For almost eight years my life had been focused on caring for O. J. through his continuing strokes and TIAs,heart attacks, cancer, and dementia. His last two months were spent in a medical unit at Tuscaloosa Veteran's Administration Medical Center. Grief had overwhelmed me for weeks before his passing. We had talked of when this time would come, over the years of his illness and he was determined that I would resume a normal life as soon as possible after his passing. He had little respect for those who hung on to grief for months and years and often said it was not so much sadness for the one gone as self pity for the one left behind.
Working through the steps of grief through sadness, confusion, and anger came easier for me since I had faced them with him as he dealt with his own feelings. Nights of crying became less as days were filled with the many legal and fiscal obligations of death and the decisions for assuming the role of single head of household.
I taught my ladies's Sunday School class the day after the funeral for the first time in three years. I invited friends over for dinner immediately and we shared memories, laughs and tears over the table we'd shared so many times before.
I wrote long personal thank you notes for flowers, food, and other kindnesses during the funeral days. If tears came I let them flow without apology and kept Kleenex handy. I took time to visit those who had been widows far longer and gained from their wisdom.
No one had told me that a reverse "nesting instinct" was often part of the process of finding who I now was and the direction my life should go. Old clothes were sorted and given away. Painting and other repairs long delayed were completed. I volunteered as a Hospice helper and took the training for visiting and helping families dreading a member's passing. I sat with clients as they dictated funeral desires and plans for those who families refused to talk of such things. I took casseroles to families who work schedules made cooking a depensible chosre. People called me to accompany them to funeral homes for moral support as they bought a funeral.
I lost 25 pounds in 3 months without trying. The lump in my throat made eating difficult and soon I was eating less. Walking, working out flower beds and Hospice work made me more physically active and helped me sleep at night. Writing out my feelings and putting the writings aside gave me release and kept me from exploding over those in my path.
By August I was ready to go back to school. Although I had three degrees in professional areas, I wanted to develop skills in a different direction. A local community college offered low tuition for seniors and a full menu of subjects for retirees. I signed up for credit courses, noncredit ones, and all the free self help classes available. It was fun back in the classroom again pn the student side of the desk. Nineteen years olds were helpful and professors were patient. I loved it.
