Today I gave a holiday party for my memoir writers’ group. We meet at my church the first and third Friday of each month, and have been doing this for over ten years. For the past four or five years, on the third Friday of December, we have held a holiday party after our meeting, sharing food and enjoying talking to one another in our church meeting room. Last year I had an inspiration and suggested that we adjourn from the church to my house, about five minutes away, for our holiday party. My little house was decorated for Christmas, there was music and candle light, and all thirteen seemed to enjoy the setting. So this year, I invited the group to my home for the party again.
The thing is… if Bill had been alive, I doubt I would have invited them. This house was our home, and inviting a large group of people late in the afternoon close to what Bill considered dinner time (5:00 pm) would have been infringing on his space. Perhaps an extrovert would have been just fine with a late afternoon party for twelve strangers, but Bill was not an extrovert, although he was a very generous and warm host. It would have needed the kind of delicate negotiating act that any spouse in a marriage of many years would recognize.
But now this is my house, my home. I can invite anyone here, any time that I choose. But oh how I wish that were not the case, that I could turn back the clock and have Bill here to say to, “What do you think about inviting my memoir writing group here for our annual holiday party next Friday? I think there are some guys you would enjoy talking to.”
Now as I extinguish the candles and clean up the dishes, I think about loss and change, and I wonder how other widows view the bitter sweetness of new freedoms.
Dear Kristen,
My sister, Marsha Plucker, has been after me for awhile to check out your blog. As a recent widow, I resisted, until now. Afraid of bringing emotions up that I have worked so hard to keep in check these last months. Your “Holiday Party” put words to many recent moments and experiences. Thank you.
Sincerely,
Jeanne
Hello Jeanne,
I hope you will check in periodically. I am writing this blog to help myself and to help others who are grieving, It is a long and complicated journey. Your cousin Kristin
Dear Kristen,
Complicated indeed. On Christmas I went to dinner at Ed’s family’s house. I was feeling open & confident because I did not feel at all vulnerable to attacks of the weepies. Everything went well, general conversations blah blah. We were almost through gift exchange when my nephew presented his wife with a lovely specially designed necklace. ATTACK! I excused myself to the bathroom and blubbered like A baby. Don’t know if it was the jewelry, the sentiment or just the love they shared but it melted my reserve without warning. Never know when those kind of moments will pop up. A new level of expecting the unexpected and I think that’s what makes it so complicated.
Thank you for responding.
Cousin jeanne t
Dear Jeanne,
Sorrow can just rise up and knock us over. Seeing an exchange of love such as your nephew giving his wife the necklace can do it, or seeing an older couple going through a grocery store, looking at their shopping list–that one really gets to me. In time, the pain is not so raw. Your cousin Kristin