This picture was on October 20, 2017, our 50th anniversary at Sullivans in Trempeleau for dinner. That was a couple months over 7 years ago and my eyes had that sparkle. I was always a joyful person. I was "bubbly" my aunt said, always happy. I used to giggle at nothing. I laughed easily.
Today I know I live in a new reality as a widow. My life is "good", I am financially secure, hve a beautiful home, a couple very dependable local friends whom I can call on any time for anything, and am active in my church, my faith is solid. I haveoutstanding medical care thru Mayo, our PCP is a friend as well as a doctor. My local attorney,the same. And my financial advisor has been trustworthy all along, have known him since we moved here. Lots to be thankful for, Multitudes of blessings.
Yet my eyes no longer have that sparkle, After Jerry passed in Decemer 2020, my spark went out. I didn't realize it at the time although I knew I was in a different solo flight part of life now. I handled everything that needed to be done and everyone complimented me on how well I was doing. I often said in reply to those comments, "I had no other choice." And that was the truth. No one but me to handle me and everything. I convinced Jerry in his final weeks that I would be ok. I was relieved to hear he believed me when one day he said, "you are going to be just fine, you are strong, you are secure, you will make it." I had assurred him so he could let go peacefully because I knew he was worried as hell about me. So many people told me these past fewyears that he asked them to "watch over Pat for me," Some did, like champs. Others have vanished like ghost wisps. That happens, people go on with their own lives in their own worlds. Many widows experience that.
I grew up with widows around and no one ignored them, relatives, friends. Life and people were different. In my early grief I could hear my mother's words to me about disappointments that I considered tragic especially in my teen years, "you are not the only one in the world that happens to. You're not the first, you won't be the last. Get over it. Don't pout." When she became a widow she said almost the same to me, "I'm not the only widow in the worldd, I'm not the first, I won't be the last." She well knew from her own life because she was a very young 20 year old widow pregnant with me when my father's plane disappeared in June 1944, WWII, months before my birth.So why lately has it begun to bother me that my eyes no longer have their sparkle? I find times of enjoyment, But I'm just not the same. I know I'm different. I think I'm fine just wistful. This photo was taken August 2023 on a nasty hat day for our church directory. About the last thing I wanted to do that day was have my picture taken. My SIL was here from CO with her partner and their 2 dogs. But I got ready and went. I kept my jean shorts on because I knew it would only be a head shot. Later I realized I had worn the very same top as in 2017 when we had photos taken fr the last dieectory. One of those of Jerry and me is to the side. I orderd many because it was our 50th anniversary year. This time I had no need and just got a few wallet sized to send to friends arund the country in Christmas cards. People I do not see and who are not on Facebook with me. But people with whom I've kept in touch over years. Rhe number of those has decreased as many have passed on. Yet I am here, I am a survivor. Without the sparkle in the eyes, but making it.