The Widows Club

 Kicking and screaming all the way, I've joined the Widows Club. I can't tell you how many new members I've met in the last year. Perhaps I've just been unobservant, but it seems there are a lot more of us this year. Very few of us lost our spouses to Covid--at least the ones I know--so that leaves me to ponder where are all the ones who lost their spouse to that? Even without the horror of the virus, I feel like there are a greater number of us this year. Perhaps, like many things, we just notice it more when I personally affects us.

Some of the things I've noticed since the hunk died... It's hard being totally responsible for myself. I was quite spoiled since he took care of so many things. He managed the kitchen, did the shopping, paid the bills, made the bed, carried out the trash... I never asked him to do those things, but he knew how hard they were for me and just carried on. I've devised a schedule--yes, me, the free spirit--so my life is more organized. First thing in the morning, I dress, comb my hair, make the bed, and open the blinds. That signals my brain that I'm ready to face the day. Of course, that might all take over 30 minutes to accomplish, but that's the beginning. Then, it's on to meds, glucose test, coffee and breakfast. Another hour taken up. If I didn't clean the kitchen the night before, I find I can't face the coffee until I do so. I have a lot less patience with myself now.

Reading, watching television, all the other things I used to enjoy, aren't quite the same until my 'stuff' is all done. I've never, ever been a housekeeper, but now I'm finding myself turning into a picky old woman who needs things 'just so'. Weird. That was never me before. 

Thinking things through is my default. Define the problem/parameters. Research the options. Decide on a solution. Research can be a deep well you tumble down so you never reach a solution. I'm more indecisive and less likely to leap into something. The thing about having a partner is there is always someone to bounce your ideas off, even if they don't agree. My cousin told me this would happen. While personal freedom of choice is a heady thing, having that backup when you're uncertain is priceless. I've never in my life been on my own and having to make all my own decisions is daunting.

I try very hard to have a plan of action everyday...a to-do list. I might not accomplish everything on the list, but it prevents me from wandering around the apartment aimlessly, trying to settle on something to do. Even if it's just folding clothes--something I really hate to do--it's one more thing accomplished. Moving around, activity rather than sitting, is one of my new goals. I still tire easily and move slowly, but that's life. 

It feels weird to go out to the car and go places by myself. Yesterday, I went to get my hair trimmed--just enough to take off the dead ends--and I had plans to do other stuff since I was out, but suddenly I found I just wanted to go back to the security of home. Out there was too noisy, too crowded, too...just too much. In the past, I might have felt guilty about that, but in the last few weeks, I've learned to cut myself some slack. It's okay to decide when I've had enough. 

The other thing I'm facing is the ability to have a life. He's gone. I'm not. And life must continue. Plans must be made. And I'm the only one left to make the hard decisions. They don't all have to be done instantly, but eventually, my life will go on. That, more than anything, is one of the things the 'surviving spouse' faces. A vague type of guilt because you're still around, compounded with the decisions you make that your spouse is not around to add his input. He would have laughed at me. I know this. He was the most pragmatic person I ever met. I can hear him now, saying 'do what you want to do!' Every month (for years!) he would bring his statement from his IRA into my office and toss it on my desk and say, "There. That's what I'm worth this month. Make sure you enjoy every penny."

I will try. I will try.