Monday, November 24, 2014

The Lonely Widow

The other day, I wrote this little short fiction story.  I say fiction, because not every detail is so.  But at the same time, every emotion and part is something I've experienced, or something I've heard for some other widows I've met. Though written in third person, it has been my experience.

The Lonely Widow
by Kelley Reuer

   She sat staring out the window of her living room.  Watching an occasional car go by, a neighbor or visitor to someone else's home.  She sighed wishing she had someone coming today to just stop in and say hi, but her driveway was empty, and would probably remain so all day long.  
   It had just been so hard since he died, hard for her to journey out beyond her realm of comfort of home.  Here in the house  she was surrounded by memories, memories of him.  Oh how she wished she could talk to him one more time.  She'd often walk into the den where he use to sit reading to tell him something, only to see his chair empty.  Several times she had the thought, now where is he at?  Then it would come flooding back to her, he was gone, oh how could this ever have happened?
   Widow, she hated that word, it reminded her of a spider, and she hated spiders. Several times while checking in at the doctors office or some other office, she'd been asked "marital status." The first time she said widow, she felt like someone had knocked the air out of her lungs. The next time it didn't come any easier, that time, she felt socked in the stomach.  The person  asking, didn't even know the trauma she was going through.  She had always thought the only people who were ever widows were older gray haired ladies in their late 80's, somehow she didn't see herself as fitting that category.
   It was so hard to leave the house at first, when she did venture out of the home on Sunday mornings, she put on her best face, and pretended she was doing great, cause truly she was sometimes.  She wasn't lying, there were days she was encouraged, and felt life could be good and normal again.  But then she wondered what normal was anyway.  Isn't that just a setting on the dryer?  Nothing felt normal, nothing comfortable, except for her old slippers and bathrobe.  She looked down at the slippers and the hem of the bathrobe, and thought, It's late, I better get dressed, just in case I have a visitor today.
   Walking into her closet she again felt a tear flow down her cheek.  There they were, all his clothes, hanging silently in the closet never to be worn by him again.  She wished the boys would have taken a few more of them to keep as a remembrance of their father, but his western shirts just aren't their style.  That's ok, she thought, I know they hold the memories of their dad in more than just shirts.  She grabbed some clean clothes and got dressed, but before she left the walk-in closet, she leaned one more time into his shirts and just inhaled.  They still smelled like him, the scent she knew all so well.  She remembered the times when she disliked his scent, thinking why couldn't he keep cleaner.  "Oh what a fool I was," she thought to herself, I'd take him smelling like a manure pile just to have him back again. 
  Her thoughts flew to a conversation she had heard at church last week.  A couple of her friends complaining about this or that of their husbands, acting miffed at their lack of consideration to their needs.  She thought, 'What fools, don't they know what they have?!  They have a husband, I have none!"  She reminded herself, not to be too harsh on them though, cause she remembered days when she did the same. "No, I was the fool, I didn't appreciate what I had, until it was too late."  Was that really true?  Not really, she had always cherished him, and knew what a great guy he was and was so thankful to be his wife.  He often showered her with praise saying, "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, I got the cream of the crop, the pick of the litter when I got you."  She chuckled remembering her comeback was always "No, you got the runt of the litter, Dear."  He'd laugh, and hug her tucking her under his chin, where she fit so snugly.
    She often teased him saying, "my lack of height is all your fault."   To which he would reply, "I don't see how I had anything to do with it."  "Of course you did.  You prayed and asked God for a wife who'd fit under your chin, so God answered your prayer and not mine.  I prayed and asked God to be taller.  I guess he knew I was destined to be your wife."  She chuckled again, and looked towards heaven and said, "You know God, you could have made him taller."  She swore she saw a smile on God's face, and she was ok with that, God made me just right, just like that saying goes, "It takes a long time to grow to perfection, but short people get there quicker."  
     She found 'her' chair and sat down and covered up with a snugly blanket to read.  She had a stock pile of books and of course her Bible.  What she really enjoyed lately, was reading though his Bible, oh of course the Words were the same as hers, but she loved reading his little notes here and there, she felt like she was reading his heart.  Often she'd turn to Proverbs 18:22 "He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favor of the LORD."   She loved seeing his little smile face and her name by that scripture.  She had often remarked to him when he drew attention to that scripture, "Why does God call me a 'thing?' I'm not sure I like being called a thing."  He'd always reply, "Well, you're the best thing that ever happened to me" with his silly cowboyish smile. 
   Oh the memories of him were flooding her now, suddenly she was pulled out of her memory daydream by the dog licking her hand.  "Hey, old boy, you need to go outside?  Ok, come on, lets go."  She walked the dog to the door, and opened it for him, and he ran outside to do his job.  She'd been so irritated at that old dog, but at the same time she couldn't let him go.  He'd been 'his' dog, and letting go of him, would be kind of like him dying all over again.  She sighed as she looked around her house, and the trail of dog hair everywhere.  Gonna have to vacuum  again today, it was a daily occurrence with this hair dropping dog.  There were days, when she was so thankful to have the old boy still, like when he came up and snuggle his head into her lap when she sat crying missing her man so much.  He was at least a good companion of sorts, and I guess it's not too bad being needed by someone or something, even it's only to be let out to go potty or fill his food dishes. 
    Needed, that's what she struggled with.  Was she still needed?  The kids were gone now, and so was he.  He had needed her so much in his dying days, he relied on her for everything, to help feed him, to bath him, to dress him, to make sure he was safe.  It was constant tiresome work, and it had taken a toll on her too, not only physically but emotionally.    She was broken, as she watched him slip away.  Her heart was being torn by an unseen force and she couldn't stop it no matter how much she prayed for it to stop.  How she had poured her heart out in prayer during that time, many times, late into the night.  The heavens seemed barred, and answers did not come.  Even though, things didn't turn out the way she had hoped, she knew God was still there, holding her in his arms.  It's not like she had any physical evidence of it, but she just knew inside, He was still there.  Sometimes though she sure wish God would show up with 'skin on' and let her know He still cared.  
    Several times since he died, God had showed up with 'skin on' as a friend who she hadn't heard from in years, had called just to tell her she was thinking of her and praying for her, or a kind note had arrived in the mail.  All of these she cherished and knew it was God's way of saying he still loved her, but it didn't stop the loneliness.  Strange how you can even be in a crowd of people and still feel lonely, still feel useless.  
     "I've got to find purpose," she  told her self, over and over, maybe there's something I can do today to encourage someone else.  What though?... She sat thinking and praying for sometime, nothing came at that moment, so she got up and went to the door, and let the dog back in the house.   "Come on old boy," the dog dashed into the house, glad to escape the cold of the chilly winter weather.  She filled his water dish, and replenished the food bowl.  "There, that should make you happy for a while."  She petted his head, and gave a good scratch behind the ears.
     She went back to her chair and curled up reading for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally stopping to pray for someone that came to mind, or let the dog out again. At last she looked up from her book and noticed it was growing dark.  How did that happen she thought?  "I've been here all afternoon reading?! Oh my, I think I forgot to even eat!"  She got up and rummaged through the fridge to find a few left overs and warmed them up, sitting at the table all alone.  Cooking for herself she found uninviting, but she didn't like eating out alone either.  Occasionally she'd cook a meal, then keep eating the left overs all week.  Oh, how she hated eating alone.  Life just wasn't suppose to be like this.  She had dreamed of them growing old together, sitting together on the porch reminiscing of the 'old days', but now she sat alone.  
     After eating, she cleaned up her plate, and went back into the living room, and stood at the window watching the last few rays of sunlight as it set on the horizon.  She sighed again, and thanked the Lord for the beautiful sunset.  She remembered her favorite verse, Psalms 113:3, "From the rising of the sun to the going down of the same the name of the Lord is to be praised." She knelt down by her chair and lifted her hands in worship, and sang a few simple worship songs to the Lord.  She stopped, and just listened, it was so quiet in the house.  Even the cats purr was hardly noticeable.  "Be Still and Know that I am the Lord," was ringing in her ears.  A silent tear rolled down her cheek as she began to hum that simple song sung on their wedding day.  
    After some time of sitting in the silence, she got up and started walking to the bed room, 'might as well go to bed early tonight' she thought.  She saw her cell phone laying on the coffee table, and picked it up.  She thought for a moment, it would be so nice to talk to someone, but I don't want to be a bother, I know I'll start crying again.  I'm sure my friends are tired of my tears, they all have their families and husbands to take care of,  I know they said 'call any time' but I'm not sure they really meant it.  She put the phone back on the charger, though it hardly needed it today, as it hadn't been used at all.  
     She looked back into the living room and decided to vacuum up all that dog hair before heading to bed.  She straightened a few things up and looked around her silent house, well, there's not anyone but me to see it anyway, so she headed to the bedroom.
    As  she slipped her jammie pants and shirt on, she thought back on a conversation with a friend recently.  Her friend had never married, and was that strong independent business woman type.  She made a passing comment  "What's the big deal, I've been alone my whole life, and I like it.  You'll get use to it, eventually you'll love it, no one to tell you what to do. " As she pulled her toothbrush out of the holder she wondered if that would be so.  The point is, she'd never been alone. She went straight from high school into college with a roommate, then into a marriage.  They'd always been together, and she liked that.  She liked being at home, raising the kids, and really had no desire to be in that corporate world that her friend so loved.  That doesn't mean I'm not as smart as her, but my priorities have just been different.  But now with her funds dwindling, she knew that whether she liked it or not, she'd have to find some job out there in the dog eat dog work world. She was scared beyond words, and didn't know how to tell anyone that.  She was a grown adult, what could be so scary about getting a job?  It was like a foreign country to her though, she shuddered, and sent up a quick prayer, "Lord, you're gonna have to help me."  
    As she put her toothbrush back into the holder, and headed for the bed, she pulled back the covers on her side of the bed.  She looked over at his pillow, she couldn't hardly get herself to ever lay on 'his' side of the bed.  It was just too painful right now.  She propped up the pillows along the head board and grabbed the book she had been reading all afternoon.  Maybe I can get it done before I fall asleep.  
    Time passed and she closed the book, and glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser, almost midnight, she was shocked, where did the time go?  She rearranged her pillows and snuggled down in the covers, but just because her head was on the pillow, didn't mean sleep would come easy.  It wasn't long before her pillow was wet with the tears that slid down her face. 
     "Lord, I know you said you'd never leave me, but I'm so lonely. When will this ache leave? When will I find my purpose?  When will this hurt go away?" she quietly prayed.  Eventually her tears faded into the land of sleep and dreams.
  She dreamed she was walking down a road, but this time, she was walking all alone.  The road seems long, and empty, and desolate.  She continued walking, walking, walking, then she noticed there was someone walking beside her.  She hadn't noticed him at first because she was looking down while walking.  When she turned to see who it was walking beside her, she saw that it was the Lord, though she had never seen his face before, she recognized him instantly. She stopped walking and knelt down at his feet, and whispered his name, "Jesus."  He gently touched her head, and then reached down and took her hand and lifted her up. 
"My daughter arise, and let me continue to walk with you."  As she arose, she looked into his eyes and saw love like she'd never seen before.  "Continue? My Lord?"  she asked.  "Yes, my daughter, I've been with you ever step through this dark valley, and I will continue to walk with you ever step for the rest of your journey.  I take your hand now as your husband, your comfort, your provider, you have no need to fear the future, for I will always be there with you."  
   She took his hand and they walked on, continuing the long journey together, no longer was she lonely, but realizing she was walking with the one who loved her and the one whom she loved. 
  
   
     


    

Thursday, November 20, 2014

And God Gave Us the Dog

Quito and I at Todd's gravesite on Todd's birthday sharing a few tears and words of love.
There seems to be something that God put in dogs for them to sense when someone is hurting. I know there are dogs who can even tell when someone is about to seizure or blood sugar crash and these well trained dogs alert their masters.  Quito isn't a well trained dog for anything except maybe moving cattle, at which he was excellent at. Todd said he was the best cattle dog we had had so far.  There's no cows for Quito right now, and his life is pretty boring, but he does one thing that always surprise me.  Whenever I'm sad or hurting or crying, he comes and finds me, and lays his head on my lap.  How does he know?  Sometimes I just hug that stinky old dog, and cry into his smelly fur.  He still smells and stinks like dogs do, and has bad breath, and leaves hair all over my house, but he often knows more that any human around, and offers what others don't, a comfort of a those big brown eyes looking at me saying, "what's wrong? can I help you?"  He just lets me cry.  He doesn't fix anything, for somethings can't be fixed, but he's there for me.  

Friday, November 14, 2014

My Last Kiss and The Gift to You


I don't have a picture of the last kiss, so I thought I'd have one of the 'early' kisses. 

    The movie world, would like us to believe, that the most important 'kiss' between a man and  a woman is their first kiss.  When the flame first gets lit.  I beg to differ with that thinking.  I have come to realize it's not the first kiss, but your last kiss that says more of the love you have. At least that's how it was with Todd and I.
    It was the weekend before he died, and Kristi and I were up in Tioga seeing him.  It was always hard.  Hard to see him like that.  Every time we went, more of him was gone, every time  I saw him I went through a shock.  Even though I knew how bad he was getting, each time it shocked me.  Todd wasn't walking well, and needed assistance or a wheel chair.  When we visited, we would take him to one of the 'family rooms' they had in the nursing home, so we could all be together.  I'd sit and sing to him, or read him scriptures, sometimes I'd read him what I'd written in the "Adventures of Todd and Kelley."  He'd often fall asleep in the recliner, and Kristi and I would read or write, and wait for him to wake up again.  On that Saturday, he had just woke up from a nap, and wanted to walk around the room.  I was assisting him, to make sure he didn't fall.  He walked over to the little 'kitchen' area of the room where there was some cupboards and a sink, and he started opening the cupboard doors.  I told him, I don't think we should get into their cupboards, and pointed out some things on the counter that might be ok for him to 'play' with.  This is the area of the nursing home, where they stored a lot of their seasonal decorations.  Todd started pushing me a little bit, and it made me a little nervous, cause I wasn't sure what he was wanting.  He got me pushed into the corner, and then he bent down (remember I'm quite a bit shorter then he was) and kissed me.  I melted, and just held him close.  The man who sometimes forgot I was even his wife, and couldn't remember my name anymore, still knew that he loved me and that I was special to him.  I told him again, how much I loved him.  
   Kristi and I were talking about this the other day and she says she remembers it well, as she was sitting in the room with us and watching it all transpire.  Her dad one last time, kissing her mom.  
   I know I kissed him good bye on Sunday before we left, but that kiss doesn't hold my heart like when he reached out to me.  I guess unless you've dealt personally with someone with dementia you probably don't understand what it means to have them reach out to you.  When they recognize and actually remember for a moment who you are, it means the world.  
   I cherish the love I have for Todd and the love he had for me.  God knew what he was doing when he brought us together.  
   Miss you so much Todd.  

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This morning in honor of his birthday I wrote this little ditty.  I know my poetry isn't perfect, but it's still from the heart.

Gift to You

I can't give you a gift up in Heaven
You already have all that you need
For you are home with our Heavenly Father
Life eternal you have received.

 If I could pass through that heavenly veil
Just a moment to give you a gift
I'd send you a hug and kiss
And tell you how much you are missed

Happy Birthday in Heaven my dear
I love you so very much
I look forward to that day when we meet again
When I join you and our Savior we love.