Week of February 5, 2017 – Another Anniversary

By Joan Whetzel

 

This past week 2 anniversaries passed for me and my family – my father’s birthday on Feb. 2 and the 3^rd anniversary of his passing the next day. Normally, I feel a bit anxious this time of year since his passing. But this year, it really got to me.

You see, last Friday, a co-worker’s husband died in a horrible car accident. While I understand some of the widow part of what she’s going through, she’s also got a young son (9 years) and a step-son (17 years) that she and her husband were raising. I can’t imagine that part of what she’s going through.

So, while last week stirred up some of the feelings I had on my own widow’s journey, it also stirred up the loss of my father. The fact that her husband’s funeral fell on my dad’s birthday – and a day before the anniversary of his passing – is purely coincidental, I know. But it still had me off kilter last week.

Dealing with such anniversaries, up until now, involved “doing normal” – which means cleaning, grocery shopping, doing yardwork, and going to work. That last one – going to work – is what’s had me in a pickle. I go into work, expecting to see her there, and not knowing what to say to her. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know she’s not really going to be there, she’s got too much on her plate right now.) But then there’s also the prospect of hearing all of my co-workers talking about her and her loss. Part of me wants to join in the conversations. The other part of me doesn’t want to listen to the discussions. This anniversary made it all just a little too close for comfort. The usual “doing normal” didn’t seem to be helping.

The funeral did help a bit. There were the usual stories and laughs. (A reminder it’s okay to laugh at some of the memories.) And everyone in the auditorium shed a few tears, which gave me permission to shed a few tears of my own. Yeah, it felt selfish. After all this was for her and her family. But, still, the funeral gave me an excuse to cry a little without having to explain myself.

I think the best part of the funeral came toward the end. He was a firefighter, which – besides the huge crowd at the church (1,000+) – meant a full fire and police escort from the church to the graveside service (for family only) and there were bagpipes outside the church and at the gravesite. They also placed his coffin atop one of the engines and allowed his sons to ride with him to the cemetery.

While the funeral again gave me a bit of closure, I’ve found I needed to allow myself the opportunity to spend the weekend at home, just taking care of myself. Yes, I’m giving myself permission to be selfish.

Week of January 1, 2017 - Widows Are Happier

BY Joan Whetzel

 

I read an article recently about a study of nearly 2,000 widows and widowers in Italy. The study compared these widowed men and women over a 4-year period to see how they coped with the initial loss and widowhood over the next few years.

They study concluded that men were happier and less frail when married because they had wives taking care of them and their household needs. But once widowed, men were significantly more likely to become frail and depressed.

Women, it turns out, were 23% less likely to be frail and depressed after being widowed. Turns out that women are more likely to be stressed and depressed while married and taking care of their husbands, because they find “marriage restrictive and frustrating.”

Not only did they cope better with the initial stress of losing their husbands, the women in the study became much stronger and happier. Those that got jobs – or already had them – were less socially isolated and had greater job satisfaction. And those with higher education and financial levels had an even greater sense of physical and psychological well-being.

I don’t know if I’m as happy as my Italian counterparts, but I have to admit to feeling less stressed and depressed, and my life does feel less “restrictive and frustrating.” Working has definitely reduced my social isolation, and I no longer have that “caretaker” mentality I had when he was alive. I still find the need to remind myself, on occasion, that I don’t have to take his needs into consideration when making lifestyle changes.

I’ve been feeling this sense of freedom that I haven’t felt in a coon’s age. I don’t know if I’d call it happiness or relief. Either way, it feels pretty decent.

Week of December 25, 2016 - Christmas Blessings – Gifts That Come in Unexpected Packages

                                                                By Joan Whetzel

When my husband died, one of the things I knew I’d need almost right away, was a job. I prayed hard for help in this area. I had the good fortune to find AARP Senior Employment Services right away. As they pointed out from the beginning, though, this was NOT a permanent job, but a way to work at one or more host agencies (of a charitable foundation nature) in order to gain job skills and maybe even some contacts with the potential to help me get that job. They helped me find places to apply and offered to help pay for some types of job training or education in order to gain certain job skills.

During this time at AARP, I earned minimum wage for part time services to the two host agencies for whom I was assigned and used and many of my off-hours as possible hunting for that permanent job. The point of this exercise was not just to look for a “job”, and not just to get paid for learning a few basic job skills, but to learn how to make my efforts mean something. Getting as much out of the experience as possible was dependent on my putting as much as possible into the experience.

I picked up many valuable job skills while working at these host agencies (these gifts were delivered in packages I was expecting: copying, scanning, running both a mail-fold-and-insert machine and a mail meter machine, 2 programs used by non-profits to keep track of donors and potential donors, 2 health records programs, and Excel. But even though I learned these skills fairly quickly and was applying to hundreds of jobs, I still wasn’t getting THE job. I prayed harder, sometimes wondering if He was listening. How many times would I hear “No” before I realized that “No” was His final answer?

Still, I received a few gifts that came in unexpected packages. One of the harder lessons, for me, was to go from being a stay-at-home mom and grandma to getting out in the world and working with others. The other hard lesson for me occurred because I was feeling sorry for myself (I just lost my husband and needed to find a way to earn my own money to pay the bills).  Maybe my self-pity was a little bit justified, but I needed to look beyond my own needs and care about others who were quite possibly worse off than I was. I learned (a) ways of working with people who were in the uncomfortable position of needing to ask for help and (b) how to treat them with the dignity and respect they deserved.

I also began to see, at my second host agency, that as soon as I started seeing myself as part of the group effort and aiming my efforts more and more toward the greater good of the clinic and the patients we served, the more I felt like I belonged there. And the more the people I worked with started treating me like I was a member of the staff.

Around Thanksgiving, though, after a couple more rejections from jobs I’d interviewed with, I went back to the prayers. “Alright God, you can see I’ve been fulfilling my end of this job search, and picking up a lot of valuable job and life skills. Don’t get me wrong. The minimum wage and my husband’s pension have gone a long way. But…. What gives? What do I need to do to get a “Yes” here?”

Turns out he wasn’t saying a flat-out “NO.” He was saying “Wait for it! Wait for it!” The first week in December, the clinic (host agency) came to me with a job offer. They hadn’t posted the position on their website or any of the job boards, I didn’t even know the position was available.

It seems because I was willing to pick up the slack in several positions (in both the administrative and clinic end of things), and because I already knew the programs for the health records, check-in/check-out, and appointments setting, they knew that I could be trained quickly for the position. So, for the last 2 weeks I have been training to work their Aftercare Clinic (sort of an urgent care clinic), with my hours from 2:30 to 7 PM (7:30 if it’s busy), 4 days a week. No more minimum wage! Wahoo!

Wait! Wait! It gets better! Last Thursday (Christmas Eve-Eve-Eve), they let me know that they were expanding my position. They will be giving me some additional administrative duties beginning next week, the week between Christmas and New Year. The pay is the same – who gets a raise after 2 weeks, right? – but I will be working an additional 10 hours a week. I’ll be working from 12 noon to 7-ish for 4 days a week. This wasn’t the job I was looking for, but it was most certainly the best Christmas gift - wrapped in an unexpected package – that I ever got. Praise the Lord for answered prayers.

JOAN'S OFFICE: I Must’ve Had a Screw Loose

JOAN'S OFFICE: I Must’ve Had a Screw Loose: By Joan Whetzel Well, my A/C started acting up a few weeks ago. Right in the middle of the October end of our Texas summer (highs 95 ...

I Must’ve Had a Screw Loose

By Joan Whetzel

Well, my A/C started acting up a few weeks ago. Right in the middle of the October end of our Texas summer (highs 95 degrees +/-).  First it developed a clatter. Then it decided it wasn’t going to blow as hard nor as cold as was customary. I even checked out the heater a few times. I was getting some heat, but not at its usual level. Then it quit altogether. And it started again for about 10 minutes. And it stopped. And….

So I had the guys at O’Reilly Auto Parts check it out. It was the blower motor – that part that blows the hot or cold air through the vents. They didn’t have the part but could order it, for 180 dollars!

After watching a YouTube video  that made it look like a quick and easy fix, I decided I was going to attempt this repair myself. It was simply a matter of removing 3 screws, unplugging the wires supplying power and the air flow tube, and letting the old blower motor drop out. Then doing the reverse with the new blower motor. Total time? Approximately 5 minutes.

The hardest part, it appeared, was that the motor could only be accessed inside the car, underneath the glove compartment, which meant spending a few minutes on my knees, on the concrete, and twisting my torso so I could use my left hand to unscrew the screws. This was my first hint of trouble – it was a job for lefties – and people who can stand kneeling for long periods of time on a hard surface – trying to remove screws that hadn’t been removed in 14 years and had no plans for coming out now.

Two hours later, I couldn’t get up off the ground, my knees were screaming, my back muscles cramped up so that I couldn’t straighten myself, and, yes, the screws were still in place. I couldn’t get hold of my son or daughter to come help me because one’s phone was dead ant the other had turned his phone off. Well, my daughter finally came home. 2 ½ hours after I’d started. Of course by this time, I was cussing like a sailor at three stupid screws which I swore up and down I was going to toss into a field somewhere; anywhere where they could never give lick of trouble to another living sole ever again!

Except for one thing. A quick glance at the new blower motor exposed another problem. It came without screws.  So, when my daughter attacked the screws, we made sure to hang onto those (bleep)ing  little parts. It took my daughter 15 minutes to remove them (only because I'd spent the better part of 2 ½ hours loosening them for her). In less than a minute she had the old blower motor out and was replacing the (bleep)ing screws into the new one – yeah, they went in much easier than they came out. A few seconds later she had the wires and air flow hose plugged back in. The blower motor now puts out the usual Arctic Waste and Saharan Summer winds.  

If I’d known that 3 little screws were going to make my Sunday afternoon this aggravating, I might have reconsidered. I almost had myself convinced (for a second) that I had a few of my own screws loose for attempting this repair. But instead, I’ve found it’s made me fighting mad. I am not going to let a seemingly easy auto repair stop me. Next time, I get a repair that looks like something I could do, I’m going after it with a vengeance. This is not going to beat me. One good thing that’s come out of it, though. My daughter’s blower motor was doing the same thing as mine. She knows where the blower motor is and she now knows how to fix it. Next paycheck? We’re attacking a Toyota Matrix.

Oh, and if anyone has a prayer, a good luck charm, or a magic spell for making the removal of stubborn screws easier, send them our way.

Making Life Changes – Taking My Life Back

                                                                        By: Joan Whetzel

November is only few short weeks away, and marks one of those milestones. In just over a month lies what would have been my 37^th wedding anniversary, which falls on Thanksgiving this year. One of my friends at work is getting married 2 days after my anniversary, on a Saturday, just like the year I got married. Yeah, it makes me a little uncomfortable, but I am also looking forward to the wedding because she is such a sweetheart and I really couldn’t be happier for her. In one way it makes me sad to no longer be celebrating my own wedding, but in another, it feels like I’m handing over the reins to someone special. This change, for me, is like letting loose of one of those widow’s milestones that I no longer wish to hang onto, and giving it to someone who will breathe the life back into it, and the happiness, and the blessings. It’s no longer my sad anniversary. It’s her happy one.

I’ve found that my life changes in recent years have come in two forms. The changes that have been thrust upon me, and the changes that I want to make in order to take my life back.

The first few months of widowhood were cram-packed with those changes that were thrust upon me. I hated having all of that “reality” dropped in my lap until I felt like I was being buried alive. I was talking about this with another friend from work, who it turns out was widowed just 1 year before me. Like her, I have come to be grateful now for those piles of changes. If it weren’t for all those changes that needed urgent or immediate attention, I would have caved-in to my deep desire to just crawl into bed and hide under the covers until it all went away. They forced me to get up and take care of all those things that were most definitely NOT going away.

They closed the door to my life as I once knew it. But they also opened a window of opportunity (didn’t look like an opportunity at the time), and unceremoniously shoved through and forced me to make the changes I needed to make my life better. They also showed me I had the strength and courage to make the changes.

My discussion with my newly discovered fellow-widow also pointed out something else to me. Like her, I am at the point where I want to take my life back in other ways. I hadn’t realized just how much of myself I’d given up to take care of others: to raise children, to help my son when he had troubles in high school, to help my daughter when she moved back in with us and went through a particularly difficult custody battle, then navigating my husband’s illness and death. I really need to figure out what my dreams are so I can work them back into my life. And I need to protect my dreams, make sure they stay my dreams.

My friend told me about her dream to buy a beach house in Galveston. Two family members, knowing her funds were more limited than theirs, began looking for a beach house that they would “let” her share whenever she wanted. As good as their intentions were, it felt like they were hijacking her dream. Through a set of circumstances beyond their control, they were unable to buy the beach house. No sooner had their plans fallen through, than the perfect beach house for her presented itself – at the perfect price – on her wedding anniversary.

Part of taking my life back has included changing the dynamics of my relationship with my husband’s family, especially with his mother (a relationship that has never been good). It means spending far less time with them and no longer allowing my husband’s mother to control my life and ignore my boundaries. They don’t like it, but I didn’t expect they would. I have also been finding my own opinion on things – like politics. There have been times when others d0 not agree with my opinion, and would probably like to put me back in my place (e.g. I should agree with them, or remain silent like I used to do).  But it feels good to be able to have an opinion that’s mine, one that’s not dictated to me by others (like the in-laws).

But I know there will be other changes, as I find new dreams and discover ways to follow them. These changes – the ones I choose to take my life back – will be positive. There may be one or two who will disapprove (like my husband’s mother who disapproves of everything). But those who care about me and have my best interests at heart, will be glad and will cheer me on because they’ll know that I’m breathing the life back into my dreams, and the happiness, and the blessings.

The Cat Came Back

By Joan Whetzel

 

When my kids were young, Nickelodeon (T) used to play this short cartoon as a filler whenever their programming was too short to fill out the half hour. It showed the numerous ways this family used to try to get rid of their obnoxious, ornery, destructive cat. It didn't matter what lengths they went to. The cat just kept coming back. The song's refrain, like the cat, is equally obnoxious and keeps  popping back into my  head at the drop of a hat.

 

The Song

            The cat came back
            the very next day 

                        Oh yes, the cat came back

                        They thought he was a gonner

            But the cat came back

            He just wouldn’t stay away

Every time I have problem that recurs, this stupid song starts banging around my head. I’ve had two problems recently that I thought we'd taken care of, but those cats just won’t stay away.

 

The Bees

We had some bees that took up residence along the corner of our roof line. We tried everything we could to get rid of them ourselves, to no avail. The only thing we got for our efforts were some "bleep"-ed off bees. So last year we called an exterminator that took care of bees and hive removal.

At the time, they found out the bees had built a honeycomb in the rafters right where they were entering and leaving. They had to remove a small portion of the roof and siding to clean out the hive, after which they replaced the insulation, the roofing, and the siding. All was great with the world.

Except the cat came back this year. And the original exterminator is ignoring us completely. So, another year another exterminator. The new guy drilled some holes in strategic locations – the key spots where the bees might be trying to build another hive – and inserted a scope to see how much it was going to take to get rid of them. The drones were definitely starting to collect again, but so far, no honeycomb this time.

For $250, he killed them off. If they still appear to be gone today or tomorrow, my daughter and I are going to patch that one corner of the roofing and siding with a cotton plug and some calking. The previous guys were supposed to have caulked all the seams along the front and both sides of the house, to keep the bees out. Apparently. they missed that one spot the bees love so much. With any luck, this will do the trick and that cat will stay away.

 

The Grass

Earlier this spring, my daughter and I dug up the thin strip of grass between our driveway and the side of the house. We transplanted this grass out back of the garage to fill in the bare patch. We’re glad to say that the grass transplants are particularly hearty and have taken off well. We’ve got grass growing like crazy behind the garage.

In the bare strip we planted some juniper bushes and other flowering plants. The petunias and bluebonnets have run their lifecycle, the bougainvillea have started climbing the trellis, and the juniper – while not filling out as fast as I thought it would – has not died.

The problem? The grass keeps coming back. We’ve pulled it out several times, but within 2 weeks, the grass comes back. It just won’t stay away. The grass really loves that strip of land; a testament to the heartiness of St. Augustine grass. It seems to be damned near impossible to get rid of. A few days ago, we got some grass killer spray. We chose a brand that said you could spray it near plants without killing them. We’ve sprayed a test section twice now. So far, it hasn’t harmed the juniper, but it hasn’t harmed the grass either.

Anybody out there with a recipe for grass killer? I am open to suggestions.