The Widow Pariah

I’ve noticed something the past few months, ever since my husband died and I became a widow at a comparatively young age.  I’ve noticed that many of the mothers I see at school functions and other places, like the grocery store, tend to keep away from me now, and in fact, seem to be scared of me for some reason.

     I feel somewhat like a pariah, as these women glance at me and try to avoid talking to me, as if my widowhood is a disease or illness they might catch from me, prompting their own husbands to suddenly drop dead.

     I’ve been abandoned at school affairs, and the other day at my daughter’s first cheerleading event, where she was cheering for the 5th-6^th grade football team, I was given a wide berth by all the other women, and ended up sitting quite alone in the stands.  At the concession area, I went up to a group of them and started a conversation.  They all looked incredibly nervous and found reasons to end the conversation as soon as possible.  A few minutes later, however, as I looked back from the stands, they were all gathered back together and talking away.

     I want to gather these women together and say, “Hey, you can’t catch widowhood from me, it’s not contagious!  If you talk to me your husbands won’t die too.”

     But I don’t think they would believe me.  So I stand alone, the widow pariah, hoping that someone will realize that just because my husband died I’m still me, the person they knew 8 months ago…one who is a bit sadder and wiser, but one who is still the essential person she was before.

First Father's Day without my husband...

This year will be a year of firsts after losing my husband.  He was in the hospital, on a respirator, and sedated for my 12 year old daughters’ birthday back in February…of course, at the time he was expected to recover, and we thought we’d just have a late party for her after he came back home.  But that wasn’t to be.  My 19 year old daughter wanted a very quiet birthday in May…she didn’t even want a cake, just had cupcakes.  She was very close to her father, and was rather sad on her birthday, since he always took her to see the Cleveland Indians play as a birthday treat around that time.  I said that I would take her, but she thanked me politely and said no, it wouldn’t be the same.  So I knew that it would be difficult when Father’s Day came around.  It was doubly difficult in a way because my father is still alive, and we went to my parent’s house for cake and to give him a gift.  My oldest daughter wanted to go to the cemetery, but my son thought that wasn’t too wise yet because she still cries a lot when she thinks about him, and he was afraid that she would get very emotional (her nickname is The Drama Queen) on him and he wouldn’t be able to quiet her down.  (This has happened at home several times.)  We spent the day rather quietly.  We talked about my husband and what a wonderful person he was.  After we visited my parents, we came home, sat out on the porch, and watched the stars come out while we talked about him again.  This will be a difficult year, this week it’s the first 4^th of July without him, and he always bought fireworks and set them off for the girls.  I’m buying some, NO rockets, which I’m not good with, but cones and fountains and lots of sparklers.  Then there will my son’s and my birthday, the first Halloween, the first Thanksgiving, and what will be the hardest, the first Christmas without him.  My husband always went out of his way to get everyone a special gift, something wanted, but not expected.  I’m resolved to keep that tradition alive myself this year.  It’s just so, so hard sometimes, especially trying to help my daughters when they are sad. 

Embarrassing Moments

I started collecting squirrels several years ago.  Not real ones, of course, although we do have quite a few of the real ones running around in our back yard looking for handouts.  I collect non-animate squirrels.  I have a basket on top of my refrigerator that has a collection of stuffed squirrels; I have some wall plaques, and some wooden ones.

Last year, my children bought me a shirt they saw in a local department store.  On the shirt are two squirrels.  One has a bikini bathing suit top in its hand, holding it at arm’s length, with a bar that says CENSORED across its chest.  The squirrel next to it is holding a mug of beer.  Underneath the squirrels are the words: Squirrels Gone Wild.

I don’t wear the shirt out in public, (the neighbors think I’m weird enough because of my interest in amateur astronomy), but I do wear it around the house.  Today, my 19 year old daughter decided to treat us to pizza.  I called the local pizza parlor, and place an order for delivery. 

The pizza delivery man showed up about 45 minutes later.  As I went out on the porch to pay him, I realized that his eyes had strayed down to the front of my shirt and fastened there in a kind of wonder.  Indignantly, I glanced down to see what he was looking at.  That’s when I realized that I was wearing the Squirrel shirt. The delivery man seemed to not be able to take his eyes off my chest, fumbling for the money in my hands, and almost dropping the pizza on the ground.  I grabbed the pizza, slipped a few bucks for a tip in his hand, and ran inside.

This was ALMOST as embarrassing as the Chilly Willy incident at the local church festival several years ago.  My younger daughter, who was around 9 or 10 at the time, and I were at the festival.  She had gone to one of the “fish” booths and won whatever she wanted in the booth.  She picked as her prize a large, plastic inflatable Chilly Willy penguin.  Chilly Willy was wearing a red hat, and had his beak open and parted.  My daughter found some friends of hers and wanted to go on the rides with them, so she handed me Chilly Willy.  I was carrying him facing me, sort of like he was a baby…after three kids that was a very familiar hold.  After a while, I noticed that older boys, and men, were staring at my chest with a strange look on their faces.  I didn’t know what they were looking at until I glanced down and almost died of embarrassment.  I was holding Chilly Willy in my arms, like a baby, and his beak was right over my, um, well…Chilly Willy looked like he was nursing!  I immediately dropped him down and carried him by the arm for the rest of the night, but it was a long time before I could look at that darn penguin without blushing!

Coping after a loss

Well, a lot has happened since I started posting here.  My husband died in February, my website is temporarily down, and I've had to assume the mantel of responsibility that he (my late husband) hadn't assumed in quite a while.  I'm getting very handy repairing the unfinished repairs and chores he left around the house!

Personally, I've become the glue that holds the family together.  it's a difficult task, since my daughters were very close to their Dad.  (I have two, 19 and 12.)  My son (21) is holding on better, since he wasn't quite as close to his father.  (The male testosterone thingy...both wanted to be the alpha male, and since my husband had problems holding down a job, and my son made more money at his job, it was a growly, fighting-to-see-who-controlled-the-pack type of relationship.)  So there are a lot of tears and a lot of missing him by both girls, but I try to be as helpful as possible.

And life goes on...

6 Steps To Fame

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I'll introduce myself:  I'm Lisa, mother of three, wife, pet wrangler, historian and amateur astronomer.  Writer, stargazer, dreamer, mystic...I see myself as many different things.  Mostly, I'm a mother.  I have a son who will be 21 in September, a daughter who just turned 19, and an 12 year old daughter.  I'm also a mother to the two dogs and several cats we have.  I've was married for 24 years and recently became a widow.  I enjoy reading histories, biographies, and science books.  My favorite historical era is the time of the Tudors; I'm a bit of an expert on Anne Boleyn and her daughter Elizabeth I.  I love to stargaze, using one of my three telescopes, cook, read and daydream.  My secret vice is:  Watching Ghost Hunters on the Sci Fi channel.  I love The Killers, and have several of their songs as ringtones on my cell phone and I've seen them twice in concert.