Maybe I’ve been worried because my brain (which, of course, has NEVER LED ME WRONG) says  I need to be worrying.

(why did it switch to italics? Dunno, but it’s pretty so it will stay that way.)

A couple of friends pointed out I was (essentially, they used kinder words) being stupid, and upon reflection it was determined (by me) that they are right.

The simple truth is, for all it’s upheaval, life’s not too bad. There’s a roof, food, a car, a bit of income quite adequate for our needs, and a cruise (bought back before Himself did his thing) upcoming in a little less than a month.

That’s right. A cruise. Nothing fancy like 3 weeks on a private yacht checking out the coast of South America, or floating up the Volga River, but fancy enough, with guys named Carl wearing shorts and delivering beverages featuring rum and tiny umbrellas. Plenty fancy since all we (that’s right, 2 of us middle aged women and a pair of teenaged girls, not sure what we’re going to do with them) really need is the rum and someone to make the beds. And room service with pastries first thing in the morning.  you know, the standard cruise stuff. This is a much anticipated affair, kind of a way to gird my loins for the holidays, which I can’t decide if I am looking forward to or dreading.

Thing of it is, it is almost as if…(almost? Try completely) everything (all things considered) is Just Fine. Which it is. I read an article recently on how people manage being a widow, the different ways of coping. All this time I felt a bit like something was wrong because it wasn’t debilitating.  Aren’t I supposed to be grieving, like with deep depression and huddling under the covers or something? But it wasn’t MY life that ended! I lost something incredibly precious, my favorite person, He With Whom I Shared My Life, but I wasn’t the one who left the Earth in favor of something better. I’m still here, still living and breathing and still looking at (potentially) another 50 years (give or take). There’s things that need doing and one of the things that frustrated Himself was the way I had to get ALL the things DONE before having some fun, and I’m too busy getting ALL the things DONE to have time for despair.

Lord knows the world throws ALL the things at you…death is about the most inconvenient thing (even more than having a baby because at least you usually have some time to prepare for that) I have ever experienced. On top of ALL the things, you’re dealing with losing the one person who helped with the things and I had to figure it ALL out.

Which led to much anxiety and whining to a degree that the people who know me best finally said “stop it…” Not to the missing of Himself, they know better, but to the whining about things which I had no need to whine about. They were right to do that, and I appreciate their candor, because it’s easy to miss it when you’re doing it, even when it’s something you’d point out to them if they were doing it.

So. Sitting back and evaluating all of it, the immediate concerns, the concerns for the future, and the  plans in place to deal with those concerns…things are going well and for that I am immensely thankful to God for setting us in a place/time/circumstance that has the best possible outcome for a very difficult situation.  My life hasn’t ended, nor will it stagnate. It’s just taking a different direction from what was planned. It’s going to be OK



About rootietoot

I do what I can.
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5 Responses to

  1. jerseechik says:


  2. Judy says:

    I, for one, am certainly glad you aren’t huddled under the covers weeping into your blankies because I never did either. I thought something was incredibly wrong with me. Why wasn’t I prostrate on the floor? In fact, one of my neighbors said, “I can’t believe how calm you are. I would be screaming and sobbing with grief.” Didn’t she realize that I had a funeral to arrange and stuff to get ready to give to his kids? Things had to be done and I was the one who had to do it.
    Then, it just progressed from there. Sure I cried, but not when anyone was around. I still have a memory that leaks out of my eyes and rolls down my cheeks.

    You cannot ever know how very much reading your blog for these last few months has helped me enormously. I’m not the only one who didn’t build a shrine out of his ashes and lights a candle every morning and kisses the urn and says goodnight every night. (I have read of some widows who do that–seven years later!) I’m not the only who didn’t collapse in grief

    So, thanks. You have 50 years left? Just think of the (pretty good) wonderful life you are going to have! Onward and Upward. Ever forward!

    • rootietoot says:

      Further in and further up! You’ve helped me as well. I really appreciate your pragmatism, because it makes mine feel less…something. The idea of lighting a candle and kissing his ashes every night makes me go 0_o…tho I do understand how it can be a way for someone else to cope…just not me.

  3. Ferree Hardy says:

    Oh I love your writing and your card-carrying National Sarcasm Society attitude! And I love that it comes from a heart who knows God and His ways and seeks to live for His glory. Can’t wait to read more, so that’s all I’m going to say right now.

  4. joannajenkins50 says:

    A cruise!!!???!!! What a great time you’ll have– Recharge your battery a bit and enjoy the rum!

    Sounds to me like you are doing a very good job of handling things and by “things” I mean A LOT of really hard stuff. I take my hat off to you, Rootie. I’m so thankful that you are doing okay and getting up and moving forward each day. That’s no small feat!.

    xo jj

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