Could You Open My Jar of Pickles, Please?
Last summer I found the perfect sale item in Hobby Lobby—a Ride the Wave sign—something I began to say regularly after becoming a widow, summer 2014. My story is not similar to most, but that’s for another time. I picture myself riding the waves, on a surfboard, although I don’t and have never surfed—it’s not popular in Iowa, Michigan, Texas or Colorado, places I’ve lived. I’ve always loved the water, though, often putting the surf emoji in text messages. Some days bring tsunami waves while other days bring gentle waves. Some days the water is so calm and still that you wish time would linger peacefully like this every day. We can’t imagine the life of a widow until we are wearing those shoes. Now that we are here, we suddenly “get it” as Paisley widows often say when together. Many days are just plain hard! Tears flow and you think you’re crazy. Tears flow because you’re so exasperated and overwhelmed with life’s demands. Tears flow because you see couples and you know that is no longer your reality. Tears flow when a certain song or memory brings you back to B.D. (Before Death) What do you do? What are you doing? You are riding the wave! You are riding the waves as best you can and that is sufficient for that moment. Your new company, often, is silence. Where is your companion? Where are those tender precious moments? What about those times of hurt when mad prevailed and you were waiting to apologize or to receive an apology? What about those times of celebration? What about those times of travel, of movies, of late-night talks and star gazing? What about those times of embracing and loving and falling asleep as one? What about those times of whimsy and being so free when you first fell in love? What about those times of knowing you’d grow old together?
I know. You know. We know. Maybe that’s why my visual is a surfboard because I’m alone riding the waves now. It can seem difficult to find joy and thanksgiving when your love’s life is extinguished, and yet that is the flower that presses out of the rock, triumphant and sturdy. You are that flower. I am that flower.
We are that flower. We press onward. We face challenges as they come—sometimes solo—sometimes with help, and that is sufficient for the moment. Give yourself permission to play the “Widow “card like when I could not open that jar of pickles. After crying, I dried my eyes and then drove around my apartment complex to find a maintenance man. I explained as he looked quizzically, “I’m a widow and I cannot open my jar of pickles. Could you open my jar of pickles, please?” And so he did. And I was so grateful. I created this “Widow” card just for this reflection piece. I did not coin this phrase. Karyl, Paisley’s founder did, and it’s brilliant.
The Widow Card
Ride your waves. Play that Widow Card, and remember we are here for each other, and that is sufficient for the moment.
Much love, and from the heart,
Diane.