The grieving widower - an explanation to our friends and family

[dutchhook]

You’re probably saying, there’s no way someone can link pregnancy with mangos and bananas. When you’ve been a caregiver for awhile, a single parent and a survivor, you can do damn near anything, so here goes, you can tell me if I pulled it off or not!

When women are pregnant, they “know” at least in real life. On TV, there’s the show “I had a Baby and didn’t know I was pregnant on the Womens network, or in movies, there’s the beautiful single person, throwing up at 9 am at work and the best friend, interrogating her with the know it all look of “YOU ARE PREGNANT, AREN’T YOU?” The heroine of the story usually denying the obvious.

Well, in a way, I’m pregnant too. I feel myself changing every day. I “feel” a change in a thousand different ways. When I walked out of the hospital, knowing Teri was going into the hospice, I remember feeling like I was floating outside of my body and felt changed. When she passed and I was speeding back to the hospice, I felt changed. Everything is different, the tv, my sleep is bad, my knees feel weak every once in awhile,(aren’t I supposed to cause that, not get it, what a wimp!) and my work production is inferior in every way My time at home is different, even driving is different. This must be the same for pregnant women, once they know too. Just like I asked Teri how she felt when she was pregnant, there was no way she could tell me what she was feeling. My personality is changing, and I can’t tell if it’s for good or ill.

I’m going to my first widowers group tomorrow night, excuse my poor attempt at humor, but what would the twelve steps of a widowers group look like

Steps 1-11 Please don’t die, I love you more than life itself. please PLEASE don’t go away honey

Step 12 – Oh (*&^@

I mean there’s only so much the volunteers can do after a loss. I needed the miracle two months ago, but as survivors, we’ll take any miracles we can get these days, so THANK YOU to the volunteers who manage these groups, but we tend to have a sick (or practical) sense of humor.

I feel sorry for people who come up to me to ask how I’m doing. I think widow(er)s should be rated like fruit. Green, ripe, or bruised all to hell, stay away. I should put a sandwich board with my ripeness rating so people know what they’re getting into, can avoid my eyes, or cross to the other side of the sidewalk!

Even tonight, it changed dramatically. I was at the store, everything ok, then I came home, talked to Paul and he said that Teri was making mistakes as early as August 15th. My God, tears starting, I thought she only got bad after the leg surgery September 23rd, how could a loving husband not see the distress? Absolutely Unforgiveable.

So, back to pregnancy. I feel like that pregnant woman, knowing my body, mind and soul are changing every day, sometimes every minute. I can’t explain the changes and I don’t know if they are good or bad, but like a pregnancy, I’m just along for the ride. On the plus side, (ha ha – that’s a womens clothing joke) I’d like to announce that now that I’ve announced I’m pregnant, I’d like to say that my bulging waistline has really been a cute baby bump since 1985, way before it was fashionable!

As for warning you, my friends, some days I feel like a green banana, sour and hard, other days, ripe, sweet and oh so good, and nights like tonight, bruised and beat to heck with the new knowledge that I might have missed some of Teri’s distress.

Where does the Mango fit in? Well, a banana shows it’s bruises pretty quickly. You get advanced notice of what you’re getting. THat tricky Mango? One can be solid green and soft, and another can be beautiful orange and hard and there’s just this tiny time frame of when that Mango gives 3/16″ of an inch when it’s perfect. So when you come upon a widow(er), like a mango, you won’t be able to tell if they are going to be hard and tasteless, or turn to mush like an overripe mango, but know this.

It turns out that me dumping on you, my friends, is good for my mental health, even though it scars you for life. It’s all about me! If my mental health improves, my psychiatrist will be looking for more patients, and those I’ve depressed can get an 8% discount!

I think I’m kind of over most of the bruising (in public), but if I squish, sorry, I’m pregnant, but I don’t know if I’m a mango or a banana.

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