New year… new resolutions!

I have not re-read my post from 2023 to see what I have achieved or accomplished. But, I do know of maybe two things that I maybe can check off the list. And if I can check them off, they were very important to me. And, if it wasn’t on the resolution list, it must have been still pretty important… for me to make strides, as a widow, and get on with life.

Yes! I ate a lunch alone, at a table, not a booth, by myself and I was surrounded by other tables filled with guests.

I attended a concert by myself in Philadelphia, to see Ed Sheeran, who was next on our list of people we must see.

My friend, Kathy, after I told her that I went alone, said that I should have asked her to go, she would have gone. But I don’t think she really realized what or why I needed to do this by myself. I know she thinks she would be supportive so I’m not alone, but I wasn’t. It was another thing that Steve and I wanted to do, so I chose to do it with “him”. I knew he was there because he gave me the best ever Uber driver who was so patient and kind and considerate.

Back to my 2024 resolutions…

I’m hooked on all the ads on social media for yoga exercises, chair yoga especially. So, I hope to set aside weekly time for that.

I need to lower my cholesterol by 12 units/measures, so I will be eating 1 fruit a day, and try to tell my brain, that at dinner, I don’t need a beef, veggie or starch. Good lord! How did I ever survive with food fried in lard!?

So, resolutions are:

Lower cholesterol

Chair yoga… or stretching and flexing every day to get me flexible

If it’s important at the start of 2024, then it’s going to happen in 2024 … sometime… but… it’s going to happen.

I have an iPhone, so every week, I get a cloud on my phone that tells me my screen time was up to 3.5 hours per day or down to 2.9 hours per day, or what have you.

I have to tell you, I obsess over those little red checks, those notifications. I don’t know why. Maybe because I feel so isolated all the time from the world, I think I’m missing something really important. And, as luck would have it, I’m not!

And that’s ok.ay I realize that if it was important, I’d get a call, a text or a message would be left on my phone. So, in a way, it’s a great thing. Everyone I know is fine, nothing bad or catastrophic is happening to any of my loved ones. Everyone is just chilling in their daily lives.

Sadly, I never get those messages from Steve anymore. The one that’s says he’s stopping at the store and he thought he’d make something special for dinner tonight. He loved to cook, and when he was working, his schedule was better for it than mine. He was home every day by 3 pm. He had time to nap if he wanted, or get a small task done, and then cook. My life was great then. It’s good now, or okay now, but it’s not the same.

I no longer wait for his messages or pictures from work to show me what he did. In fact, the only ones I get now are pictures of fur babies. And that makes me smile.

I’ve come to use those little checks and notifications to fill up my day. Some days, that’s my only connection to the outside world. I’m tired of seeing movie stars in their bikinis at the age of 53, I’m tired of their wedding drama, but that’s what they do!

I try to check my phone only 3-4 times a day, but that doesn’t work. The red checks and emails just pile up as mostly useless nonsense and I hit delete delete delete. I’m not even sure if I read the headlines.

I’m looking for the one that says “ you’ve hit the lottery!” But, in a way, I already did. I had a great life with Steve and my kids… and my life is still good, not great, but okay. That’s what I have . That’s how I’d rate my life now. Could it be better, no one knows but God. But it sure has been great so far, and for that, I’m thankful. I keep on pushing forward to get to a happy and fulfilling place. I’ve learned to enjoy more of the little, silly things now. I’m appreciative of the time I get to spend with my children and their fur-babies. And, it seems that while my biggest struggle is still ongoing, I’m learning to cope. While, some of my friends are having struggles of their own, I feel that I can be a good sounding board for them, even though they don’t understand my plight.

So, red check or not, they’ll still bother me, I’ll continue to check them, in hopes that one will be spectacular news!

Keep on checking!

I’ve cut and layered my hair. First time ever in about 30 years. I was never one to pay $80 for a haircut and dye, Steve liked it long and, quite frankly, it wasn’t extremely long for what society thinks is too long for someone of my age.

I never really cared about what anyone thought.

If you want to dye your hair purple, do it! By all means do it!

But, I changed my hair.

I layered it.

I was looking for a change.

I’m looking for a change to make me happy.

I’m rearranging furniture to try and make me happy.

I’m just trying to find a way to make up for my loss, that will somehow make me happy.

Random thought… don’t question anyone who you know who has lost their other half, when you see them making changes. They’re not, hopefully, going off the deep end, but are searching for happiness.

They are still alive and have to relearn how to live without that someone.

And if cutting or changing my hair style, is a sign of my attempt to try to be happy again… so be it!

Just do what you need to do to try and make you happy again, it may take a while, and some might judge, but they don’t wear your shoes!

When do we actually decide it’s time?

Time to pack up all of our lost loved ones’ belongings into a box. And then what?

What do you do with them?

Donate to an organization that a stranger will use or buy for pennies on the dollar? They mean so much more than that to me!

I still have all of Steve’s clothing and personal items. I’m not sure, even after two and a half years, what I intend to do with them.

I’ve found that his boxers and t-shirts are comfortable to sleep in and wearing them keeps him still close to me.

He has lots of thermal/button downs that I think I’ll hold onto… after all, I still try to heat the house with wood rather than pay the price for oil.

I know he’s never coming back to wear his jeans or shoes, so they’re boxed up… just waiting for me to make the next move.

When… I don’t know when… and that word alone doesn’t have a time frame, which is good… because… I don’t know when… when… whenever.

We all have them. 

While we have daily routines and goals of accomplishments, for instance, I need to pay bills today, cook this on Sunday, clean this on Tuesday, do laundry on this day… let’s just face it… there are many times we are not on our projected schedule.

I find, not just since Steve has passed away, but also since I’m in semi retirement, while I have my “projected” agenda, I’m very easily distracted. I don’t know if it’s because if I don’t get to it , my mentality is that I can do it tomorrow. 

I seem focused and still goal oriented.  But, I can easily get distracted, and that steers me onto a tangent. It’s not something that I was looking to do… wasn’t even on a list of any kind, but, I’m just doing it as opposed to what I really should be doing or what needs to be done. 

Reality vs. diversion 

Here’s my example:

I could go to my desk to pay my bills, then, I see my address book.. knowing some friends have moved, I decide to update on a whim… remind you , I was to pay some bills! Didn’t pay any bills this time. 

I decide to put all my summer fans in the attic… next thing you know, the fans are still in the spare bedroom and I’m reorganizing the attic! 

Sometimes I’m very goal oriented and I have productive days… but other days… not so much! 

I get upset when I have to decide, do I clean the bathroom or try that new recipe which sounds delicious vs a clean shower! 

Am I using these little diversions as not wanting to face what really needs to be done … I get it done, eventually, in time… 

Are they my time wasters … 

Yes… while I still get something accomplished, it wasn’t on my list, I avoided what I disliked to to more than this, but I got something done… I didn’t waste time… 

But I used my time wasters until I was ready! 

I’m pretty much still an emotional mess.

Years ago, throughout my career in management, I was told, I always carried myself with confidence and a smile on my face. I could sit at a table at a conference, and people would come to me. I wasn’t overly overt, more quiet and reserved, but yes, maybe they felt I was lonely, so they came to my table, sat with me and we chatted. But , honestly, those corporate gigs weren’t my thing. I would have rather been home and still hoped to be that next level of management. 

I’m still putting on my big girl britches, trying my hardest to do everything I need to do around the house, including Steve’s jobs. I try not to be needy, and  maybe because I still exude that confidence that I’ve had from years ago, that attitude that I’ve got this or I can do this, …..

I just would absolutely love and cry if someone helped me out unexpectedly! 

I had a tree go down before I left two weeks ago due to a storm. Told a few neighbors, who have been close friends of ours for years, here’s what I have to look forward to when I come back! 

The dead tree is still there… there is no tree fairy… no kind soul who feels like they should help me out. I’m not looking for pity … but I’m 63…. I’m looking for help without always shelling out big bucks for 30 minutes of work!

But … then… again… I take the high road … I’m not their concern… they don’t owe me anything… and I know their lives are busy…

Deep down inside… I know I still got this… it would just be nice… deep down inside… ☮️❤️

Being a widow or widower means being able to have a good poker face.

I don’t play poker, but I know what it implies.

No matter what, you have to put on your best face and try to enjoy or have a good time, even if you aren’t actually feeling that way. You may laugh, chuckle, seem to enjoy the moment, but that’s because you have to and there are not many other options.

You can’t be that depressed person in the room, looking solemn and sad. I’ve found that I can reserve that time for myself at night. Right before I go to sleep… funny word… sleep… not sure how I manage that some nights.

I went to dinner with a friend the other night. We chatted a lot. We asked each other the usual questions. How are the kids? What are they up to? How is your husband? We talked about pets, vacations, food, but not once was I asked how I was doing. I asked her how she was, but it wasn’t reciprocated. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Maybe my poker face made it seem that I was okay and that everything was hunky dorey. I don’t know. Maybe she was afraid of the elephant in the room and afraid to ask. What if I really dumped and unloaded all my stress, anguish and loss on her, then what? How would she feel? Would she feel burdened by my unleashing of anger and my lack of “ I don’t really care “ about some things because they seem so minute and insignificant to me than the loss of Steve?

I.Don’t.Know.

So I don’t say. I don’t want the conversation to be about me all the time. But a nice little “How are you doing?” and meaning it would be nice from someone every now and then. It would not only make me feel like someone was concerned and interested but they could be providing me with a shoulder to lean on.

Life is great, when you have that special person, beside you, to lean on, talk to, share things with.

But then, when they’re gone, it’s time to play poker… so… I put on my poker face… every morning and every day … I now play poker ♥️ ♦️ ♣️ ♠️.

Sometimes I’m so proud of myself . What I can accomplish, things that I can figure out, just through reasoning. My mind is still sharp. My health is still good. At this point, right now, I have no physical limitations.

But, I do realize, some day I will.

So, I try so hard, to do everything on my own, without hiring a contractor or a landscaper, to complete most of what needs to be done. But I do count on others for advice or knowledge.

I will always defer to an exterminator to take care of my yellow jackets nests, and if I need a tree cut down, yeah, I’m not using Steve’s chainsaw, just to prove I can! Had I grown up in a lumberjack household, that would be another story.

But…

I grew up in a family of seven children. The first 4 of us were female and then the male came, and then a female and the last was a male.

So, us girls, we were the handy ones working with my dad, under the cars, handing him the tools or what he needed. We were his assistants. I never questioned or thought this was male work, I was just helping out my dad and that made me happy and feel like I was contributing and glad to assist. We would hop on the yard tractor to cut grass or push the mower to go around the flowers beds. I wasn’t a greasemonkey, to borrow a phrase from the 60’s, but I knew enough to help out.

My nickname growing up was “Butch”. Butch Damboo, to be exact, because apparently , I also couldn’t say my last name. So, was that where all my independence started? I don’t know either because I’m also a Taurus, if you follow the stars. I’m sure I’m a very hard person to love.

I just find it frustrating now, to re-gain my independence. After all, I’m no one’s responsibility.

It’s been just over 2 and a half years since Steve has passed. I’m trying my best to do everything, myself, but I will always need advice. After all, the mechanics of the yard tools has changed… winterizing, what needs stabilizers, battery tenders on this , I will always keep notes as I do with my gardening. I can manage all the things I’ve always done… house chores, decorating, cooking, but now… I’m doing the things Steve would do… grass cutting, pressure washing, weed whacking, outdoor painting and staining, tree trimming, mulching, spraying, and each of our lists of duties could go on.

My next challenge is pressure washing… never ever had I ever!

And I’m sure there are still many… never have I ever…

I’m about to pressure wash!

But… bring it on! ☮️❤️

I went back to our favorite winery in North Carolina recently. We are members of the wine club there, dating back to the inception of the winery. It was our “go to” place to get away every year, often multiple times a year.

I tried a new experience this time around. It was a dinner where we had wine paired with a special menu, and it was phenomenal! But I looked around, and saw couples… girlfriends celebrating… and friends just hanging and having a great time. 

There I was, just me, at a round table, no one to chat with, no one to compare the flavors of the meal and how that enhanced the aroma and the taste of the wine. I did still learn more about wine, as I’ve come to find out, that each host presents their own knowledge of wine, wine making and the attributes of wine. So, to have a new host experience is divine. After all, reality is, it’s a job for them and it makes their job easier to repeat the knowledge they have. It’s their “program,” so to speak. 

So, again, I can cross that off of my new year resolutions, I ate alone on this experience and I had lunch alone on the previous day. I think my resolutions for 2023 are complete!

But, even though I put myself out there, it doesn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t enjoy any specific moment of it. I was still lonely. Funny thing is, I eat alone every day at home, with no one to talk to, and I’m okay. But maybe, just maybe right now, since dining out in public by myself makes me more conscious of the fact that I am alone, makes it harder. You often don’t see someone dining out alone. 

But… on a positive note… I was chatting wine the winemaker, Mark. He was Steve’s bestie whenever we visited the winery. Steve would get up early, on our vacation getaway, just to talk to Mark about bottling, because that’s what Steve did, and learn more about bottling wine. Steve would bottle wine on his vacation, it was in his blood! He loved to learn more about bottling and any aspects of the industry… and the fact that it had to do with wine made it even better.

Mark is very well known in the industry. He’s well respected and is connected to other winemakers throughout the world. While I was talking to Mark, I found it very touching, that Steve must have given Mark his phone number to call him for whatever reason. 

Mark told me, “I have Steve’s number on my bulletin board and I’ll never take it down.” 

That meant so much to me. I can’t express the love I felt. In that moment, I just passed it off as a compliment and comment. But, upon further reflection, Mark didn’t have to tell me that, so, it must be true and that was his way of telling me that he misses Steve also, in his own way. Maybe when I see Mark in December, after I’ve had time to process it, I can tell him, hopefully without crying, that would make Steve happy to know that. And I’m sure Steve does know that! 

It’s great to know that even when Steve’s gone…. By some… he’s not forgotten… as life goes on…  

But Steve will never be forgotten.

There are different tiers in life – almost everything, has a hierarchy. 

There’s the president of a company, the VP, assistants to them and then there’s the trickle down workforce… us… the worker bees. 

I remember my great grandmother, aka Bushie, who passed at the ripe old age of 95. She was at the top of our tier, as a family. When she passed, she was survived by four of her remaining children, my grandmother being one of them. At the time of my Bushie’s death, my grandmother, Nana, was 76. We would celebrate Bushie’s birthday every year, she was the reigning matriarch, as if it could be her last birthday. And then another year would pass, we would celebrate again and again and again… until it happened. I was 36 when she passed. 

Bushie’s husband had died in 1958 of kidney cancer, as the family tells me. She had spent the remaining 33 years of her life living with my Nana, yet I wonder how alone she must have felt – she never dated nor remarried. 

Children, neighbors, friends, family – it’s wonderful to have these people in our lives, but they just don’t equal the bond between a husband and a wife. I suspect this was the case for my Bushie. 

When Bushie died, that left my Nana, the oldest survivor in the family tree. Her husband, my grandfather, had passed by then. My Nana never dated or remarried, either, and she passed in 1996, at the age of 81. As we were going through her belongings, I came across a ticker tape from my Bushie’s last trip to the hospital from her heart monitor. I kept it because on the back of it, my Nana had written “My dearest mother’s last heartbeat.”

This has stuck with me over the years, that even though my Bushie lived an extremely long time, and my grandmother was in her 70’s when she died, it was still not easy for her. They were lucky to have each other. Maybe that’s what kept them living all those years.

Death of a close loved one is never easy, no matter the length of life. 

Those deaths left my mom at the top of our family tree. She was the oldest of all the relatives. My father passed before my mother. My mom never wavered in her strength or her loss. She lived almost another 20 years after my dad passed. I wish I could have understood her loss now that I know what I know. We, her kids, had our kids and family and although we all felt the loss of our dad, we were busy, living life. I don’t recall that if I ever once asked her how she was doing. She always seemed fine. But now, I realize that’s the mask we have to put on . I put it on every day. You have to, in order to keep going… until ….

Mom passed in 2019. 

Now, I’m at the top of the chain. If death goes according to age, I’m next in line. 

I lost Steve in 2021. All of my kids , even though they’re here for me, they live their lives, and as they should. But …

Now, it’s just me…. Lonely at the top.