Category Archives: Widowhood

Not as it seems… Part I

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Mom knew how to take the initiative, even as a little girl. Born in 1912, she was only four years old when on a stifling summer day her mother entertained several women from their church. Little Evelyn loved having company and had helped her mother prepare the parlor for their guests. When the women arrived, Evelyn was cordial, greeting each one with her best smile.

Knowing she enjoyed being mama’s helper, her mother asked if she’d like to bring a glass of cool water to each lady as they chatted together. Evelyn was delighted and hurried off to comply. Running back and forth to the parlor, she carefully delivered one glass of water to each appreciative woman.

After the guests had gone, Evelyn’s mother expressed gratitude for her willingness to bring so many glasses of water to the company.

“It was easy,” Evelyn said. “I just got them out of the toilet.”

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Things are not always as they seem. Those cool glasses of water wouldn’t have been quite so refreshing, had the truth been known. Just like the ladies in the parlor, all of us size up situations based only on what we see rather than waiting for all the facts.

As an example, quite a few people have assessed my living situation in Michigan to be an isolated, lonely arrangement unsuitable for a new widow. But the fact is, I’m living here as a result of God’s decision rather than my own.

My first experience with summers in Michigan came long before I met Nate. My parents, along with an aunt and uncle, purchased a small cottage only six blocks from the one I now live in, back in 1946. Mary, Tom and I, along with four cousins and countless pals, made memories in that little three bedroom house until we were bursting at the seams with seventeen children between us, several in-law children and the beginnings of grandchildren. It wasn’t difficult to decide we needed a second cottage!

Nate and I bought our current home ten years ago, continuing to enjoy the same childhood beaches and neighborhoods but adding more space (and especially beds) to the mix. Basing in Chicago, we wished we could spend more time in Michigan and had talked about retiring here one day, away from Chicago traffic, high taxes and the hurried lifestyle we’d always known.

Putting our Chicago area home on the market in 2004, when the real estate bubble was still rising, we hoped to sell quickly. But not many buyers were interested in a 100 year old farm house when new homes were being built on every street. A year passed, then two and three, without a sale. Although we did have several contracts, the economy was tanking, and potential buyers couldn’t secure financing.

Meanwhile Nate’s back began to flare up, and he found himself working less and less. In 2008, we decided to put the Michigan cottage on the market, too, eager to sell one house or the other, unsure of what his health future would be. The outcome would be in God’s hands, and we were willing to live in whichever house didn’t sell. (See Part II, tomorrow.)

”My steps have held to your paths [O Lord]. My feet have not slipped.” (Psalm 17:5)

Time and Time Again

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One of my favorite singers, Eydie Gorme, sang a song so thought-provoking that several years ago I wrote out the lyrics and filed them in a manila folder under “Time”, which was the name of her song.

She sang, “Back when I was young and summer was forever, ‘good’ was your first name.”

For most people, good times fill the youthful years, along with hope for a happy future. I love looking at this picture of Nate taken in early 1971, because seeing him there in our first apartment, dressed as he is, floods my mind with good-time-memories. I can even remember the tickle of his mustache when he kissed me. It seemed as if we were playing house while he finished law school and I taught first grade. Although we had very little in the way of possessions or money, we had priceless fun together. It was all good times.

And then the clock began moving, ticking even as we slept. Nate graduated, we moved, he became a lawyer, I became a stay-at-home mommy. The kids grew up, went to college, moved away and made us proud. We had weddings and then grandchildren. And in what seemed like a quick minute, time ended, at least for Nate. And my time as his wife ended, too.

Eydie sang, “Time, when did you begin trading your tomorrows for worn out just-todays?”

In mid-winter of this year, when I’d been a widow for three months, I remember sitting in a chair at twilight, my hands in my lap, doing absolutely nothing but listening to the tick-tock of a wall clock. Immobilized by sadness, I didn’t know what to do next. It seemed appropriate to just “be” and to listen to time slipping away. I was worn out by grief, and life had morphed into a series of “worn out just-todays.”

The wall clock is still ticking, but I’m feeling much better these days. Sitting in a chair doing nothing isn’t something I want anymore. I remember Mom saying, as a new widow, “Life will never be the same.” That statement seems obvious, but I think I know the deeper meaning of what she was trying to say: “Without my beloved, life will never be good again.”

I’m sure that thought floats through the mind of every new widow or widower who has had a satisfying marriage. It dominated my thinking for a long time, too. But I no longer agree with Mom on that. Although life can’t ever be the same again because Nate is gone, it can become good again. I know I’ll never stop wondering what today, tomorrow or next year would have been like had Nate remained with us, but today, tomorrow and next year can hold spectacular blessings and positive surprises. Three new grandbabies have already proven that.

Eydie sang, “Time, you rolled into years, years that left me walking, when you began to fly.”

Time is definitely flying, and I may be walking rather than running, but sometimes a long walk can turn out to be a really good time.

“The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong… but time and chance happen to them all.” (Eccl. 9:11)

Hidden Growth

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Today marks seven months since Nate has been gone, although it seems like only last week we were wrapped in the misery and pain of his pancreatic cancer. I know it’s been many months, however, because I see small signs of healing and growth. Although we may not have wanted it this way, our new lives without Nate are slowly, steadily taking shape.

Louisa and Birgitta spent time with me this week, working cheerfully and hard at whatever I asked. Together we attacked the yard, raking the ivy, picking up sticks, pulling weeds, sweeping the driveway, hanging window boxes, planting flowers, transplanting shoots, bringing house plants outdoors, putting sleds and snow shovels away, and laying down stepping stones. Until now, I’ve had no interest in projects like these, not even in cleaning. Life has been handled best at idle speed. The fact that all our yard work was satisfying is, I believe, a sign of healing for all three of us.

As I pass the front window and see our small pink impatiens peeking through the screen, I get a little lift. They will continue to grow throughout the summer, and we will do the same. There will be set-back days ahead as we come to Father’s Day, Nate’s birthday and the one year anniversary days of our cancer experience in the fall. But God will be on hand as he has been all along, nurturing our growth and guiding our progress.

Today as I walked around the yard surveying our improvements, I noticed something funny going on in a pile of logs sawed from a dead tree last fall. They are stacked together, awaiting the splitting wedge that will transform them into firewood, but one of them isn’t dead at all. It has actually begun growing again. The other logs, all cut from the same tree as the growing one, are completely lifeless.

Nothing happens by accident, and I decided to view those sprouts of new life as God’s encouragement for this day. Although Nate’s cancer brought death into our family, those of us who felt lifeless after he died are beginning to sense the stirrings of something new. Just as the log’s new growth looks different from the original tree trunk, so our lives will look different without Nate. But if we let them, they will continue to grow.

God has new plans, fresh ideas and an innovative strategy for all of us that we know nothing about yet. It took many months for new shoots to come from the “dead” log, and when the time is right, our new shoots will come forth, too. God is busy during these days laying the groundwork for that growth, and we’re all beginning to feel it.

”All the trees of the field will know that I, the Lord, … make the low tree grow tall. I … make the dry tree flourish. I the Lord have spoken, and I will do it.” (Ezekiel 17:24)