Soft Days

In the widows community, I've learned some new expressions that are specific to widowhood only.  They 'get it' and 'we get it' is used a lot to convey the fact that no one other than a fellow widow understands what it is like to live in a widow's world.   Another expression is used when one is feeling overwhelmed with sadness or sees another suffering in some way, 'Soft Days'  Wishing someone or oneself a 'soft day' or wishing the collective group 'softer days' reminds us to have hope, to be kind to ourselves and to others.  It is the opposite of the hard edged feelings that we too often feel.

In February, I am going to attend a 6 week class called "Picking up the Pieces"  Even this reminds me of how being left alone after a spouse's death conveys broken shards and sharp pieces of a former life strewn about under our feet. Life is full of both hardness and softness, but we can't have just one, we need both.  Ever notice how puzzles, even the ones for children still all have some sharp corners to the pieces?  You can't have a puzzle with all soft, round pieces; it would not fit together as one complete picture. But sometimes we just want and need a softening of attitudes from others, we need the softness or comfort of someone who does not judge us when we are acting chaotic and nonsensical.

I am finding out who my friends are and are not. Many longer term widows warn us newbies that the friends who tell you to 'call if you need anything' at the funeral disappear.  Even long term friends of the person who died fade away inexplicably after they promised their friend that they would always take care of his wife after he is gone.  Families divide up and take sides against the widow. It can be a good time to rustle up some long buried grudges as an excuse to get the widow out of their lives.  Some family members quit trying to engage the widow despite what they promise her at the memorial service.  The effort it takes to include that 'extra' person is just a bother sometimes, so they quit calling and hope she forgets about them.  I've read a lot of terrible stuff dished out that widows may or may not be taking too personally.  But when the hole in her life is still raw and bleeding, its pretty tough not to feel even more bereft when these things happen.

This is when one needs a soft day or a bunch of soft days strung together.  Novacain for the soul.

I have some old friends who I am happy to say have resurfaced when I need them.  Thank goodness they have been available and make the effort to help, not with anything tangible, but by listening and trying to understand(even if they can't). Some of these people are my family, but they double as my friends, too.  I can write or call them and they know where I am coming from and are not afraid to hear about any subject.
I have some old friends who still reach out and won't let me languish in solitude.  There are newer friends who I am getting to know as a widow and they like me for who I am now, not for what I was as part of a couple.

I wanted to include this story of a horseshoe crab especially after my 'Ugliness' blog post from yesterday because reading these insightful books and passages like the one below helps me to not feel awful or hopeless.

It is true that like the crab on its back in the sand, I struggle to right myself; not that I know these days what being right side up will look like.  I had read that many many people will say they want to help, but there are also too many who, after a death, turn their backs on the survivor. I have experienced this already from some formerly near and dear.
But, because I have more people who want to help me than there are those who are out to hurt me, I am hopeful.

Thanks to all who give me soft days.

 This is from a book by Nancy Gingras titled, Walks on the Beach

Horseshoe Crab (Upside Down)
"I find him wiggling all his legs at the sky trying to grab at something - trying to turn his life somehow. I flip him over, set him free at the edge of the water. I'm amazed how quickly he moves on. It feels good to have helped him.
We all have hands that want to help us right our course. They come out of nowhere. One moment we're stuck  and vulnerable, then we're free. What seemed impossible suddenly seems doable. At a difficult time in my life, a teacher came to me and offered to read "whatever I wrote", a friend offered to be a partner in a venture, a stranger came up to me and said, "I read your book and it was important to me," a man told me he thought I was beautiful. They were all hands flipping me (the upside-down horseshoe crab) over and sending me on my way.
I have to learn this lesson: to accept the hands (visible and invisible) that reach for me, that give me new chances at life. And I have to learn never to underestimate my own hands and how they touch and change the world".