The application asked for marital status. For the first time I had to check widow. Being a widow conjures thoughts of rickety crone hood, ancient and bent with time. I don't think I qualify yet for crone hood status, but the widow part is unstoppable.
My husband was fifty five years old when he died. After only nine years together, he up and died on me. His short illness and subsequent death remains like a whiplash to my being in which there is no cure.
Two short months was all it took. The frenzied parade of doctor visits, tests, and hospital stays were relentless. Little did we know the game was over before it even began? Many say that it is a blessing that the cancer took his life so quickly. True that, but there wasn't a soul that prepared me for the inevitable.
For those that are left behind I've come up with a few tips and realities that may be helpful to you.
1. When the doctors say "Get your affairs in order", they mean it. Don't wait until your spouse or loved one feels up to it, do it now. While medical professionals cannot tell you exactly when death will occur, that phrase means that the grim reaper is sharpening his blade.
2. Funeral directors are expensive and obnoxious. Just when I'd stopped crying long enough to have a coherent thought, this man wanted to know what color of thank you notes I'd like. In my scattered brain, without even thinking, I told him, "Thank you cards for what? Just light the darn oven". He gently explained how they were traditionally used. I wish I could say that I apologized for my directness, but I did not and still wanted to slap the fraudulent look of sympathy off his larcenous face. If your loved one is to be embalmed then buried, just ask yourself how much does few gallons of ethanol, methanol, and formaldehyde cost? Better yet, just how much does a wooden kitchen match cost? The robber barons of yesteryear would switch professions in a heartbeat if they saw the monetary gain funeral directors enjoy.
3. Get plenty of copies of that darned death certificate. Your loved one has died, but neither a business nor government entity will believe you until you furnish the official sacred paper. If you're thinking ten or twelve copies, get twenty or twenty four. Once all have been satisfied, if there are copies left over, the colorful document can be recycled as wrapping paper or wall paper. Martha Stewart would be pleased.
4. Whatever arrangements for the funeral or wake have been made, you won't be able to please everyone. Please keep in mind that the only person's desire that matters is the loved one that died. If Uncle Pete wants to be buried in a dress, by God, put him in a dress! There are always plenty of complainers at wakes or funerals and the only person you can count on to keep their mouth shut is the one in the casket or urn.
5. Be prepared for the traditional platitudes that surround the death of a loved one. These tired expressions will work your last nerve. "I'm sorry for your loss" was the worst offender in my book. I didn't lose my husband; he's right up there on the mantel over the fireplace. Another is "If there is anything we can help with, please call us". Don't bother picking up the phone if your toilet is backing up, they aren't coming. For us, the survivors, if you don't mean it, don't say it. A simple "I'm sorry" is fine and probably more than we wanted to hear from you in the first place.
6. Death does weird things to your mind. The day after my husband's death, the most important item to me was mowing the four acres around the house, followed by a six-pack of beer while cloistered in my bedroom with the dog. His entire large family was staying at my home, but my solitude to get my mind right had the priority. Funny, by the time I reached the sixth beer, toasty warm, I knew I wasn't going to be right for a very long time. Looking back, I said and did things that were inappropriate but now realize its all part of the process. Calling the local minister an expletive was tops on the list (he refused to do the service as we were not official members of his church). My way of grieving indeed had quirks that were not the norm of conservative protocol. The minister eventually will get over my little faux pas, but I still refuse to join his little flock, even if it is a BYOB church.
7. It is normal to talk to dead people. For weeks I talked to my husband, he just wasn't paying attention as usual. However, there was one afternoon that the locked windows blew in. No wind, not even a breeze, but yet two windows came off their track and fell inward. I had been (lightly) cursing him for leaving, and that was his answer. As if to say, "Get over it". From that point on, the days and weeks went a bit better.
There's only one certainty in life and that's death. You're certainly never prepared for the reality of missing a loved one. Once they were there, now they're not. Experts have a plethora of pamphlets and books on coping with death. I have my little collection stacked neatly in my bedroom. Unfortunately, I didn't read any of them until recently. One particular pamphlet, while written in an over-the-top, cloyingly sympathetic way, did make sense to me now. Basically it said, death happens, you'll miss the person, and anything you do or say can't be held against you during your period of mourning. Amen to that.