Today I went to a morning tea with seven other women from a large group I belong to. Due to the pandemic a few had decided they are not ready to go out yet but we were out in the open on a lovely Spring day, social distancing, drinking coffee, talking, catching up. It was a great morning. Two of the women are recently bereaved and one was out for the first time. That was our reason for being there as none of us were at either husband's funeral. One of the widows sat next to me and said she was glad she was with someone who knew how she was feeling. I understand that. I know we can't understand exactly what someone else is feeling but we can understand some of it. And that can be a comfort to others. I hope the two women felt better because they had been out among friends.
I could tell you how bored I am with the shut down due to the pandemic but I guess a lot of you are feeling exactly the same. I really do not have a lot to complain about. I have plenty to do in the house and garden and I know I could do more to reach out to other shut ins, continue making phone calls to the church widows etc. But really I have a lot to keep me occupied right here at home. As one of the ladies said today my garden has never looked tidier, my ironing pile is zero and I am half way round the house changing curtains. I have planted out some of the herb troughs after using the last of the herbs in them. It has been a good year for parsley and some of the salad herbs survived winter. I will never win a prize for my garden but it supplies me with some food and flowers and a lot of joy.
But I do sometimes feel like Cinderella. Today because I wanted a Spring look I tried on some of the dresses I bought a couple of years ago before I had the leg operation. One of my fashionista friends told me if I wore black stockings no-one would see the pressure stockings under them and I could wear dresses again. And of course when I got to the cafe everyone else was wearing slacks and pretty tops. When will I remember it is not about what you wear it is about who you are and how you relate to others and not get myself into a tizzy when I have somewhere to go? Maybe one day it will not just be about how ugly the stockings make me feel. I think in many ways not having someone to ask: " How do I look?" makes a difference to how confident I feel. Anyone got a spare fairy godmother, I could use one right now because some days I feel like one of the ugly sisters.
Two more weeks and we go onto daylight saving. Two more weeks and Trevor and Alice will be here for the first week of her Spring break. The little girls next door are changing bedrooms so will be back on my side of the house again. Every time they hear me in my back yard they come to their window and call out to me. I missed that in winter when we all had our doors and windows shut against the weather. I Love the interaction with them now as it makes me feel less lonely. I have done a lot of children's work through my church and so I am at ease with kids. These are not perfect and sometimes not in harmony with each other but their cheerfulness and joy in life inspires me on days when my own life needs that cheer up call. I like their parents too. I have lived in this neighbourhood for decades and have had very few people around I could not get on with. I have been so lucky in that way.
Last Friday I went to the throat specialist and the left side of my thyroid is performing well and I don't have to have medication. Another Blessing. So nice to have that reassurance. The other clearance from my neurosurgeon has been postponed so no results till the end of October so I am assuming no news is good news. Maybe I am completely healthy now? Today I listened to the health reports from my older friends and made the sympathetic noises at what I hoped were the right times. We all age but some with less illness than others. The least we can do is provide sympathy as needed. The two widows looked sad as those still married talked about the family gatherings for Fathers Day etc but as we have they will get used to that empty space in their lives.
On Saturday it will be eight years since Ray died. I intend to have lunch out and go for a drive if it is a nice day. If it isn't I will open up some of the photo albums, play some of our favourite music and indulge in some reminiscing. Eight years seems such a long time but it isn't when you consider we had 44 years of marriage preceding Ray's death.. I wish sometimes that my family would contact me on those special anniversary days but they have as we are so often told their own lives to live and to them it must seem a lot time ago and of course that I am "over it" now. Are we ever over it? Or do we just downplay our emotions, and facing the world put on the happy smile and say we are okay?