Caring people

I just got back from three grueling weeks on the road.  Business travel became really tough for me after Lane died. So I have limited these types of trips.  But this one was unavoidable.

Anyway the work was good and the client team was great.  I even got to spend a weekend visiting my daughter and grandson in New York.  Then on the day before I was supposed to come home I got food poisoning and my back went out.  I spent the night in my hotel room moaning, groaning and completely miserable.

But some kind of amazing things happened that night.  I got texts from my worried clients every couple of hours.   I never met these people before this trip and their concern really made me feel good.  My next-door neighbor called that night because he was worried about me when he saw the junk mail piling up on my porch.  He called to check that I was okay.  And, my niece Leslie, who is my rock checked out area hospitals just in case I needed to get to an emergency room.

I managed to get home the next day and although I’m not quite 100% I will live.  I learned something on this trip. Sometimes people do care more than I think. It felt nice to know that I had support and others were looking out for me. Since Lane died I have struggled with the feeling that nobody cares what happens to me.  Maybe I was wrong.

Have you had any experiences that reminded you that others do care?

Sue

What's a widow to do?

I'm on a plane right now returning home from a week long business trip.  I  spent the whole week working with a team from an important client.  My client team was composed of a couple of nice men who were both married with children.  The younger guy (around 30) had a new baby and really enjoyed talking about son and wife.  It was sweet.  The other man (mid 50’s I think) was extremely proud of his accomplished wife.  He was eager to regale us with stories at dinner about his wife’s business and her successes.

I never know how to exactly these “business/social” situations.  It feels awkward saying “Oh by the way my husband is dead so that’s why I don’t talk about him.”  On the other hand, avoiding the obvious seems weird too.  It is easy to chime in and share information about the kids or grandchildren.  But it feels really uncomfortable and frankly sad to tell people you are a widow. 

So I went the whole week without mentioning it.  Then on departure at the airport the younger man asked me what my husband did for a living.  It was an innocent question that deserved a truthful answer.  However, for a minute I thought why don’t I just go along and tell him Lane was in advertising, a creative director.  It was his job for several decades so that’s not a fabrication.  The “was” sort of implies he’s retired.  Which if you stretch the truth a little bit is also true. 

I finally blurted out the ugly truth.  His face became flushed with pity. He looked down and said he was sorry.  I felt sorry for him.  Which was also awkward and embarrassing.

So how do I handle this next time?  I’ll you posted.   Suggestions are welcomed.

I will be traveling for business over the next couple of weeks . Be back at the end of the month.  Hope you will be.

Sue

Not interesting enough

I got a call this week from a production company that is trying to put together a reality show about the life of a widow.  I looked up the company and it is legitimate and well known in the reality TV world. He had seen this blog and thought maybe I knew some women that would be willing to audition.  

Anyway the man (sounded  pretty young) calling explained that the concept was to follow three widows trying to rebuild their lives without their husbands.

After a few minutes I knew that  this reality show was going to be far from realistic.  The production company wants to focus on  military widows, 25-40 who have lost their husbands in  battle.  They might, however, consider other widows 40 and under whose husband died in a "tragic manner" like a plane crash.

He ended his speech on requirements by telling me that the show was going to be a documentary following these women in their quest to find new husbands.  If he hadn't been so serious I would have laughed out loud.  I gently told him that adjusting to being a widow had a lot more challenges than just finding a new husband.  And that most of the widows out there were older than 25-40.  Perhaps, our husbands didn't die tragically by his definition but their deaths were tragic to us.

He politely responded that "regular widows" were not interesting enough to be on television.   "Who wants to watch a bunch of older women?"  he said.  And I had to agree with him.  Heck, we have a hard time getting our families and friends to pay attention to us.  Why would strangers?  Maybe that's my problem -- I'm just not interesting enough.

Are you?

Sue

What if?

Due to my recent bout with insomnia, I have had extra hours to think.  The last couple of nights I began running scenarios through my mind envisioning how my life would be today if Lane hadn't died.   What if Lane were still here:

-  Would we have taken that trip to South America we talked about? 

-  Would we be retired?

-  Would I have lost 25 pounds?

-  Would he be in good health?

-  Would he still be cleaning the basement?  

-  Would I be sleeping better?

-  Would he be completely bald?

-  Would we have as much fun as we did in the old days?

I can't say I have answers to these "what ifs."  I just know I would be a happier person if Lane were still here.

What ifs do you think about?

Sue