TRYING TO CLIMB TO THE TOP

I can't believe I have been unemployed for ten weeks now. I have rested some. In fact this morning I went back to bed after I got the kids off. It was a busy weekend and I just felt the need for a tad bit extra rest. Of course I laid there thinking of what else I have to accomplish. I have cleaned out the basement (just need to paint the walls), cleaned out the attic, the closets, my bedroom that collects all.... but there is some painting and a garage and lawn that are still calling my name (of course it will have to stop snowing and raining for me to get out in the lawn).

It feels really good. Physically it changes the way I feel, having taken the time to get my life in order. I am not there yet, but I am surprised at the physical change it has brought on me. It gives me more energy and life. I feel less trodden down. I want to catch up my personal journal on the events of the past year or so, I need to reach out to a couple friends I have not seen, I need to make it to the temple this month, and I want to start working on some family heritage activities (namely trying to see if I have any pictures of the children from the past ten years that I should organize).

Oh... and I need to find a job. :) I think Hollywood is calling... gotta run.

ATTENTION LADIES

As the title indicates, this post is for the ladies only. So, if you are of the male variety... move on. I guarantee you DO NOT want to hear what I have to write here. But, I find the message very important... so I am drawn to writing this. For those of the male variety out there who are curious what exactly the message is, let me just start with that, then you can turn away... and not read any further. Lesson: Take a day to take care of you... you will thank yourself.

Enjoying my extra time to take care of life, my girlfriend and I left after putting my kids on the bus and made the two hour drive to attend the temple this morning. We made a day of it and stopped half-way home for lunch and some shopping. My girlfriend indicated that while we were shopping she needed to stop at a certain specialty shop to look for certain undergarments. I thought that would be fine and knew where this particular store (let's just call it VS, for somewhat obvious reasons) was located in the mall. So, after lunch we headed over there and I commented to her, that perhaps I should have them measure me while we are there, as I was somewhat suspicious that I was not wearing the correct size of undergarment (let's just refer to this as a 'b' for simplification). With the weight that I had gained I had picked up some new b's over the years - in a larger size than I had once worn - and for years assumed it was correct. For some reason in the last week-and-a-half when I have not been in such a rush dressing in the morning, I began to wonder if I was perhaps wrong??

We made our way to VS and my girlfriend inquired on the location of specific b's and then we headed for the dressing room. Once there I asked the associate working if she would mind measuring me... just for my curious sake. I was right... I had been wearing a size too small for all these years. I hopped in a dressing room and was pleased with the results of the larger sized undergarment. I looked fabulous. I tried on a different style... I still looked fabulous. Who knew such a simple thing could make such a difference. I debated. If I loose weight I won't need the larger size. But, in the meantime I could look fabulous.... I decided to hit the clearance rack and look fabulous without spending a fortune.

I have to say, I do look fantastic. I keep checking myself out in the mirror. I can't believe I have gone all these years not looking as great as I could have! In fact I may not need to lose as much weight as I thought I did... I somehow look slimmer with things all in line. So, ladies... do yourself a favor... get measured and get fabulous.

MY BOOK OF EXCUSES FOR NOT BEING A BETTER BLOGGER

I don't typically use this site to truly log in like a diary... but I have not exactly been keeping up on my journal either.

I committed to myself that all that was captured here would be the embers.. and all ashes would be left behind. I hope today's entry does not stray from that commitment too much.

Let me just take a moment to say... I hope to get back to blogging soon. My goal was one year. I did well... for quite a while... but I have been bad about it lately. Perhaps I need to update my goal to be 365 posts.

I don't mean to make excuses for my lack of writing... but I know my fellow widows will understand that sometimes life just hits you from all directions. I wish I could offer some consoling words that eventually it stops. I will say I am better equipped, emotionally and otherwise, to handle the storms... but the storms continue to rage.

In the last six months my oldest moved back home after a hiatus of living with his uncle and their family. He has on multiple occasions tested the boundaries, I am certain as a way of questioning if he will be 'sent away' again. He continually comments that life was better there. I know he loved his time there - but I think the comments are just a way for him to test and see if I am going to send him back. He is looking for reaction. His grades are not good. I made the decision to hire a tutor to come in every day. Financially it put a pinch on things - but the stress it has removed from me is huge. He has been vocal about his feelings / or lack of feelings regarding the existence of God. I treaded lightly on those waters, as for any who read here regularly know that my faith in God is unwavering. I credit Him for getting me here today. sane (or at least pretty close to it). I have felt his watchful eye and caring hand for me and my family. There is a part of me that would react with anger at the mere mention that God does not exist. For - how could my son be so ungrateful. We have so much. God has truly compensated in our lives for the loss of my husband. I bit my tongue... spent many hours on multiple occasions listening and did a lot of praying to know when to stop biting my tongue (it was starting to hurt) and when to open my mouth and what to say when I did. Currently we are taking a hiatus from his life of "atheism". He commented to me the other day that things are better at home. We are all getting along better. I could tell you the moment it changed. And perhaps I will someday. For now, I will just say that my Father in Heaven truly loves me. He is there for me and answers my prayers in time. I was given the strength to endure and the words to say when needed. I don't believe that battle is over - but it has quited for now. His behavior in church was such that he was "eliminated" from his Sunday School class. I feel badly for the poor Bishopric member who showed up at my house and had to witness my tears and pleading that SOMEONE would help me in my efforts of single parenting. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is perfect in its organization. As 'men' we are not always perfect in carrying it out. I 'should' have resources available to me... a home teacher.. a Young Men's president, something. I felt alone. I am tired of trying to do it alone. This poor man had to sit and endure my tears and pleadings for help. After he left I got a hold of myself and stopped feeling sorry for myself and realized that my oldest may not have 'local' support like I wish he did - but because of my calling at church he has the attention and interest of the Stake YM President and his councilors.. they seek him out.. they call him at home. They challenge him to complete things and to stretch himself. They have a relationship with him. We are not without anyone... God fills in where needed.

My calling at church has taken some time for me to begin to settle in to. I still feel very inadequate and out of my element... but I am starting to 'settle' and 'catch up' on all that needs to be done.

I have been given a date for my last day at work. Up and down... up and down...they have finally eliminated my position. This is not a surprise. I saw it coming for a long time. They have taken care of me on my departure... another blessing from above. I suppose I should be concerned... single mother and all... but even my kids are looking forward to it. My friend's eight-year old son asked me what I was going to do. I told him I am going to just be a mom for awhile. I miss that.

All this and more has encompassed the last few months of my life. The addition to it all is I am dating someone who is wonderful. Finding the time to dedicate to fostering that relationship is near impossible.. but as with everything in single parenthood it becomes a game of prioritization. Less gets done around the house in exchange for time with someone great. But - alas I am and always have been a bit of a 'freak show'. So, while the entrance of this person is wonderful... there are a slew of emotions to cope with along the way. Perhaps I will touch more on that another day.... I could say a lot about that.

My good girlfriend is undergoing chemo for breast cancer. She just started a week or two ago. My husband's cousin was just diagnosed with breast cancer. My friend from work is working on recovering from non-hodgkin's lymphoma, and a friend from my b.w. life (that is Before Widowhood) is battling cancer with her young son. I am looking forward to some time of not working.. perhaps will give me a chance to give back to everyone that has given to me.

I'd say enough whining!! On to blogging!!! But - really I hope you read this with the right tone. I am not whining. I still testify that my Father in Heaven loves and cares for me. He knows me. And He must see potential for more growth in me... cause the storms still rage. I am glad He has confidence in me! :)

DINNER ANYONE? TODAY? TOMORROW?

Sometimes it just hits me. I go and go and go and feel like I am a human energizer bunny sometimes. Well, I suppose I don't really feel that way - but I act that way. Usually because, what choice do I have? There is much to do! But after going and going and going... sometimes out of nowhere, my body betrays me... and will go no more.

That happened to me yesterday. I hate the betrayal. My body should know I would give it rest if I could! I was enveloped in exhaustion and it spilled over to this morning. I was up and getting ready for work this morning looking at the house that was a wreck. It made me feel more exhausted. I headed out for work, promising myself that I would take lunch at the house and clean today.

I got about a mile down the road, when my friend KR called. She was confirming she would be able to get in the house - she was on her way to clean it. She had also made me dinner and would be leaving that in the fridge.

I was overcome with emotion. My whole body felt exhausted. I started to cry. Tears of gratitude mixed with tears of frustration that I wasn't keeping up.

I came home from work to a clean house. I heated some dinner up for myself and the kids, then went about the chores and running of the evening.

Words can not express the gratitude I felt. The blessing it was to me today.

I was then surprised by another visitor later in the evening. A friend that lives an hour away was the least likely person I would expect to show up with dinner for tomorrow. SG is a kind and generous person - but doesn't exactly live in my neighborhood.

As I lay in bed this evening, reflecting on the day... I see the hand of God in my life today. I see the angels He sent on an errand for me. And I am amazed, again, at how He loves and cares for me.

Lesson Manual: How to be a Widow
10. Angels don't show up at your door step everyday. They don't always come and clean your house and make you dinner, but take the time to see they are there. Sometimes they are a phone call at just the right time, or a smile at the grocery store... and sometimes we need to remember that we too need to be angels to others - and that can be just the boost we need.

BECAUSE SHE SAID SO...

Sometimes as a single mom... you just are busy. And tired. And things you may have thought to do under your 'old' circumstances (I can't say normal... cause life as is has become normal), no longer cross your mind.

My sister advised me a year ago that I needed to get my 'dating body' back. I think that was her way of saying it was time to work on those extra pounds. I will. Someday.

I got my hair cut a couple days ago, because I try to do that at least once a year. My friend who was cutting my hair informed me that our mutual friend had instructed her to tell me to get my eyebrows done. I couldn't believe that. If my friend feels that way, why wouldn't she tell me to my face? Not tell someone to tell me.

I made an appointment to get my eyebrows done... the results of that appointment are above.

Then I called my friend and told her (on voicemail) I thought we were close enough friends that she would say that to my face.

She left me a voicemail in reply telling me she has no problem telling me to my face, but she forgets (that made me feel better - because if my eyebrows were REALLY bad, how could you forget?). Then she continued on in her message telling me I need some highlights, and not blonde ones.

I made that appointment today.

It is part of getting my life together. I need to balance everything... including beauty.

So... now I just need to calendar "Lose 10 pounds".

I DON'T HAVE A HUSBAND

I am sure the title is an obvious one... but sometimes people just assume you do. Surprising given today's society... but it still happens.

One of those times was about six months after Chris passed. I was driving in a nearby city when I looked in my rear view mirror to see a cop car behind me with lights flashing. Instantly, I tried to figure out why he was pulling me over. Could it have been for talking on my phone while driving? I was surprised he would have noticed as my widows were tinted... could he really see in? Was it for speeding? I was only going five miles over the limit.. surely he wouldn't bother to stop me for that.

I pulled over dutifully and awaited the cop's arrival at my window. The entire time debating what my correct response would be to whatever he was going to fault me for.

With my window rolled down, insurance card and registration in hand, I greeted the officer. He approached my window carrying a meter of some sort and began to question whether I was aware of the fact that it is illegal to have tinted windows in the front.

Uh... no... I didn't know that. He started to pontificate on the acceptable levels, etc. and I just watched as he measured the level of 'tint' on my windows and then proceeded to write me out a ticket.

I was stunned. How do I fix the fact that I have tinted windows, I innocently asked. He handed me the ticket and told me my husband could easily remove the tint.

Thank goodness for good friends in the Sheriff's department. I drove over to the department, where my friends assisted in removing the tint (and by assist, I mean they did it for me), eliminated my ticket, and made a phone call to the ticketing officer to let him know my husband had just passed after a painful illness, so he should be ashamed of himself for bringing it up.

:) Good Friends.

GLADDEN THE LONELY

Thomas S. Monson conitinued...

The word widow appears to have had a most significant meaning to our Lord. He cautioned His disciples to beware of the example of the scribes, who feigned righteousness by their long apparel and their lengthy prayers, but who devoured the houses of widows.

To the Nephites came the direct warning: “I will come near to you to judgment; and I will be a swift witness against … those that oppress … the widow.”

And to the Prophet Joseph Smith, He directed: “The storehouse shall be kept by the consecrations of the church; and widows and orphans shall be provided for, as also the poor.”

The widow’s home is generally not large or ornate. Frequently it is a modest one in size and humble in appearance. Often it is tucked away at the top of the stairs or the back of the hallway and consists of but one room. To such homes He sends you and me.

There may exist an actual need for food, clothing—even shelter. Such can be supplied. Almost always there remains the hope for that special hyacinth to feed the soul.

"Go, gladden the lonely, the dreary; Go, comfort the weeping, the weary; Go, scatter kind deeds on your way; Oh, make the world brighter today!"

Let us remember that after the funeral flowers fade, the well wishes of friends become memories and the prayers offered and words spoken dim in the corridors of the mind. Those who grieve frequently find themselves alone. Missed are the laughter of children, the commotion of teenagers, and the tender, loving concern of a departed companion. The clock ticks more loudly, time passes more slowly, and four walls do indeed a prison make.

Hopefully, all of us may again hear the echo of words spoken by the Master, inspiring us to good deeds: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these … ye have done it unto me.”

The late Elder Richard L. Evans left for our contemplation and action this admonition:
“We who are younger should never become so blindly absorbed in our own pursuits as to forget that there are still with us those who will live in loneliness unless we let them share our lives as once they let us share theirs. …

“We cannot bring them back the morning hours of youth. But we can help them live in the warm glow of a sunset made more beautiful by our thoughtfulness, by our provision, and by our active and unfeigned love. Life in its fullness is a loving ministry of service from generation to generation. God grant that those who belong to us may never be left in loneliness.”

____

As I have been watched over and cared for, there have been many along the way on the errand of angels that have gladdened my lonely heart, comforted my weeping and scattered kind deeds along their way. I have learned for myself the impact of a small act. A phone call. Stopping by. A smile. A hug. I have learned the impact that can make in another's life. Now, I pray that I can be that light to another that so many have been to me.

PROBABLY WOULDN'T BE THIS WAY

I was out walking with a girlfriend the other night. She and her family were very close with Chris and I. His death had a huge impact on their lives... as, like mine, it changed their day-to-day living. Their kids grieved the loss and they too, transitioned into a different life after his passing.

As we were walking, she sighed and said... "I wonder what life would be like if Chris hadn't died".

It is interesting. Certainly, my life would not be anything like it is... but similarly, hers would probably not be like it is either.

Another good friend, who is going through a great personal trial right now... had her son, who is the same age as my oldest, comment... "This wouldn't have happened if Chris was here".

All of our lives were altered. It makes me think a lot of the impact of one person. He impacted many... and his passing changed lives. It changed many lives. But, while we are living, each of us has the opportunity day by day to change lives, to impact people. What kind of impact did I have on another today?

FEELING COMPLETE

My widow friend 'J' made a comment to me yesterday about how she is feeling complete without her husband. It was like a light bulb that went off in my head... and I realized that is the key. I have never thought too much about the whys in missing someone - but it occurs to me now that a lot of missing them is related to the void felt in our own lives because they are not here. We are no longer complete. And until we brick by brick re-build our lives to create a new life that is strong and full, we will continue to see and feel the void that is there.

Step-by-step.... brick-by-brick..... We rebuild until we can honestly look at ourselves and say..I am feeling complete without him. At that point they are not gone, but they are treasured. But you are complete and can continue to build on your new foundation a life that is great and grand.

THE LITTLE THINGS... LIKE GARBAGE

I have told you before about some of the changes I made after Chris' death. Due to my bad experience with the garbage when Chris was ill, I was quick to make some changes to how my garbage was disposed of.

This was not an immediate change - and I did OK for the first few months.

By OK I mean that on the multiple mornings I would hit the snooze and not be up in time to take the garbage out to the curb before they came to pick it up, there were no additional incidents. I do believe my cold location was a definite benefit. I was able to store up a few weeks of garbage without any odor or mishaps.

When I moved, I knew I had to do something different with my garbage. Early Tuesday morning was not working for me - and I didn't have any men showing up at my doorstop volunteering to assume the chore of taking the garbage out. I had a friend with an apartment complex that had an on-site dumpster... and he was kind enough to allow me to use it.

This was the perfect solution. Aside from the few downsides, such as having to throw the bags in the back of my car and people looking at my strangely, truly not understanding why I would take my garbage somewhere when there were these things called Garbage Trucks that come and pick it up at your house. They didn't understand the inconvenience of having to be so structured. I am not a very structured person in some areas. So, to be told the exact date and time for my garbage to be on the curb...I found it highly inconvenient. It has been great! No early mornings... complete flexibility. Isn't it funny how little things seem to simplify your life tremendously?

The only hitch in my whole garbage plan is when the tenants call the landlord (my friend) and report the crazy lady throwing garbage in his dumpster! My friend always thanks them for their watchful eye and promises to take care of it.

FRIENDS

Steve Harvey said, "It's almost virtually impossible for a man to be a woman's friend. The only reason we're your friend [is because] you've made it perfectly clear it will go no further than this."

So, is it a girl thing? It is really true that men can not be friends with women? Because, you know what would be perfect for a widow? A friend. A guy friend. Someone who you could go out with when your bored... who could fix broken things around the house... someone to talk to and glean the 'male perspective' from. Just a friend.

Sometimes the complications of a relationship, the emotions and the expectations, are just too much to deal with on top of everything else going on in life. But, the simpleness of a good friendship would be so ideal. The question is, if you have that friendship... and it seems to be working... is it only because, as a woman, you are completely naive to the fact that the man is just sitting around waiting for things to change?

Lesson Manual: How to Be a Widow
5. Realize as much as you want a friend, you may not ever find a friend of the male assortment. :) Can men and women really be "just friends"?

THE DIAGNOSIS

Six years ago today....

A rushed morning to be at the hospital early for a routine procedure. My husband was having the base of his esophagus stretched. I had rescheduled my appointments for the day. One appointment was not too far from the hospital and was with some construction workers who would actually be working at 7am when my husband's procedure was scheduled to begin. Once he was being put under and I was no longer allowed in the room, I ran down the road to meet my appointment. It was quick, I just needed to drop off a few things and fix a phone.

I was back to the hospital in less than twenty minutes.

As I walked down the hall I saw the doctor standing at the end, near the waiting area. I found that odd - certainly he was not done already. He caught my eye and waited for me to get closer, *** I don't know what he said. It is such a blur. Just that he stated that my husband had cancer***.

It doesn't work that way on TV. They tell you it's a possibility.... they need to run tests.... they don't tell you that you have it. Just like that without any tests being run. I questioned it. He retorted by telling me they were sending samples out to be tested, but if it came back negative - he would send them back until they got it right.

The next thing I remember is standing next to his bed. He was still groggy. The doctor came in and tried to explain to he and I what was going on. He showed us photos. I don't know what the photos are supposed to look like - but I guess the black mass was bad? They wanted to run all kinds of tests. I could tell I was going to be there a long time.

It's my oldest son's birthday. I had promised him Tim-Bits. I didn't want to let him down. I hadn't had time to run before we had come to the hospital. I called my mother-in-law to ask her to do it. My father-in-law (who had lost his first wife to cancer) answered the phone. I explained the situation. There was sorrow in his voice. Too much pity and sorrow. I broke down. I cried. Then I went to find my husband who was laying in his hospital bed in the hallway. I climbed up on the bed with him. I wanted to lay down and be close to him. But the hallway felt too strange for that. He was drinking barium... preparing for a scan.

My in-laws showed up. There we all stood in the hall. What is there to say? Chris had something to say, he looked at his mom with her eyes red from crying and told her, "Don't be sad Mom!". Our Branch President (the leader of our church) showed up just as he was heading in for his test. We asked if we could have just a minute in the room alone (the five of us). My father-in-law and our Branch President gave Chris a priesthood blessing. I felt such overwhelming peace.

The last detail I remember of that day was telling my friend Sue. She called when we were driving home. I told her the news. She cried.

GRAVESTONE

I have commented before that Chris' presence is something I have felt often in the last five years. I will sadly admit that I don't visit his gravestone very often. Don't get me wrong, it is not as if I never go there - but the frequency might be something like half a dozen times a year. And, given that I live in a very cold area - I will go months without going there. To be honest, often when I go there it is hard not to think about the day he was buried. I don't care for that memory.

Last year I went and picked out a bunch of flowers I love... no, not flowers he loved... He is not the one that has to look at them, I DO! :) So, I got flowers I loved. Of course, I don't have much of a green thumb, so I didn't give much thought to what would grow there... And Gerber Daisies were not the best choice - as once the exiting flower died, they never bloomed again. Anyhow, I thought maybe I would get myself in a better habit of visiting often. I suppose I did go there more often... just not as often as I told myself I would.

The snow has finally melted this year and it is starting to feel a little bit like spring. So, I called my girlfriend who I have not seen in way too long and asked if she wanted to go for a walk. We didn't have a particular destination in mind when we left... just used the time to talk and catch up on life. We ended up walking further than normal and ended up at the cemetery. I pulled all the dead stuff around his grave, said a quick hello and we were off.

As I left, I started to say goodbye, as did my friend. But we both stopped, then said, "no need to say goodbye.. you are coming with us aren't you". Because we know, that he does... And as we continued our walk home and my girlfriend (who happens to be the opposite of me - I have NO grace and trip over a piece of grass... she never trips) tripped... on flat ground... with nothing seemingly in the way. I started laughing and said, "It was Chris. He thinks he's funny."

CLEANING & CASSEROLES

Working full-time and caring for the kids keeps me running. There are not usually enough hours in the day to accomplish everything I need to. So luxuries, such as a clean house and a home cooked meal do not happen every day. But, I wish they did. At the end of the day when I look around and see the cluttered house and the dirty dishes from the grilled cheese I quickly made for dinner, I miss the days that I was home to clean the house and cook meals. The angels that reach out, on occassion, just to pull you up when you feel like you are sinking, truly feel as though they are sent from heaven. On more than one occassion while I was at work friends from my church (TB, KR & LS) have come over and cleaned my house and brought me a meal. Do you know how wonderful it is to come home on a day that ends with Parent Teacher Conference to a home cooked meal and a clean house? TB, KR, & LS have been fabulous in their small acts of service to me. These tasks that my life does not allow me the time to get done in a timely fashion have brought relief and joy to my life. I still love to sit in my living room and see the painted walls, and to sit in a CLEAN living room, with a full stomach from a delicious casserole and best brownies ever... that is just a gift!

UNDERSTANDING

My friend ‘J’ is coming up on her five year anniversary. As the day approaches she e-mailed me this note:

As the day comes and goes that changed your life forever, you realize that no one in the world really remembers, but it is a day you can never forget for it is one of those moments that everything changed in a flash and that flash is forever embedded in your memory.

I think one thing I have gotten much better at in terms of personal growth is to be more patient with others’ actions and words. We never know what has just happened to them or what anniversary is creeping around the corner.

After Chris’ death there was many times that I would be standing in line at the grocery store looking around watching the people around me. I would stand there thinking about how strange it is. The person in line right behind me… they have no idea I have just buried my husband. But, what is their story? I began to realize that within so many of us is something… something for which an anniversary comes and goes or a terrible burden they are facing daily while the world goes on like it is a day of normalcy.

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MY FIRST CLUE

This post is not intended for those with a weak stomach...

I have met some strong and independent women in my life that I am certain would make better widows than I do. I suppose that could be part of the reason this lot was given to me... I had a lot to learn from it.

My first clue that surviving widowhood would not come easy to me should have have been when my husband was in the hospital. I struggled making it three weeks. The day before my husband went in for surgery I decided to clean out the fridge. I knew I would not be home cooking very much for the next couple weeks - so it seemed to make sense to me to throw out anything that would not still be good in two weeks. Among the things I threw in the garbage that day was some raw perch. My husband had caught and prepared the fish, but he was seriously lacking in appetite - so he had not eaten it. I tossed the raw fish in the garbage.

My husband and I had to be at the hospital by 6am Monday morning. We arrived and he was prepped and the surgery began shortly after. I sat in the hospital room all day. Waiting... just waiting for the doctor to come out with any updates. They were occasional and slow. But every report was positive - things were going well. There were larger and more numerous tumors than what they had anticipated, so the surgery was slow going, but they were making progress. I think it was around 4:30 or 5:30 Tuesday morning when they came out to tell me the surgery was complete. Chris was sleeping and would be for some time - so it was advised that if I wanted to go home, now would be the best time. I went into see him and spent a short while with him, just watching him sleep - then I headed home to change my clothes and get ready for the day.

I arrived home around 7:30 or 8:00 and the furthest thing from my mind was putting the garbage out on the curb. As I have shared before, that wasn't even typically one of my chores. I took a shower and returned to the hospital.

It was September, but the temperature was still warm and the weather was beautiful that week, which served to be a blessing with all the driving I was doing. Saturday evening I was home taking care of a few things and went to take the week's garbage out. It was dark, but as I lifted the lid to place my garbage inside, I noticed something was dripping off the lid. I returned to the house to turn on the outside light and get a flash light, as I could not imagine why there was something in the garbage can that would be dripping. The sight I saw, I will describe... but stop reading now unless you have a tough stomach. There were thousands of maggots... literally overspilling the sides of the garbage can and falling to the pavement. Upon moving the garbage can, I discovered a mound of maggots a couple inches thick laying on the ground. I had no idea what to do. So, I called my husband's fishing friend. I explained my situation and let him know I did not need his physical help - I just needed to know how you go about getting rid of them. I had tried bug sprays, but this did not seem to do anything. I tried pouring water on them in hopes of drowning them, this made them scatter and they started climbing the brick exterior of my home. I didn't know what else to do.

He said he would be right over. I again assured him I would handle it... I just didn't know what to do. He said he would be right over. We worked together trying to destroy the thousands of maggots. It appears 'frying' them with a blowtorch is very effective.

Lesson Manual: How to Be a Widow
1. Realize that raw fish will quickly turn to thousands of maggots if left outside in hot weather for more than one week. If this most inconvenient situation should happen - a blowtorch would be the easiest solution for ridding your patio of maggots.

BECAUSE OF WHAT I AM (a widow that is)

Last year a friend’s husband was diagnosed with stage-four cancer. He had to go through an intense round of chemotherapy, was very ill and the future was unknown. My heart reached out to the family as I could clearly understand the trial they were facing. Part of me wanted to call and offer my help or just a listening ear. Another part of me (the part that won over) did not.

Do people want to see me… ME… when their husband is sick? I felt like seeing me is a big reminder of what could be. I did not feel as though I would bring hope – I would bring a gray cloud. I thought about them and prayed for them every day. Mid-summer I ran into my friend. I gave her a hug and inquired to how they were all holding up. I let her know how much I thought of them and prayed for them. I was grateful for that moment.

Her husband’s health has gotten better and he just recently returned to work.

There is something unjust about being in a position where you want to help, but because of who you are and what you are – feeling as though your presence would not be a lift to their spirits.

MY FRIEND 'J'

As a new widow, I knew other women who were widows, but I did not know any 'young widows' who were in a situation like mine (raising kids still).

Shortly after my husband died I began taking the kids to a bereavement group at Hospice. It was usually a fun activity night that allowed the kids to mingle with other kids who had lost their father and allowed us mothers to talk about life and how we were getting through. We only made it to a few of these before the kids initiated a full revolt against attending these evening. So we stopped.

I did come away from this experience with one very valuable thing. "J". The first time I attended this activity night, I was struck by another lady who was there. She was positive and honest. She wasn't afraid to smile, and helped pick up the other ladies who were there. When the evening was over she and I were walking out together and began talking. She had three kids, as I did - although hers were a few years older than mine. We made it as far as our vehicles and continued chatting about life. The kids sat in the vehicles and turned up the radio while others ran around on the lawn, and others sat there with ornery expressions. But, we just talked. And talked. And talked. We finally caved to the pleadings of the children and exchanged phone numbers and were off.

Here and there over the next five years we would talk. We were very different people but were connected by our similar burdens. I have found great peace in knowing her and watching that somehow we seemed to take similar paths. Words and people and situations might be different - but there was also this strange similarity that gave me peace to see... it is all normal. It is all part of a process. We have both evolved.

I laugh to myself sometimes when I am in the middle of 'crashing'... mentally, physically... she seems to disappear as well. I have quickly gathered that it is because we are on the same train. We can go full speed ahead for awhile... but then we stop. Recover. And then we are back.

If you don't have a 'J' I hope you will find one here. I hope you can read of my experiences and feel understood. Have your feelings validated. Sometimes... just knowing we aren't crazy can be one of the greatest gifts!

NOW THAT.... THAT IS A FRIEND!

My husband had a couple very close friends. One of them he spent many hours out on Lake Eire or in the Canadaway Creek fishing with. They both loved to fish - and enjoyed the pastime together. Often they would take the boys and enjoy the day, while us girls would enjoy some time together as well.

After my husband passed, I called on his fishing friend often for help when I needed it. He was (is) always so gracious in being willing to help me when I need it. One of those days that I really needed his help was about two months after I had moved into the home I am in now. I will warn you now... the weak in stomach... this story may not be for you!

After I moved in to this home - my niece moved in with me. It was her senior year of high school and her mother was moving out of state - but she wanted to finish her high school career in the east. About a month later I noticed a foul smell. I could not tell where it was coming from - but I thought maybe one of the cats (we had one and my niece had one) had caught a mouse that was decaying in the house. We searched all over - but could find nothing.

Every day I would come home from work and feel as though the smell was getting worse and worse. I finally could not take the smell any longer. I called my husband's fishing friend and asked him what he thought I should do. I told him that I had searched the house and could not find anything. I explained the the scent was the worst just as I was entering the house but that I could also smell it stronger (not as strong as I could by the front door) while in my niece's bedroom. I thought an animal must have gotten in the attic, as her room had a small access door off the closet. I had even gone into the attic and looked around - but found nothing.

He kindly agreed to come over and take a look. He went up into the attic with a flash light. Searching every corner and crevice, it took him a little while - but he finally found it. There was something way down in the rafters of the house. He could not get there (without the fear of falling) so he had to come up with some creative way of getting, whatever it was, out. As he set up some lights and tried to get closer, he quickly realized it was a cat. After asking my niece about it - she started to cry. She revealed that her cat had been missing for a few days. She thought he had just gone outside and she hoped he would come back.

The foul smell was even more foul where my husband's poor fishing friend was having to work and he was not having much luck as the cat seemed to be stuck. After an hour of trying to get the cat, he finally had the idea to remove the front porch light and try to go in from there to retrieve the feline. He asked us to have a bag ready. Once the light was removed the smell became almost unbearable.

In the meantime I called my husband's other good friend who lived in the country. I explained our predicament and explained that the odor was so horrible I didn't know where we would put the feline once we were able to get him out. I inquired if it were possible for us to bury the cat back in his woods. He agreed.

The fishing friend had much more luck once he changed the location he was working from. It was not too much longer and the feline was retrieved and placed in his burial bag. Luckily my friend also drove a truck and agreed to drive me out (with the cat in the bed of the truck) to bury the cat. The odor was so atrocious the entire neighborhood was consumed with the smell. I was so hoping no one would be able to detect which home was letting off the unbearable odor.

Attempting to control my reflex to heave repeatedly, we drove out to my other friend's home. With a cat and a shovel.

Upon our arrival, we found the burial spot had already been prepared. As we finished the burial process, I half worried that the smell would draw animals in and risk the feline being "unburied". But then I determined the odor was so atrocious - no animal would want to come close.

Now, I ask you this. Who has friends as good as these two men? To give up their evening to climb around in my stinking attic and to dig a hole and be ready for me? That is friendship.

As we drove home that evening, I looked at my husband's best friend and said... "I hope the fishing was good. 'Cause having to deal with the widow... not so good".

AM I INVISIBLE?

Probably similar to most couples, my husband and I had "our" friends and we had a few "his" and "hers" friends. Mostly because he had friends from work and I had some friends from story-time at the library and things like that. But I knew his friends. I used to take my husband's lunch to work almost every day. It was a good perk to see him halfway through the day and if the kids were being bad - he could "encourage" them to be good. :) It was our routine. I would sometimes see some of his friends as I was dropping lunch off... or at the company picnic in the summer or at the holiday dinner. And sometimes they came to the house to help my husband with a project he was working on that he needed an extra pair of hands for. If they saw me in town they would always say hello. I knew them by name, and they knew me.

The day of Chris' funeral, they must have taken those couple of hours off work. They were there. To honor him. They were a good group of guys.

I remember the first time I saw one of them at the store after the funeral. I caught his eye, and smiled warmly. He continued on, no reaction. I saw another months later. I said hello. I don't know who he thought I was talking to. No reaction. I was very sad to find this was the norm now. It was like I didn't exist. If I am anything, I am stubborn. I have consistently attempted to get SOME sort of reaction EVERY time I have seen one of his firends. Just recently I was at the gym, one of them was there working out. I smile. Nothing. Well, it's the gym. We aren't passing on the street where he can ignore me once and be safe. I kept passing him. Every time I would look at him straight on and smile. nothing. Am I invisible?

I was out running an errand for work the other day and a man looked at me and said, "Hey, are you..." I looked at him, and recognized him as someone that worked with my husband. Not someone I knew - but he was familiar. I smiled. "Yes, I am surprised you recognized me." "You used to bring him lunch every day, we all would recognize you." We exchanged a few words and I continued on... just feeling glad that SOMEONE wasn't afraid to say hello. That someone remembered my husband with fondness, as I do.