...there's ol' Widow Hunt...

...the funny thing about life? You don't really understand it until you have to...You don't really know what is in store for you, until everything you knew is sort of worthless. Some would look at this as a growing experience. Some would look at it as a chance for rebirth of their faith. Some would even go so far as saying you are better for it happening to you. But that's the thing, they aren't you...

Life is full of all of these terms and generalizations branding situations that are so very individualized that it is almost laughable. The things that people say while one is grieving? You can either laugh at them or if you are really talented you nod your head while mentally punching them in the face. I wish I had the proper response to someone who is grieving...but the only thing that comes to mind is a hug, a bottle of good booze, and a smile.

Now, thankfully, I'm no longer settled into this place. I remember it, and I remember it well. Every now and again, someone will say something to me, and I seriously have to stunt the urge to tell them that unknowingly what they uttered is not only offensive, but sweet Jesus don't ever say that to anyone again. These are thankfully few and far between. I know people are stunted for knowing what to say, and even an overly verbal person like myself NOW knows saying nothing is almost preferred.

So, this rant? Does it have a reason? One word...widow. I sort of hate that word. Understandably, it meant something a little different years ago, it's origin is from the 1400's. A woman's husband would die, leaving her destitute and feeble...leaving her to scuttle off to the edge of town, rarely to be heard of or seen. Her name would be totally forgotten for anything other than that of "...'Ol Widow (insert last name here)..." She would rarely be seen out from underneath a darkened veil...yeah, that sounds like me.

This word, this term shouldn't have to determine my grief...but to some it still does. Grief shouldn't have to be worn to know it's happening. One term shouldn't brand you for the rest of your life. But, try explaining your situation if you are one...head tilts and sad looks. As if that is going to help the fact that you cannot be at the orthodontist for one of your kids at 6:30 am. There's no real great way to meet new people unless you are ready for their possible response. And nothing starts a party like the phrase, "...I'm a widow..." Pass the fun flask...

I decided a long time ago that I would grieve the way I needed to. I would let the break downs, the fall outs, the waves come when I needed it to come, in my own time, my own way. Not wear it on my sleeve like some scarlet letter. Not have to constantly remind people that I'm damaged, I'm a widow. I sort of feel some stupid sense of empowerment from it. I think my spouse would be proud of me, as crazy as I am, for grieving the way I have despite the way the world works. I'm not saying that I fully understand life, but I'm saying that I understand it more than the word widow could possibly identify me...and end rant.