The sooner you accept the fact that you have to take care of yourself,
the better it will be. He’s gone.
You used to know how to do this. You can do it again.
Put your big girl panties on and get the f@#$ out of bed.
You know he’d tell you the same thing, so just do it.
Or roll over, give up and die. It’s your choice. Own it.
Lisa Bain, The Life After Journals
Whenever I feel myself getting extra emotional and sweatin’ the small stuff, I know I’m getting sick. How could a formerly strong woman who used to power through the worst illness or pain now struggle to deal with a little cold like it’s the man flu? Funny how one letter, say a W, can change everything.
Picture it, Sicily 1956. Oops, wrong show. (You youngins can Google Golden Girls. I’ll wait.)
Picture it: me, stuck in a hotel room feeling miserable. Annoyed at missing out on yet another night on the town, and pissed at Dan for dying and leaving me alone to take care of myself. Add in a sad song playlist and scrolling through old photos, and you get the gist. Yeah, I know. Dramatic. And for the record, the boohooing only makes the sniffles worse. But sometimes the pity party just has to happen so you can get on with your day.
Where’s the nurse?
I’m totally capable of taking care of myself, but miss having someone take care of me when I’m sick. Dan was a $hitty nurse but always made sure I had drinks and food. He’d check to make sure I didn’t have a fever. If I were really sick, he’d take me to the doctor. But mostly he’d wake me up to tell me that he missed me or to ask if I needed Jello or soup. HE’D WAKE ME UP FOR THAT! Damn, I miss how annoying Nurse Dan could be!
So there I was, lying in a Spanish hotel room feeling awful and being whiny about it. Times like this are rude reminders that I’m really alone and have to be the grown up in this relationship. I have to be the someone who takes care of me. Easy Peasey when it’s treating yourself to a stay in an Irish castle. It’s not as easy when you feel icky and have to doctor yourself in another country. Adulting 101. Check.
And with that, I’m reminded I do have someone who can bring me drinks and food. The lovely people at room service.
Oh, and it’s true one letter can change everything. Add one more W, and now I’m Wonder Woman.
XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.
P.S. I’m fine now. But for all my W’s, please take care of yourself. Preventing illness in the first place is the best way to avoid having to nurse yourself back to health.
That’s a big hurdle to get through, Lisa, when the reality really hits that you don’t have someone around to care for you. Multiply by heaps when you’re in a hotel room, in a strange country, and nobody knows you!
But you did it – and survived! Another huge step on your journey!
Just keep reminding yourself that you’re an amazing woman and I’m quite in awe of you. I’m sure Dan would be proud. xx
Thanks Marguerite!
I hear you Lisa, the why me. I lost my husband Don from a massive heart attack whilst entertaining two other families and their children Labour Day 1989. My children were there 13 & 15 and I was 39. Overnight I became the breadwinner with no skills or education.
Remember those days in bed not wanting to get up, the dog would creep up the stairs after they had left for school. When I was sick I was miserable and a bitch to the kids missing Don looking after me. However time does heal even on special occasions when you wish he was there graduations, University, getting married, grandchildren.
I feel your pain. You being older and missing your soulmate as you travel and try to discover yourself and how to live by yourself. I wish you much joy and discovery in your travels and finding your authentic self and how to go on. Much love and blessings to you. Sue
Thanks Susan. 🙂 Best to you as well.
Just saw this today. Thought you might enjoy! Apropos of your post.
https://medium.com/@lovethesearch/dont-date-a-girl-who-travels-802c49b9141c
I LOVE this! Thank you for sharing it with me.