A community of peers created by the Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation
When I started coming to this site, I gave my name as the Bad Widow. I thought that since I hadn't cried for my husband or myself for that matter, that I hadn't actually grieved. Yes there was so much more to it, I had lost so many people in a short time and dealt with my daughters health and mental issues, had started a new job shortly before my husband died, let my husbands best friend move in, and later showed his ass to the door. I put one foot in front of the other and kept my head low. I thought that this was the way to do things. I had only known 2 other widows and they were both widowed in their early 20's and they had both gone on to have new marriages and kids and amazing lives. I had never thought to ask them how they did it, after all when they became widows I was still in my early 20's . I figured here I was 20 years later, I could handle it. And handle it I did for 2 1/2 years. Or rather I denied it for 2 1/2 years.
Marsha had written a blog and claimed that I was too hard on myself and that we were all Bad Ass Widows, trying to find our ways through this journey of widowhood. I thought about it and she was right. We all are Bad Ass, I just stole the name and figured it fit and on most days it does.
But lately, I am finding that my own so called lack of respect for death is starting to kick in again. Now this is just me and many of you who know me knows that my sense of humor kicks in big time, especially when I am feeling out of sorts with the world.
Example #1, I went to visit my mother in laws grave by myself, as the first time I went I could not stop giggling because of a story Gina told about her grandson and the bunny statues. My father in law was not as amused. So this time I went and still had the giggles, as I watched a deer completely destroy a beautiful hanging plant on another grave. I did yell at it and it calmly looked at me and turned back to eating the flowers. All I could think of was Keiths wish not to be buried as he didnt want deer dancing on his grave. Singing nah nah nah nah, you cant get me now hunterman!
Example #2, Keiths ashes normally reside on the backseat of his truck. He loved that truck so it seems like the natural thing to do. But since Saturday, he has been in the kitchen. I have moved him from counter to counter and back again whenever he has become in the way. Well today after unloading the groceries and realizing that I put a container of cherry tomatos on him, I thought ok, thats just not right. Not because I was using him as a shelf, but because Keith hated cherry tomatos. I think if I had put a bottle of beer on him or a pack of cigarettes I wouldnt have batted an eye.
Maybe I am getting my grief jumbled up again. This is the first Fathers Day without my Dad and I have been writing little "Dad"isms about him on Facebook. After my Mom died I took over the role of chauffer and cook and advocate and shopper and appointment maker for two years. I am writing down all these memorys of him as I so desperately want to remember him and I want the grandkids to remember him.
Maybe its because that after 3 years I am starting to forget things about Keith, the good and the bad. My daughter has prompted me to start writing things down about him and lately she remembers more than I do. I can remember his eyes but I cant remember his voice. I can remember his touch, but not his smell. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Does this mean I am healing or does it mean that I am denying again? Am I using my humor which I inherited from my Dad to stave off the pain of thinking I really am a bad widow? Its all so confusing and aggravating and frustrating. I want to be that person who brings a smile to someone who is having a bad day, that is who I am. That is what I am good at. But lately, I have lost the Bad Ass and just become the Bad or the Ass for that matter.
So bear with me guys, as I find the Bad Ass Widow again.