“I’ve been through some horrible things, some of which actually happened.”—Mark Twain
Given my experience with the first sadiversary, I was prepared for a long emotional siege this year as well. I was surprised to wake up on the 17th feeling steadier, stronger, and positive. I felt like my "new normal" self on a reasonably good day. I don’t know why, but I’ll take it. I am grateful for every good day, because I will never forget those months and months of seemingly endless terrible days.
I’ve been talking with my friend whose dad passed, and trying to be there for her. She is more stoic than I was, and I don’t know if that’s how she is, or how she thinks she should be, but I’m determined not to impress my way upon her when her way is perfectly fine for her. It occurred to me that I am glad that I am this far out when her father passed. His passing at the same time of year as A brought up a lot of stuff for me as it was, but at this point, I’m strong enough to deal with my stuff AND be there for her and not make this all about me. I don’t know if I could say the same would be true had it happened a year ago. I didn’t mention the sadiversary, figuring that she had enough to deal with, but she found out and asked me about it anyway, which was exceptionally kind and loving of her given her own circumstances. Other than those of you here who lent your support, and those at the widow board, she was one of 2 people I know personally who even mentioned the day; the other is a woman whom I’ve never met in person, an internet friend in Dubai. No word from his family; I didn’t expect one, but I still hoped to be wrong.
I wasn’t.
Speaking of support, I’ve been considering attending Alicia’s bago this weekend, which she was kind enough to invite me to. I’m planning to go, if it’s an evening gathering. My only dilemma at this point is the matter of my rings. Do I take them off to avoid getting myself into conversations I don’t really want to have with strangers, or do I leave them on and take a quiet stand for personal integrity?
My inclination is to go the latter route, and hope it just doesn’t come up. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to come out to anyone, and the longer it goes, the less relevant it seems. And that would be true to the rest of the world, but not necessarily at a gathering of widows. Most people would assume I was remarried; after all, it’s been a decent interval, and I might’ve gotten lucky right out of the gate. I did—it was just that the starter pistol went off 18 years go. One could argue that the dilemma is enough to make avoiding the whole encounter a smart idea, and I certainly have considered it. But at the same time, there is community there I wouldn’t mind participating in, given the opportunity. And I don’t like to give in to my fears; I’m stubborn like that.
This has been a problem for me since the day A died, and it continues. I can engage in lies of omission and commission to avoid shocking the conventional, or I can just be who I am, and let the chips fall where they may. I don’t imagine they’ll run me off with torches and pitchforks; the worst-case scenario isn’t all that bad. Besides, I’ve survived A’s death; there is little that could equal that in terms of pain. If things get uncomfortable, I can go home. But do I have a duty to others to avoid making them uncomfortable? I want support for my loss, not my marriage, so maybe there’s no harm in avoiding the subject and leaving the jewelry at home. E won’t care.
But I do. The idea that I can be accepted for who I’m not, but not for who I am chafes. Maybe I need to have more faith in people? No one I’ve told has attacked me yet. But how much of that is my discretion in whom I tell, and their discretion in expressing their opinions, I don’t know.
I have had this debate with myself too many times to count, and I grow weary of it. The risks and realities are always the same, and there’s no single right answer. And the other thing is, I go through all this internal conflict every time, and as often as not, no one asks. I go in alert for danger, and nothing happens. It’s entirely possible no one would even notice my rings. Or they might assume I was married to A and just hadn’t taken them off yet, but I wasn’t married to him, officially. In my heart, I surely was. Am.
I’m pretty sure I’ve gone right into overthink mode at this point.
Not that you asked for advice, but if you did - mine would be to be true to yourself and wear the rings you normally wear. If people ask and don’t like your answer, that’s their problem and not yours.
Actually, in my roundabout way, I was asking, and I appreciate you offering, GRinDC. You’re right; that’s the right thing to do. That’s what I’m going to do. Thanks for nudging me in the right direction.
You’d better come! (I know, I haven’t made firm announcements of time, etc…, but hey! I’m a widow…)
As far as the rings go, there will be three other people there, all of whom I enjoy immensely. Two of the three are “conservative,” but I think they are also far more understanding than the general population. Being widowed does that, you know.
I can’t remember your rings, actually; I’m guessing that unless you fiddle with them, or call attention to them, folks won’t notice, or won’t say anything.
As widoweds, we all know that love and grief have no reason. I look forward to seeing you.
You should wear them but then you know I am a “falling chips” kind of girl.
You don’t owe anyone explanations or need to explain yourself beyond the facts.
I have only been to one bago. I was just starting to date Rob at the time, didn’t bring the subject up and can’t remember now if it did on its own or not. I do remember that after it became known on the board a couple of the widows there lost interest in having another bago as we had discussed that night. Their loss.
Go and have fun! Okay, it’s a bago. Go and feel at ease?
I’m laughing (well, sort of) at the “overthinking” comment at the end. Yup, I always overthink too, and usually for naught, it turns out.
So what did you end up doing about the rings and the ‘bago? I understand where you’re coming from, though. I had no idea about the specifics of your situation with A and E until after reading your blog for a while, and while I had a (very) brief moment of, “Oh. um. Okay…that’s a little different,” it quickly went away and doesn’t make a bit of difference to me. But maybe I’m more open-minded than some people. Who knows?
I haven’t run into it too many times (any?) since becoming widowed, but I always have to stop and remind myself that widows and widwers can still be jerks too. The death experience didn’t suddenly absolve them of their prior faults, nor put them on an earned, deserving pedestal. Most widows I’ve gotten to know well are wonderful, but just because you’re widowed doesn’t automatically mean you get it any more than nonwidowed DGIs do. Although dangit, I always assume and hope that they should.
Whichever route you chose, I hope you had a nice time and overthought for nothing. =) I’m bummed I’m not in Arizona (or I’m thinking/assuming that’s where you are), because I would have loved to meet you, Alicia, and any of the other widows I remember from the ywbb. =)
Take care!
I ended up going and wearing my rings. I only noticed one person noticing them, and nothing was said, so I slyly managed to slide my hand between couch end and pillow when I could. Probably unnecessary, but I caught her eye being caught, and I didn’t want to go there. Everyone at the bago was wearing their wedding set; mine was only odd because in the conversation about in-laws, I mentioned mine, adding that they weren’t in-laws, as we weren’t married.
But as I said, nothing was said, and we all had a good time. We laughed a lot, and while we did a lot of talking about non-widow-related subjects, the nice thing was, we could take about widow stuff if we wanted to, naturally, without watching the others for their reaction–you know, that intake of breath indicating “Oh, here she goes again…aren’t we past this now??” There was a lot of comfort in that. I was invited to the next one in Phoenix (yes, I’m in Arizona). I might consider doing this again. C’mon out; I’d love to meet you, too.
Your reaction to my situation really is all I’d ask for from anyone. I’m not looking for converts to a new way of thinking about relationships. If people can say “Huh. Probably not for me, but, hey, whatever floats your boat,” I think that’s great. I think that’s a great attitude towards different choices of any kind, you know?