Saturday, November 1, 2014

Cornbread and Buttermilk

I've been staying busy, a good busy.
I feel abundantly blessed with a job that fills my desire to help others and give back.
I meet the most interesting and precious people. I meet some cantankerous ones too but they are few and far between.

I feel like I'm doing well. I'm sleeping quite well and I no longer need my antidepressant or anxiety meds.
I am glad they were available to help me cross that deep part of the river of tears.

I'm finding joy, I laugh, hard sometimes. I cherish whatever time I get with those I love. I make plans, not far off but still make them. I look forward to things. I'm learning to navigate this new life void of my husband. It isn't always easy but it's getting easier and I'm doing it.

I've had a few observations about me.

  1. I'm looking at men. Hold on now, it's not what you think! I realized, I'm looking for my husband. Anything that reminds me of him, walk, talk, clothing, hair. Odd as it sounds.
  2. The change in the weather makes some days more difficult. Rain, cold I find myself missing my husband more.
  3. Once our children grew up, married and their family extended I decided I wouldn't put a lot of undue stress on them by insisting we have family Thanksgiving Dinner. In fact, any time I get to spend with my family is considered Thanksgiving to me yet I find myself anxious about the upcoming Holiday. I guess, even though we never did much, at least Hubby and I were together. I am looking into perhaps serving at a local church dinner or nursing home.
  4. I was sharing the fact with someone that, my husband had died. Later in the conversation that person referred to me as widow. My brain exploded and it screamed “You shut your mouth!” but outwardly, I only nodded in agreement


And, I still have those caught off guard moments.
Today I talked with the sweetest older couple.
The gentleman was telling about dating his wife -then girlfriend -61 years ago. They had a difference in height so he would stand a step or 2 below her to give her a kiss goodnight after returning her to her front porch and her waiting father.
The lady beamed and added, “that was before we had air conditioner”
The gentleman continued by saying that her father was waiting at the window and if an attempt to have more than one kiss was made, the father would have a coughing fit. We all laughed really hard.
It was obvious they were still deeply in love.
She said they had been blessed with a wonderful marriage, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren as well as good health. I loved hearing their story. He chirped in and said, “You know what keeps me healthy? Cornbread and buttermilk”
That's when I felt it, tears were welling and there was no stopping it. I had to excuse myself and go to another room for a little while to compose myself.
You see, my husband loved cornbread and buttermilk.
It's always the little things.

2 comments:

  1. Dear Kathy, I enjoy reading your blog so much. It is good to read some positive news from someone who has been through such a life changing experience. I, too, have struggled with making a new life after loosing my husband to LBD last Nov. I need to hear about the fact that we will be alright instead of a steady stream of negative feedback. It will be difficult but I will survive. Thanks for your comments.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much for your comment! The whole purpose of this was to move forward to the best of my ability and encourage someone along the way. You have touched my heart!
      I too see and hear so much negative and I know we all grieve differently and at different paces. And, we are all entitled to the "moments" when we just want the world to stop and let us off, but, every single day for years and years? Is that what is means to grieve yourself to death? I shudder at that thought.
      I actually met a woman and have seen her a couple of times within a few weeks of each encounter. She was distraught and weary both times. He husband had passed away and I I was sharing my experience with her, assuring her I understood a little of how she felt and trying to encourage her. I had forgotten how long she told me her husband was gone so the next time I saw her, I asked. As distressed as she was both times I really thought it was recent. Her answer was 8 years. I can't imagine feeling like that for 8 years. And perhaps I feel a little guilty because I don't feel that distressed even after 8 months.
      Thank you for following my journey. You are correct, it will be difficult, but we will survive, and be better people for it :)

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