Haiku

I enjoy writing Haiku and find writing them very therapeutic. Here are some of my efforts. The first two relate to hope and happy memories:

The lark's joyous song
fills the gloomy weeping sky
and I look upwards

Silence surrounds me
remembered conversations
bring a gentle smile

...and this one is for John whose passion was to fish on the Waitemata harbour at dawn...

Waitemata dawn
Golden glow on silver sea
Quietly fishing

House Repairs

The roof of my house is being replaced. John told me before he died that this needed doing and I have now, finally, got around to getting it done. This is the biggest job on the house that I have undertaken alone...oh, no, I'm not doing it...I just organised it! It has been an interesting experience. Tradesmen very quickly realise you are a woman alone and try to be clever by pulling a fast one over you. I came home one day to find my beautiful sky light had been replaced with a nasty piece of corrugated plastic. Of course I immediately complained to the company and demanded a proper sky light as a replacement but I was left wondering how many older people or women alone experience this sort of thing and are too timid to say anything. Anyway the roof is looking very smart and I am getting the upper part of the house painted also. I am feeling quite pleased with myself as these sorts of jobs were always arranged by John.

Insensitive but well meaning friends

Once you are widowed you will find some friends try to organise your life thinking they know what is best for you. They will constantly make suggestions as to what "you ought to do". Although I know they are well meaning it irks me a lot. I am perfectly capable of organising my life thank you very much! Others almost resent the fact that you are coping and seem to expect you to be obviously distressed all the time. They do not realise that the hardest times are when you are alone...the long nights and weekends when everyone else is with their family or someone significant. Public holidays are also difficult. You usually have the choice of staying home and feeling isolated or going out and seeing lots of happy couples and families. One friend was telling me recently about the wonderful and expensive lunch she had shared with her husband and friends at a winery. She asked me if I had gone there for lunch when I visited the same town a few weeks back. She was oblivious to the fact that an expensive long lunch in a winery is not something you do alone. Another friend tells me that whenever someone asks her how I am doing she tells them I am doing "extremely well". When she says this there is a tone of disapproval in her voice. Honestly! As if there isn't enough to cope with without other people trying to pull you down and make you feel guilty. I miss John every minute of every day but I have to get on with life and make of it what I can, as he would want me to.

Happiness and grief

Something I learned long ago is that each individual is responsible for their own happiness. No one else can be expected to make you happy and no one else is responsible for your unhappiness. It is your own choice to be either happy or unhappy. Some unhappy people blame the world and everyone in it for their state of mind when in reality they only have themselves to blame. They have chosen a life of blame and negativity. There is no doubt in my mind that a positive outlook and happy demeanour will pay huge dividends in the end. None of this denies the overwhelming feelings of grief we feel when someone we love dies. Deep grief is the result of deep love and is a necessary step on the way to recovery for the one left behind. It is also an absolute truism that love never dies. You will always love that person as if they are still with you. I have found that a good way to deal with grief is to dwell on the positive...like "wasn't I lucky to have him as my husband?" and to remember the many good times and happy moments. Make this a habit. Do not think about what you have lost as much as what wonderful things you had. Sure there will still be tears and moments of great sadness and loneliness but do try to be positive and, I assure you, the tears and moments of despair will gradually ease.

Today is the second anniversary of my darling husband's death. Anniversaries are strange days. For some reason feelings of loss and grief are intensified and are felt more strongly than on the other days of the year. I have found that creating rituals is a good way to deal with anniversaries. This morning I went into the city to the cathedral and lit a candle for John. It was so serene there that I enjoyed just sitting quietly and thinking about him. I find lighting a candle a very satisfying ritual and it makes me happy to think that the little candle will burn for several hours in John's memory. I then met up with my eldest son for coffee and to share some memories of John. His favourite ritual is to wear one of John's ties to work on this date. It makes him feel close to his Dad. Kind friends have rung me and sent flowers and it is such a good feeling to know that amidst their busy lives they have remembered John. As time goes by the grief and sadness do lift but in other ways widowhood becomes more difficult. The reality of being alone sets in, the loss of a warm and happy companionship hard to bear. It is a strange fact that when we marry we never really think about the time when we will/may be alone but I do remember my mother saying "Every love story has an unhappy ending"...so true.
So here, for the record, are some memories of John. Beautiful, sparkling blue eyes, a wicked grin and sense of humour, a devoted husband and father...he adored his sons. John had a strong, quiet wisdom much admired by all who knew him. He was conscientious and loyal, loved cars and was an enthusiastic fisherman. There is a lot more I could say but I'll just say that he was a wonderful man, my best friend and will always be deeply and sadly missed.

If you have married young and had a long and happy marriage it is strange and new to be suddenly living alone. It takes a lot of adjusting to. The hardest part is the loneliness. I think the thing I miss most is just the inconsequential chatter...just passing time together and talking about this and that....even just being together and not talking at all. Our deep and meaningful conversations are memorable and etched on my mind and heart so are still with me and therefore not missed so much. One of our favourite pastimes was to go for a walk beside the river after dinner. We would chat and gossip and just be generally good friends. I miss that greatly. I still make a point of walking by the river. Sometimes it is painful. Sometimes I smile at a happy memory. That is the nature of widowhood, I guess.

OK, so here I am writing my first post on Widow Speak. In a few weeks it will be two years since my husband died of cancer after an illness which lasted about a year. Or I should say which we knew about for about a year. I am convinced he had had it for a long time before it was diagnosed. I understand that in its early stages cancer can be lurking a long time before making its presence felt. Anyway, the purpose of this blog is not to be morbid or self pitying but to share a few things I have learned over the past couple of years about what it is like to be widowed, earlier than would be expected. I hope I can pass on some helpful hints and also provide a forum for other widows.