In last week’s post, I shared that October First marked my Second Blogaversary here at Widow’s Voice. There are seven of us bloggers in this space, one for each day of the week, walking the Widowed Path sharing our unique widowed worlds, facing our challenges complete with high points and the lows. Although the circumstances that brought us here were unwelcome and filled with sorrow, and pain, it is an honor to have been chosen to have a voice here each week and I thank those who take the time to read our posts.
There are some weeks when I don’t know what to write about and other times when it is so clear. Last Saturday marked what would’ve been the 28th anniversary my marriage to Rich. A toast was made in his honor and I know many recalled that beautiful fall day on a river at the New Jersey Shore when everything was new and hopeful.
In February of this year, my mom passed peacefully in New York, while I was literally enroute to say farewell to her. Today, October 5th would’ve marked her 98th birthday. It is hard to believe that this is the first occasion that I won’t get to call or see her on her special day. My dad passed in April 2023 and there is a void now. My parents and Rich were a vital part of my life and with each loss, grief compounds.
I keep a photo of my parents in my home in which they are happy and smiling. I often toast them with a little bourbon or whiskey or wine to celebrate moments like these. And of course I talk to them and I believe they are cheering me on with their steadfast encouragement from afar.
In the immediate wake of my widowhood, I was ensconced in the management of their care. It was all-encompassing and in some ways delayed my own mourning. When my mom passed 7 months ago, I knew my world would be changed forever.
She was smart, sassy and classy, a woman ahead of her time. Before her stroke of last November, she called and checked on me every evening around 6:00pm. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, I always took her call because like the lyrics of that popular Cody Johnson song advises, “So take that phone call from your momma and just talk away. ‘Cause you’ll never know how bad you wanna ’til you can’t someday.”
I know it’s been a difficult time for those in the storm torn regions of the South. As someone who lived through the ravaged wake of Hurricane Sandy, I know what it’s like to have meteorologists roaming your streets reporting to a world that can’t grasp the reality of the scope of the situation. Then, Rich and I housed our neighbors in what came to be known as Kamp Kruysman, powering homes with our generator for several weeks, feeding the weary, storing their valuables and offering a raft until they could figure out their next steps. I recall many acts of kindness and how our community came together to rebuild and restore. It is hard to know how to help from a distance. I prefer to donate and contribute to the organizations I believe will do the most good. Do your research and help – there is no “small” measure, or effort, in anything you do. Remember their beloved pets, too. For many, they are regarded as treasured family members.
This Saturday, as well, my niece Roxy will marry her fiance, Kalani in Oahu. I’m sure my mom and dad will be smiling down and I wish them much happiness.
Stay safe. Stay strong and please wish my mom, Cindy, a Happy Birthday. She would love that.
