Me , Myself and I

On: Independence

How do I describe the strange feeling of being instantly and unexpectedly independent? It is like a helium balloon becoming untethered from a child’s small arm. One minute you are anchored to another individual and the next you are floating around saying; “What happened? How could you let this happen to me?” And off you go, floating around all by yourself. (Don’t worry, I know that I am not alone as indicated in my previous blog post, but no one else can help me redefine my roles in life.)

Here are two roles that I play and that have been weighing on me lately. They are the big ones. 

Wife

I have been a wife for more than half of my adult life. It has been a safe life. One that included someone who would back me up, who was my safety net, friend, lover, and confidant. This is the same someone I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with. And now, the man who was always at my side is no longer. At least in physical form. This leaves me having to make decisions and choices that on the surface may seem so simple, but are actually not. 

For one, I don’t know how to sign cards. Instead of singing “Sam & Scott,” I have resorted to “ Sam & the Gang.”  Otherwise it feels so singular.  I had to change the answering machine at the house to take his name off, because I don’t want people thinking he lives here anymore, in the event that they haven’t heard the news. I have to bring his Death Certificate with me everywhere I go- “just in case.” His name no longer holds any weight on legal documents and they are mine and mine alone. All of these little things add up on a daily basis as reminders that I am no longer a spouse, but independent.I know I will always be his wife, but a wife without a spouse is actually a widow. And that sucks! 

And that brings me to my wedding ring. This is a ring that I never took off. Not to wash the dishes, take a shower, or sleep. In fact, I think it has been several years since I even tried to get it off my finger. Recently, however, it was getting pretty tight. Apparently gaining weight and getting older causes the knuckles to expand a bit. I actually started to freak out about it a little because I wanted to be able to take it off. I definitely didn’t want to wait until it had to be cut off. So, after much consternation about the act of taking said ring off my finger, I stuck my finger in a glass of ice, then sprayed my finger with Windex. It took a bit of doing, but I got it off. And now, I know I cannot get it back on. Not on either hand. It feels like betrayal on some levels, but I wanted to make sure I could save it just as it was given to me. I may have it resized down the road so I can wear it on my right hand. I may just leave it in a safe place until I am ready to break it back out and reimagine what role it will play in my life or in someone else’s in the family. So that finger is not bre, I have moved another of my special rings to this finger. The indent left is a sad reminder that I don’t like to look at either. 

Parent 

Thank goodness I am not a single parent of young children. But, being a parent of grown children isn’t always easy either. They have bigger problems and need more support, because they know exactly what is going on in life. They are aware when I am falling apart and I find myself guarding them against worrying about me. I know they do worry and I cannot always keep up appearances and that is ok. 

However, when I want to talk about how to help them and support their needs, I am forced to look in the mirror…. No one to discuss things with while sitting on the porch, or at the dinner table. Of course, I have family and friends that I can call, but again, this is personal stuff that makes it my business/our business. As parents, Scott and I made it our mission to be a united front when it came to raising the children. Now he is no longer here. My tag-team partner is absent which is too bad because it was something we did pretty well.  We knew who could handle what, depending on the kid or the circumstance. UGH!

Worst of all, I don’t have my Christmas shopping buddy! Every year, we would take one day to shop and eat and laugh. We would do it all in one day and then complain that we had to wrap the presents on Christmas Eve again. I guess I am on my own with that one too. And I don’t have anyone to get up with me and have a Bloody Mary before the kids come over. 

Individual

In summary, this past week was the usual roller coaster of emotions and I am not expecting anything less in the next few holiday weeks. I will survive though and will take each day’s challenges as they come, not get overwhelmed, and continue to pull myself up by my independent boot straps. After all, I am now a solo act. That’s just the way it is.