Twenty-Five Things About Being a New Widow
(A.K.A. the World's Saddest Meme.) The ever-awesome Gina Hyams not only tagged me for this "random things" meme, but suggested this variation specifically for me.
- It's been over three weeks since my husband died. I watched him die. I kissed him goodbye. I buried him. And I still don't believe it.
- I really did not know that there was this much love in the world. It's like bouncing on a trampoline of love - every time I land, springy loving arms catch me and propel me up again.
- Grief is fucking exhausting.
- And yet it is really hard to sleep. Hellooooo Sominex!
- After Bill died, I couldn't eat and I could only drink Coke. Then the next week I lived on ham, caffeine, and sugar. I've branched out, but I still crave high fat, high salt, high sugar.
- I now understand the tradition of bringing people food when there's been a death in the family. It's because the bereaved can no longer feed themselves.
- I can thaw, I can put fork to mouth, but I cannot cook. Loading the dishwasher is dubious.
- Food tastes really, really good but I'm still losing weight -- go figure.
- The word "widow" is an ancient, ancient word that hasn't changed much since its proto-Indo-European origins.
- The word "widow" was scary at first, but now I kind of like it because it's so precise. But Facebook doesn't have "widow" as one of the relationship status options, and that's bothering me.
- The house refi application had three choices for marital status: Married, Separated, or Unmarried. First I swore. Then I checked Unmarried. Then I checked out for the rest of the day.
- I'm considering taking up booze as a hobby.
- Some days I can't answer emails, I can't make phone calls, but Twitter is always da bomb.
- Did I mention how amazing my friends are?
- There must be something appealing about being this sad and vulnerable. I say this because of the quality of male attention I'm getting, despite the black circles under my eyes and the tendency to break into tears.
- Then there's libido. Grief is supposed to affect your libido.
- I lost my husband, but I did not have an Ericka-ectomy in the process. There's no need to be so hushed and solumn with me; I still have my sense of humor.
- I have the best friends in the entire world.
- I had no idea how many people would be rooting for me and Annie and the rest of the family. Yowza, Universe, you are AMAZING.
- Sometimes I'm really annoyed at my husband for leaving me with all this bureaucracy and paperwork...
- ...Not to mention all his clothing and other stuff that I have to figure out what to do with, and when the right time to do something about it is. (Was that a grammatical sentence? I don't think so.) And what to keep.
- Getting in my body (i.e. through dance) is the best way to pure grief.
- Pure grief is as painful as physical torture. But if I make myself stay there, even for a little while, I feel so much better. Lighter. Able to breathe.
- New Widowhood changes every day.
- But this part doesn't change: It's like ripping off a Band-Aid, again and again and again.
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Jennifer Gibbons says:
Oh, Erika....
You and Annie have been in my thoughts the past weeks. And I'm irritated at Facebook on your behalf.
Jessica Barksdale Inclan says:
This seems like a good meme
This seems like a good meme to add on to as the days go by. What else will you learn and know?
Wonderful and hard and good to read.
xo
J
Jessica Barksdale Inclan
www.jessicabarksdaleinclan.com
Saill White says:
Oh, Ericka
That might be the most beautiful and practical portraits of grief I've ever read. It's frightening to be close to someone who's grieving. It's nice to know that some of the tiny things that we can do are actually of use. Everyone who knows someone who has lost someone should read this.
Sandra Ann Miller says:
Feeling the Band-Aid's Pull
The fact that you can write, reach out and tweet has kept me in awe. This is so unbelievable, wrong and raw...and so very real. Thanks, Ericka, for sharing you, and staying you. xo
Evelyn Sharenov says:
#12
not a good hobby; everything else seems in order
Rosy Cole says:
Ericka, I can so resonate
Ericka, I can so resonate with this meme. Thank you for having the courage to air it.
You're wise to go with the grief. Take a minute, an hour, a day at a time. You'll know when the time is right for the clearing-out ritual. And it is an essential ritual, to enable you to embrace Bill in a new way. It's also natural to feel resentful that your life's partner has inconsiderately forsaken you while feeling,at the same time, overcome by the vulnerability of his existence when he deserved to have a long, happy and rewarding future.
I don't know why it should be that when we step into our bodies - you mention dancing - it makes the grief worse. Perhaps it's where the phrase 'being beside one's self' comes from. Nature supplies a kind of anaesthetic to help us get through. But you're a writer and that's a godsend. It's a wonderful facility for helping you work through grief and tame it.
That point about food, too, tasting so good,I remember that. I had an absurd yen for white chocolate ice-cream. It was just as bad as craving cornflakes and kale and bananas in the middle of the night during pregnancy!
Bereavement is a cleansing experience. The desert will bloom in due season. Whatever the future holds, you will breathe and dance and write and love again and find inspiration to live the life that is Ericka's gift to the world.
You and Annie are much in my thoughts,
Love and God Bless,
Rosy
Kristina Riggle says:
Oh Ericka
Thanks for saying that about not having had an Ericka-ectomy.
Remember the other day when you reassured me over a negative comment about my book? Honestly I felt like such an ass for whining about it. I mean, REALLY. But as you said, you're still you, and you are kind, even now, even to those of us who have silly problems (like a burgeoning cold, and I will go get my vitamin C and zinc.)
Katie Burke says:
lovely meme
Ericka, you are a wonderful one. I'm in awe of how deftly you lean into, and articulate, those torturous feelings. May you continue to feel all the love your heart can hold. Joy will come in time.
Katie Burke
Constantin Severin says:
Lutz family
Hi Ericka!
My ancestors of my mother's family belonged to an old German family, called also Lutz...I was very impressed by the exact and very sincere analysis of your soul in a delicate moment.
I wish you all the best,
Constantin
Evie Shockley says:
window on widow
Thanks for opening this moment to your readers, Ericka. I especially appreciate that you describe the unexpected good things as well as the anticipated (and unpredictable) bad things. I always felt grateful to my friends who became mothers who would step outside the prescribed narrative about how fabulous and creative and blissful and rewarding pregnancy and motherhood are (which is true, I'm sure) and *also* talk about what was annoying and painful and exhausting and frustrating (also true, at least for them).
Thank goodness for having a sense of humor in moments of despair! It's a saving grace (without some of the downsides of alcohol).
: )
Ericka Lutz says:
Just FYI everybody...
For those concerned about #12, I don't drink! I've had a total of two shots of brandy and two glasses of wine in the last month, so no worries there... Constantin -- we're probably not related -- I'm a Lutz shortened from Lutzky -- Eastern European Jewish, not German. Yes, humor is all. Got me through labor, will get me through this. xo, the Widow-Diva Lutz
Teresa Burns Gunther says:
thanks for that.
powerful. keep dancing
Susan K Ito says:
so real, so painful, so beautiful
Dearest Ericka,
I don't know if this will make any sense but I feel as if this experience has made you even MORE Ericka than ever - it's so authentic, so stripped-away. Not to say that you were ever Inauthentic, but I really feel like you are so ever-present in every moment of pain, unexpected joy, fury, loss. You are keeping it real all the time, and experiencing it ALL so fully. And I feel awed and privileged to be be your friend and to participate in any way I can.
Love,
Susan
Shana McLean Moore says:
Yes...
to everything the others have said, Ericka. By being so honest and allowing yourself to feel every ounce of your grief, you will surely find your way back to joy sooner than those who keep things Ziploc sealed.
Thinking of you...
Shana
Shana McLean Moore
www.caffeinatedponderings.com
www.sunnysidecommunications.com
Dale Estey says:
12 = a dozen
Let's not be hasty casting aside #12. No one has earned alcohol as a hobby more than a Widow-Diva.
When sadness is such that nothing but molasses time can help, there is a place for the ease of wine and the bite of spirits.
Best wishes to you, Ericka.
Ellen R. Sheeley says:
Re: #10 and #11
Interesting. And distressing.
And yet, under "gender" on my primary care physician's medical history form, the options were male, female, intersex, male-to-female transsexual, female-to-male transsexual, gender confused.
Anyway. . .count me among your many well wishers, Ericka. These are uncharted waters for you, but it seems as though you are navigating them as best as can be done.
Lisa Solod Warren says:
Fuck Sominex
Lunesta is the only safe non habit-forming sleeping pill that works. Get your doctor to give you a prescription.
Hugs and kisses.
shaynexus (not verified) says:
Ericka, you have my prayers and sympathy.
I have little advice for you except to keep all your friends near. Life is a team sport.
Andrea Alban Gosline says:
Dear Ericka: I am so sorry
Dear Ericka:
I am so sorry for your loss. I stumbled upon this blog after viewing my Red Room dashboard. I remembered your name because you favorably reviewed my first book, Mother's Nature, for Amazon in 1999. After reading your "25," I feel as though I know you. Very moving. Take care and take Lunesta!
All best,
Andrea
Chris Lombardi says:
I can't believe I didnt read this until now.
I breathe deep. It's poetry even as it just describes reality. Tiamo, sorella mia.