Widow a term and phase of life.

  

January 1, 2021 out the front window

 With winter in full swing, although we have minimal snow by MN standards, it is grey and overcast. Without the blue skies and sunshine for a couple days, my mood, could swing low, in fact it calls for me to sit beside this  desktop computer and turn on my happy light for an hour.  That helps. Fresh air is another tonic  but the overcast gloom and the 20 something degree temperatures are not conducive to my spending much time outside.  .  

   A FB friend another one of us now singles or my term a more recent  widow, asked me, "has the term "widow" hit you yet? So hard to process our hubby's are gone 

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  I replied, "Strange you would mention, I have been talking to myself about that. Self, I say, you are now officially a widow. Self replies, " a widow?" Yes, I say, that means solo. Self says after a quiet moment, well I suppose I always knew it would be, Jerry was 7 years older. But he was always so healthy and the longevity, 97--100 year olds goes back generations in his family to hearty pioneers. It is a different term. I think of all the widows I know, odd to be one for sure."
• So here I am a New Year, 2021, and flying solo.  I looked for the etymology of the word widow today and learned this, "A widow is a woman whose husband has died. Back in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, it was common to use widow as a prefix to a woman's name, instead of "Mrs." The Indo-European root word of widow means "be empty."  

I experience those spurt moments when feelings rise from within and  and spill out my eyes.  This morning I felt one and said, "oh this is getting worse"  here's what they all warned me about.  People ask if I am getting used to it and I say "yes"  what choice do I have. I have never been a whiner nor sniveler, it's very unbecoming and nobody wants to hear it.  .  

So far the worst is accepting quietness around the house. Not that Jerry and I talked all day long to each other, but it is just  knowing there is now no one except for God to hear me, and no longer hearing the din from his oxygen concentrator which had become like a roaring white noise background. I honestly cannot remember being without him after 53 years.  .When I do not venture out of the house I might not have any human contact other than by phone or Facebook that day. Despite how busy I am with packing away holiday decorations that were sparse this year and completing paperwork,  I miss real human contact.  I miss his hugs,  sometimes in a spurt moment or just for reassurance I walk into the coat closet where his jackets still hang and wrap the flannel wool jacket sleeves over my shoulders and  snuggle against it.  I would not wish Jerry back to suffer as he did towards the end nor to live in that bed, but how I do wish we could have continued our life.  It was not to be and wishes are useless. 

I miss his fix it ability.  He could and did repair any and everything, he was so handy, I always had Jerry to rely on and I did.  And well, frankly I have never had an aptitude nor interest in anything mechanical,  fixes or anything like that.  As long as it works, I'm happy.  We made a good team   He did that all and I went merrily along my way.  Packing away the Christmas things I had a couple mishaps,  I do every year, something breaks.  Jerry always rescued me and fixed it.  

  This year it was angel's wings that broke loose and I was slightly tempted to just toss her,  broken, forget it.  But I could not do that, a perfectly good angel, where would I find another like her.  So with a trip to the hardware  store in town and purchase of Gorilla Glue I did  fix her.  Then as usually happens another problem I pulled a section of the old roof loose from our first manger set that Jerry bought  when we were first married, 53 years ago, our first Christmas.  I did not want o put it away broken and wonder what happened over storage all year when I pull it out again. I examined and saw that I could reattach it easily with the tacks that stuck out but could see it needed glue as well.  This would be a good job for the white glue on hand.  I mean literally on hand, glue poured  all over mine, a dandy mess, but I did repair the roof.   While waiting for it to dry and feeling proud of myself I decided to add another touch, an improvement to this 53 year old piece.  When our ash trees were cut down years back I saved a couple pieces  of wood.  I did not know what I would do with them but wanted them, just in case.  Well, sure enough one piece could go onto the roof as an addition,  I stained it and added some paint and glue it there too.  When our weathe improves I will gather some more moss to reattach to the roof as it has shed over the years, but that can wait. 

So I am getting by. I figure it is a good day too when I learn something. Yesterday I learned the difference between hoar frost and rime frost which was unknown to me. A friend admitted she'd learned the term rime working crossword puzzles.

Taken from a ridge outside of LaCrescent

"Many woke up Sunday morning to a frosty and icy wonderland! What many often times mistake as hoarfrost can actually be a phenomenon called "rime ice." While they look very similar,  process of how they form is what's different.     

Rime ice often times forms in dense freezing fog, like we all saw last night. It is when supercooled water in the fog (water that is still liquid but below freezing) freezes on contact with the surface and turns to ice. Rime ice can often look like fragile ice needles when up close. It sure is fascinating!

Hoarfrost is when gas (water vapor) turns to ice without passing through the liquid phase. It generally forms on clear, cold and humid nights with little wind."

There it is another blogpost for today,  my time sitting by the happy light ahs passed.  So off I am.