then I helped Charlene who was having trouble with stretching out afterward. Julie came up and hugged me telling me that her new cancer treatment was hopeful. Pat came up to me in the parking lot with a meal of Chicken Gumbo and Rice that she'd made and handed it to me. She thought a homemade meal would be good for me.

When I got in the car to drive home, I didn't want to kick the dog or scream at the world. Even though there was freezing drizzle, I felt oddly comfortable and pleasant.

Then came the phone call from Olive. She apologized and said she had a BIG ask. What was I doing for Christmas Week?

I immediately told her I was available for whatever she needed. Nate was going to have his second round of 5 days of chemo from the 22nd to the 26th. I said I'd clear my schedule and there it was. I could watch her 2 and 4 yr old boys for the week while they did the infusions.

She apologized for the Big Ask during Christmas and I said I that I could think of no better way to spend the Holidays but with children. 

So, my what now advice? I don't have any. But when others reach out, it makes life a bit better.

No one really knows how much they helped me on Friday. But I do.