For almost two years I've thought about starting this blog, but wasn't sure anyone would read it. I've finally decided to do it for me, and if someone else gets something out of it, that's a bonus!
Widow's Weeds - we've all heard the term, but what is it exactly? Basically, widow's weeds were clothes worn by a widow during a period of mourning for her husband. The term comes from the Victorian age. Yes, I'm a widow. My husband passed away just over 2 years ago in September 2009. What I hope to accomplish with this blog is to help other widows avoid some pitfalls that I found and to take a lighter look at what can be a serious situation in many ways.
Beginning at the beginning is always best since I like to keep things orderly. It was a Sunday afternoon coming home from choir practice at church when I found my husband, John, laying in our front yard. I think I knew by the position he was in that he was already gone, and had probably died instantly. Nonetheless, it was a shock and I quickly dialed 911 while banging on the front door to alert our 15 year old son, Caleb. In the midst of this tragedy I entertained one of my proudest "mom" moments as I listened to the lady on the other end of the 911 call tell me how to do CPR because I could tell her that my son was doing exactly what she was telling me. He had tears running down his face, but he was perfectly pumping away at his father's chest. The ambulance arrived quickly and the paramedics took over only to stop within seconds because it was a futile effort. They told me what I already knew. Once again, I had to be proud as I watched my son take over and call his uncles (one by blood and one by friendship). I made a call to our pastor and within 10 minutes my driveway was full of friends and neighbors. All of a sudden, I became a widow!
Widow....the images brought forth are of dark, black clothing, wizened old women, dim lights, rocking chairs, and so on. Not necessarily so! I was only 56 at the time, in very good health, didn't own much black clothing, and didn't have time to sit in a rocking chair. I was working full time, had a 15 year old to worry about, was active in my church, enjoyed several hobbies, and wasn't about to give all that up to become a "widow". Luckily, times have changed and widows are much more atypical now. Yes, I wore a black dress to the funeral, but I haven't worn it since.
The first piece of advice I have is to not let the funeral director tell you what will happen at the memorial service. I knew my husband better than anyone else (or so I thought, but that's a topic for later) so I knew what he wanted for his last celebration. John was a believer, so the funeral would be at our church, not the mortuary. I told the funeral director the service would take two hours and he looked at me like I had lost my mind! You see, John was an eighth grade teacher and a very good one. Those kids knew he loved them and I knew they would all show up and need closure. I told the funeral director that anyone who had something to say needed to be heard. The funeral lasted 2 hours and 4 minutes! At least 30 of his students lined up to speak about what a fine teacher he was and what a difference he had made for them. Needless to say, the church was packed and there wasn't a dry eye anywhere. Later the funeral director told me I had been right!
John was buried at the veteran's cemetery with military honors. The one thing that I regret about his burial was that he was put into his grave without me or our son in attendance. The people at the cemetery had us in an office picking out a saying to engrave on his headstone while he was being buried. Had I known, I would have made them wait and paid my last respects as John was laid to rest. So, there's another piece of advice - make sure you know what's going on so you can participate in what means the most to you.
Thanks for taking this journey with me.....more to come...
No comments:
Post a Comment