Irony

There is some satisfaction in irony, otherwise known as God's sense of humor.  I find it interesting to observe how things turn out and I particularly enjoy ironic situations.

As I noted before, John was a collector of many things and he never got rid of anything, therefore my sons and I had an enormous task before us when he died.  What do we do with all of this stuff???  One of John's prized possessions was a 1979 Harley Davidson motorcycle.  He rode it when we lived in New Mexico, but only rode it once after we moved to Tennessee.  He always had an excuse - didn't like the helmet law, needed engine work, wanted an electric starter, and so on.  So, the bike sat in our garage for 8 years and, at the time of his death, it wouldn't even start up.  He left it to Caleb in his will.  Now, what is a 15 year old who doesn't drive and barely weighs 110 pounds going to do with a heavy, fast, old Harley that doesn't run? It would be years before Caleb could handle the bike and it had already been sitting around for too long, so Caleb made the right decision and said he would sell it and use the money for his first vehicle.  Wise choice! First we had to have it repaired so it would run.  Luckily we knew someone who had a repair shop that worked on motorcycles.  He picked it up and seemed to actually have fun working on it. When he had it running we put it on craigs list and waited, and waited, and reposted, and waited........ I talked to people constantly about it, hoping that someone would want to buy it, but no luck.  This went on for over a year.

Then it happened...a soldier from Fort Campbell called me and couldn't wait to see the Harley! This young man was part of a group of soldiers who disarm bombs and they had just returned from Iraq. He and two others came to see the Harley after work one evening.  The bike was exactly what he was looking for because he wanted an old Harley to tear down and rebuild.  The way I see it, this was God's plan all along - that this soldier should have this Harley.  The reason it didn't sell sooner was because he was in Iraq.  It was meant to be his, so no one else could buy it. Some people may think I've taken the predestination thing a little too far here, but it makes sense to me.

Here's the irony.....my husband was a Marine and very proud of it (as he should have been).  He always thought that any other branch of the service was inferior, but especially the Army!  As this soldier drove off with John's Harley in the back of his truck I looked at my son, Evan, and said "John has to be rolling over in his grave right now!"  He was thinking the same thing.

To take that irony a little further, Evan found the perfect truck for Caleb to purchase as his first vehicle - a beautiful silver Ford Ranger pick-up.  Caleb fell in love with it as soon as he saw it and knew it was meant to be his.  The guy who owned it was selling it because he was in the Army and being transferred to Germany for three years! Oh, sweet irony!

In my last entry I didn't come right out and give any advice, but I hope it was understood that I was saying "Just rely on God".  Follow His lead and you'll be fine, but you have to be ready to take the curves in the road because it's not always going to be smooth and straight.  Today's entry is more of the same...wait on God and He will make things happen perfectly.  Try not to be in a hurry because God seems to do His best work when we give him space and time. Relax and watch...you won't be disappointed.

Thanks for taking this journey with me....more to come.

God provides

As I look back over the last two years I can see so many times when God provided exactly what I needed.  It may not have been what I wanted or when I wanted it, but His timing was perfect.

The first time this was evident was immediately after John died.  My older son from my first marriage, Evan, had been living in Phoenix, but was having a tough time finding work in 2009 because most places were struggling in the poor economy and laying workers off.  The company he had been working for had to close down and other places weren't hiring.  In August John and I decided to invite Evan to move to Nashville where the job market was slightly better.  He could stay with us for a few months, find a job and get back on his feet.  Evan started working the week before John passed away and was actually working that Sunday. God's plan and timing were perfect! Evan was in place, acclimated to life in Nashville, working, and available.  I didn't even have to think very long to know that God had this all figured out long before He took John home. Evan has been, and continues to be, a big help with home maintenance, yard work, and doing "man" things with Caleb.

God continued to provide for us at the dirty, ugly social security office full of interesting people.  I knew I had to go there and my mother pushed me to go, but I really didn't know what I had to do.  Sure, I've heard that people who loose a spouse and have children receive compensation from social security, but I didn't know how it worked or if I would qualify.  Once again, God took over and blessed me.  As I said before, John was a teacher, and we all know that teachers are grossly under-paid.  John also had an impulsive side and liked to spend money, so we had come to an agreement many years before that he would give me a certain amount from his pay checks for the household bills and the rest was his to play with. Well, the social security income that I was awarded for Caleb came to within a few dollars of what John had provided every month! We would be fine!

The down side to the social security income is that it ends when Caleb graduates from high school, which will be next May.  This doesn't make sense to me because college is going to be much more expensive than public high school, but those are the rules.  With that in mind, I know that I will have to sell our house and find something smaller with a lower mortgage payment.  I'm okay with that.  I've spent the last two years cleaning out the house and getting ready for this event.  John was a collector of many things and he had every nook and cranny of the house filled.  He was a true believer that "He who dies with the most toys wins!"  I'm not sure what the prize was, but he definitely won!  We've had 6 yard sales, an estate sale, I've sold many things on craigs list, and given away lots more.  This was another source of income for awhile, but the main goal was to clean things out and have breathing room.  Mission accomplished!

My house is now on the market and we're just waiting for the buyer that God has picked out to come along and buy it.  You see, I know God has a plan and I'm not at all stressed about the house because He will either provide the buyer or He will provide the means for us to keep the house.  Either way, I'm fine and ready to accept His leading.  He's never let me down before!

Thanks for taking this journey with me....more to come!

Changing friends

Friends can be fickle creatures - one minute they're with you and the next they can be gone! I've often noticed how a major life change will also change your circle of friends.  Moving away from home causes a shift in friends.  Getting married changes friendships - you take on some of your spouse's friends and you lose some of yours. Being a widow is no different.  One would think that by the time you become a widow your friends should be solidified - not so!

I would have bet money that my very closest friend at the time of my husband's death would stay my closest friend for life, but I would have lost that bet!  She and her husband had been a constant presence in the life of my family from the time we moved to Tennessee.  We met at church, saw each other almost every Sunday, shared many meals together, and enjoyed many activities together socially. They were there for me when John died and during the months that followed.  They helped me figure out what to do with lots of John's things and helped me handle some of the other details.  I will be forever grateful for their presence, help and love during that time.  Unfortunately, other circumstances caused us to part ways and they are no longer a part of my life. I miss them, but also completely understand that this is a part of moving on.

The good new is that other friendships have been forged.  I firmly believe the saying about how God brings friends into our lives for a time, a season, or a lifetime (I'm sure I didn't get that quite right). My "new" friends came from unexpected places and are not people I would have ever thought I'd be close to.  One is from my church, but I never knew her well before.  We ended up riding in the same car to a women's retreat the year after John died and found out that we really liked each other!  Another is a co-worker who is young enough to be my daughter, but we have much in common and enjoy hanging out together.  Yet another was the assistant to my dentist and I thought she was quite mean when I had a crown done.  Somehow we caught up with each other again and found out that we really like doing things together! All of these women are married or in a committed relationship, which I find rather curious since I'm now single!  They've become my "cheerleaders" and they rejoice with me when I make progress on getting my house cleaned out and put on the market.  They encourage me to try new things, change my wardrobe, and go on dates (few and far between).  They give me an ear when I need to talk or a shoulder when I need to cry. They have wonderful men in their lives who are willing to share them with me for lunch, dinner, a shopping trip, or a night out. Thanks guys!

These aren't my only friends, but are the ones I spend the most time with. There are many others and I am blessed to have each and every one of them. I truly understand how important girlfriends are.  When John was alive he wanted to be my best friend and do everything with me.  That was fine and we did lots of things together, but the girlfriend element was missing.  I'm so glad I've found it now. God's timing is always perfect and I've learned to believe that completely over the past two years.

So, my piece of advice for today is to be open to change and let God lead you.  Keep your eyes on Him and listen with an open mind and an open heart.  You'll be amazed at who He brings into your life and what He shows you.

Thanks for taking this journey with me....more to come...

My mother, my friend

Mom...a word that means many things and stirs all kinds of emotions.  For me, they are good emotions, but I know others may have issues with their mothers and not get the warm fuzzies like I do.  For those, I am truly sorry.

  My mom has always been there for me and the death of my husband was no exception. Although she is over 80 and doesn't like to go far from home anymore, she agreed to make the trip from upstate New York to Tennessee to be there for me during the first two weeks of my widowhood.  It took carefully laid plans to make it happen because she refused to fly! My niece drove her into Virginia where my oldest son and a friend of mine picked her up and brought her to Nashville.  It was a two day ordeal, but she made it safely.

 Mom is a widow herself.  My step-father passed away in 1989, so she has lots of experience at this.  She was incredibly helpful at remembering things I needed to do....like ordering flowers for the funeral! This hadn't even entered my mind and it was almost too late when she thought of it.  So, a quick trip to the local florist and that was taken care of - whew!  She went with me to the social security office where we waited endless hours in a stuffy, ugly waiting area populated by all kinds of interesting people. As we sat there I remembered that I had gone with my mom to her social security office when my step-father had died.  Funny how it all comes back around.

Mom and I like to put jigsaw puzzles together, so we hauled out the puzzles and laid one out to work on.  This was incredible therapy.  While we focused on the puzzle we talked about our marriages, the deaths of our husbands, family matters, and life in general. The healing was starting.  When I got tired of the puzzle I would write some thank you notes, asking her advice about what to say.  She offered to help write them, but I felt it was my responsibility.

  She made sure I ate at regular intervals and we did a little shopping.  One trip was to the mall to get her ears re-pierced because she had let the holes grow together many years before.  While we were there I decided to have my ears re-done too because my holes were crooked. It was a wonderful shared experience that was completely spontaneous.

Both of my sons live with me, so they also got to spend some quality time with their grandmother, but her main focus was on me.  She was quite subtle about it, but as I look back I can see that she was never far from me and always looking for something that needed to be handled.  Even if we were just sitting in the same room reading books, her presence was an incredible comfort.

So, here's my piece of advice for today.....make sure you have a friend or family member who can be there for you, remind you of things that need to be done, and go to appointments with you.  They will remember things that you will forget, and they will prop you up when you want to fall down.

Thanks for taking this journey with me.  More to come......

And, So It Begins.......

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...