Endurance in grief

 I really hate grief and there is not much in life I hate.  I am not comfortable with hate.  It is a bitter emotion and useless I have always thought.  But living with the grief of being a widow, I can truly say I hate.  I do not like it and all I can do is just go through, endure, because here I am.

Last night I took the refresher class for Defensive Driver for seniors, those over age 60.  This happens every two years and gets me 10% discount off my car insurance rate.   I usually learn or relearn something too.  It is a useful refresher but I wish it were not every 2 years and that the class did not take 3 hours.  e get out early if the people will not ask incessant silly questions of the instructor or feel the need to say what happened to them when.  But people seem compelled to have to comment.  Our instructor is a local friend, retired State  Highway  Cop and semi truck driver still.  He does his best to move things along.  He had explained answering a question about why bicyclists who are to obey the same road rules as vehicles are not cited for violations,  because judges do not want to be bothered.  How many police officers will waste their time writing tickets that a judge will toss?  No back up to enforcement gets no enforcement, pure and simple.  It was not 5 minutes later when another woman asked "why aren't bicyclists given tickets?"  Sheesh, lady pay attention he just went through it.  If these people can pay no more attention to driving than they do in class, no wonder they are considered risky.  

At the start of the class my grief smacked me between the eyes.  The instructor opens the class asking everyone to write the names of 5 people in their lives important to them.  I do not have 5, in fact I do not really have any now that Jerry is gone.  I stretched to come up with 2 names, and yet I know I am not that important to them.  I do not hear from anyone routinely, let alone so called family.  When Jerry and I last took this refresher class together, at least I had him and a late friend, she is now gone too.  Our son has been gone since 2008, I truly have no one.  The next step was to cross off 2 of the 5 names at random which signifies the number or percentage of those who will be killed by distracted or intoxicated/drugged drivers. The exercise has lost all meaning to me. 

A FB contact on the FB Grief Speaks Out site shared this poem with me::::: 

FRIENDS DON'T COME BY

 

Friends don't come by too often,

ever since you went away.

I think they feel uncomfortable

and just don't know what to say.

 

On the times they do stop by

they never stay too long,

"I really must get going"

is always their same old song.

 

I try to keep them talking

'bout news and other stuff,

I don't let them see me crying,

or tell them how things are so rough.

 

But deep inside I really wish

they would ask me how I'm doing,

and sit and listen as I cry

not tell me stop "boo hooing".

 

I wish they'd try to understand

this pain inside my heart,

for though I knew it could happen,

I wasn't ready for us to part.

 

But since they don't I'll just get by,

I'll stay busy and try to smile,

until the day God calls me home

and I walk my one last mile.

 

© Forrest Phelps-Cook

  

Getting along aloneness

Last nights dinner,oven roasted
salmon, fries and tomatoes,
Polish cucumber salad

Unlike others who are alone, I continue to cook meals for myself. Local restaurants in town are few and menus limited.  I have not wanted to venture out for a Friday night dinner alone anywhere truthfully.  I want to enjoy my glass or two of wine with my meal and find that better done at home.  

 The past couple weeks when our temps were unseasonably hot for us in June, 90', I ate mostly salads thrown together from whatever was in the refrigerator  or made a good sandwich out of turkey.  It would be easy to shrug, why bother, but I know I must continue to eat healthily to maintain myself.  Yet at dinner time I am most lonesome, eating alone, no one across the table, no one to even complain. Jerry did not often complain about foods but I was often on a salmon kick for Fridays and every so often he would ask, "can't we have anything but salmon?"  Sometimes I made shrimp. scampi too. And often we would go out to eat, but he often ordered the fish always fried too.

But good salmon at home, cannot be beat in my opinion. It is easy to fix and since I am particular and selective in what I buy, has to be fresh at the meat counter and if fresh flown in from Alaska is available, I pay the price,  so I always have great salmon. I discovered the brand, Grown in Idaho,  frozen French fries are just as good as any home fried with dinner and easy in the oven, they roast with the salmon. I have not fried French fries in so many years.  Now when I fix salmon I have left over for the next day or so.  I have now used up all the salmon in my freezer so when I purchase I can buy smaller portions and prevent so many left overs.   All my life I have not eaten meat on Fridays and although my Catholic faith changed that restriction to only during Lent, I have always stayed with meatless Fridays.  Last night I harvested fresh dill from my herb plant and made the cucumbers in sour cream, a Polish delicacy for me.  It is ogorki w/ smietanie or mizseria....in Polish.  I used up one large cucumber and  still have some of that for a snack.  I truly savored my fresh dill,  like the scent when picked.  I had it and a sprig of fresh rosemary for the salmon,  truly fragrant too.

Rhubarb patch, puny needed fertilizer

So I continue to do all my work inside and out and some days have overdone myself, like Wednesday when I hauled  sacks of manure down to the garden to replenish the rhubarb which was puny this year. I did not get enough to do anything with.  I recalled old late farmer friend always said to feed it manure, well it has been without for a couple years.  Although he recommended dousing it late fall to prepare it for winter, when I spotted the manure bags at our local hardware store I was inspired.  This was a monumental task and although they loaded the sacks for me I  had to get them out of the truck and to the garden.  My handy cart worked but I had to hoist the bags into and out of it, could have used help but having none, I tackled it. The heat was worse  than I expected because it was sporadically cloudy and not reaching those awful 90 degrees we'd endured for weeks.  Still our clean clear sky, unfiltered northern sun were hot and sweat drenched me from head to toe but I got it done.  Truthfully it got me overdone, exhausted and that evening I went to bed at 9:00, lights out. I had no one here to tell me, "ok that's enough for now"  but then if I had it would have been Jerry and he'd have carried the bags for me, helped, etc.  But again here I am. 

 The gardens/flowers  are looking great even if the grass and lawns are parched, but today we have rain and the lawns recover quickly.  I sure hope we have the worst of the heat behind us and our beautiful  summer weather returns.   

Apple Jack rose in front blooming
late this year

Grief musings

  I have not posted here for awhile, but we had Jerry's committal service May 7, as I had planned, on his 84th birthday. If such an event can be perfect it was.  Yet the full circumstances is another complete blog post.  This photo is the columbarium on Memorial Day, the second time that week I went to the cemetery.  Jerry's niche is the bottom row,   the third from the  right.  Since May 7, more vets have joined him and there were only 3 more niches left until  that entire section will be filled.  There is no choosing the site for the niche nor for the gravesite if that option is elected.  It is assigned,  an orderly system.   Someday when I am done with this earthly existence I will join him in the same niche and then they will get anew carved marble cover with my name added.  Memorial Day was very emotional for me, just about the time I thought I had been doing so well in this grief journey that I am taking alone, the crash came and the tears would not stay inside me.  I have learned that t is best to let them flow, a release.  

I went to the Preston Veterans Cemetery on Memorial Day to visit Jerry's niche. It was very busy and a very emotional time for me.   I was grateful for the local woman who saw me and came to ask if I was "ok?" I told her "I'm as OK as I ever will be, thank you." S he spent a bit of time with me and walked over to the niche where she had first spotted me sitting on the cement in front of it. I appreciated her kindness.  These days the comfort comes from strangers mostly.  

 Not one person called me that day let alone thought of going with me. Later that evening Jerry's son called the first time since the service, what we used to call his self obligatory calls.  Although he and DIL and grandson come for the service, they did not stay, flew in and back home,    were no help, no comfort. I can write them off now too. Truly I never expected much support from him but now I know for sure there will be none. He is into himself. Anything I  mention he diverts to his own goings on.  I tried to tell him about the military service and he did not listen.  He has no frame of reference never having served and knows little about his father's life.   So I have nothing to say. I will post more later about the service and how that day was a blur to me although I functioned well and no one noticed.  I got through it. What choice do I have. And that is my reality, I have no choice but to go on. 

 And that is my reality, I have no choice but to go on.  “It’s kind of a dorky statement, but it is true that grief rearranges your address book. It’s amazing how many people drop out of your life in the wake of catastrophic loss. People who have been with you through thick and thin suddenly disappear, or turn dismissive, shaming, strange. Random strangers become your biggest, deepest source of comfort, if even only for a few moments.”  ― Megan Devine   

 Finding this to be true, people I thought were friends no longer know me.  They are going on about their lives. One particular friend now acts very bored the last few times I have tried to talk with her.  When I call her on the phone, she yawns or has to hang up to go  talk with her husband who has come home for lunch. My God, if's not like she doesn't see him every day all the time! I am feeling she cannot be bothered, so I will not try again, 3 strikes and out. I sometimes feel bitter and think, "just you wait...your turn will come..." but I quickly give that feeling up, it does nothing for me. I am living my new reality and my entire life has changed to something nearly unrecognizable.  

Our parish is hosting a new grief support group with another church facilitated by a nurse and a counselor.  It is to be a small group of 12 and meet weekly at the other church.  After learning it is not just for widows, and looking at the book they will use, I pass.  I can see no benefit to me from going into such a setting with mixed grievers. The book is so very elementary it would be like learning the alphabet again.  If is were just widows, I might consider, but this, nope.  The Mayo social worker or known as grief outreach worker called me and offered a widow group but they meet on zoom.  Nope to that too.  I am sick of zoom gatherings.  If it cannot be in real face to face time, nope.  I talked with her a short time and found myself annoyed at this young eager person who has not experienced this loss, yes she has lost a parent.  That is the natural order of life but not relevant to losing my best friend, my 53 year partner. I told her bluntly I have become somewhat of an expert on grief, not by choice.  But losing my only child, our son 12+ years ago and now Jerry,  I am using all the skills I have. Over years,  I have lost all 3 of my closest friends and of course all my elderly relatives.  

My life is not  going to ever be the same, no more coach trip, no more someone to take care of the house, no more hugs, just more and more of no more.  And unless I can be with a group with similar losses I am not interested.  I am not mentally ill and do not need a counselor.  I just would like company.  Sometimes just someone to eat with.  

Lately I am experiencing more down feelings, in waves, previously these had been infrequent, episodic.  So alone yet the reality is I am alone and will be. Some days the only contact I have with other people is a phone call, online--thru FB, or if I go to the store. I have often heard that people desert you in grief and I never concerned myself with it. Hah,  it wouldn't happen to me, not as active as I am.  I thought  the workout friends would endure, they did not.  I did my best with my mother in law who was a widow, not an easy person to be with but who depended on us. I used to talk with her, ask her things, have her here for meals so she would not be alone. My late aunt in PA was another widow, runs in my family, and I called her every week as well as traveling to PA to visit her.  Here, nobody to do that for me.  I think if I dropped dead in this house who would know and how long would I be here. 

I get most support, understanding and wisdom from the FB group, Grief Speaks Out.  Many of the quotes I shared here come from that site where people from all over share their grief experiences.  

It has been very hot unseasonably for us, for June, extreme 90's and 100 degrees, no rain, hot.  So I try to get my outside chores done by noon and even then I am drenched in sweat, and make periodic trips inside to drink water and cool off.  Miserable.  So not getting my daily walks this week.  I had been doing that early morning but that time I need for outdoor weeding, watering, etc, so my walks are off schedule for now.  After dinner time or later  afternoons, it is not at all possible.  The heat is strong.  This is as bad as winter when it is subzero and I stay inside.  Even the weather is not cooperative. 

Well here I am again,  just me and my shadow.....