Thursday, January 2, 2020
(0 Comments)
Posted by: Jen Gilliland
It was time
By Barb Walter, Kingfisher Times & Free Press
It wasn’t what I expected, or as I’d feared.
It was more of a reunion of friends.
Friends and acquaintances that I hadn’t seen in a long time, and it was time.
It had been three years.
I made excuses for not going the first and second years because I couldn’t accept that I was, I am, a widow.
That word is still strange to me.
I’m used to it being Bill and Barb, or Barb and Bill.
A couple.
Not the W word.
I’m not used to him not being with me because I still talk to him constantly. Sometimes it’s a Remember When conversation, and other times I’m really PO’ed at him for leaving me.
When I got the invitation in the mail a few weeks ago from the Baptist church deacons of their annual dinner for widows and widowers, I thought I’d dodge the invitation again.
I tried to suck it up when one of the deacons made a personal contact, but knew I wouldn’t make it.
Then Sunday afternoon came. I wasn’t tired, but I settled down for a nap with the cats. Surely I’d sleep through the 5 p.m. church dinner, and I’d have an excuse. My husband used to say, and rightly so, that my idea of a nap was four hours.
I don’t know if sleep really came, or if I just thought about what I missed most about him: his smile.
I had this thing about walking up to him when he was in a group and ever so-slightly patting him on the butt in a way that only we shared. It was that smile that I missed. That sheepish, all knowing, all loving smile that I miss the most.
I even miss him calling me Darling. It wasn’t a term of endearment when he said it. It was said during an argument, which he called discussions, but I knew better when he sternly said Dar-r-rling.
My phone alarm went off at 4 p.m.
I didn’t remember setting it.
Then I changed out of the pajamas I’d worn for a couple of days, tore the tags off some sale clothes and got ready for the church dinner.
I parked across the street in case I got cold feet, then I saw one of the ladies going into dinner take a tumble. I thought I could help but others came to her rescue before I got there.
I was welcomed at the door and relieved to see many friendly faces that I hadn’t seen for awhile, and took a seat next to a Lacey card party friend. She sat next to a woman who’d sent me a sympathy card that I see every morning. I framed the cover. It reads: Breathe.
Print Page
Email to a Friend