Farewell NCIS, I Knew Ye Well

You may already be wondering what NCIS could possibly have to do with my widowhood.  Well, as with most interesting things in life there is a bit of a story behind the story.   When my husband passed away last January I had to wait until May to schedule the burial.  It was a difficult time and my mom came to stay with me the week after the service.  

Mom has watched NCIS faithfully for the past ten plus years.  She watched a few episodes with me that week on one of those NCIS Marathons on USA Network.  The character development was so fantastic and upon her advice I started watching old episodes on those marathon days.  Apparently there had been a huge NCIS phenomenon this past decade and I missed the whole thing.  Late in the summer I was reading a book by Debbie Macomber about a widow rebuilding her life when I ran across a reference to NCIS.  An elderly neighbor of the main character had to run home to catch Mark Harmon on a marathon day.  All roads led to NCIS.

As the months went by I actually came to love the show and all the quirky characters-  Gibbs, Abbey, Ducky, McGee, DiNozzo and Zeva.  Those were dark days for me and it gave me something new to focus upon -  something unrelated to my husband.  By last fall I was so 'caught up' on the show that I began watching each new episode on Tuesday night on CBS.  Until this week that is.  

On Tuesday a video was posted to YouTube in which Michael Weatherly - actor on NCIS- portrays Jesus in a pro-abortion skit with Sarah Silverman.  Now we live in a free country.  While  I do not support abortion,  I would never judge someone who does nor treat them with blatant disrespect.   If only Sarah and Michael had thought about common courtesy, respect and appropriate behavior before filming this video.  Or before posting it to YouTube.  Really, they had to go there.  They used foul language and mocked Christ.  It was a deeply offensive portrayal.  It went beyond expressing an  opinion.   It crossed a line.  A line between acceptable behavior and unacceptable behavior.  A line that we as a society have allowed to move beyond boundaries once considered forbidden.    Billions of Christians know that Jesus Christ is God.    What were they thinking?

I know what I am thinking.  I recall a homily my parish priest shared with us at church a few months ago.  He discussed the early days of the church when Christians were martyred.  They were dragged out of their homes and convicted of being a follower of Christ based on evidence or testimony by someone else.  Then they were tortured and executed.  2,000 years later this still happens in some areas of our world.  In the US we are blessed with religious freedom.  And sometimes we take that freedom for granted.  At the end of this sermon he asked us to consider our homes.  If a stranger were to visit your home, is there enough evidence there to 'convict you' as a Christian?  And I thought yes, there is - I have crosses on several walls and I actually have bible verse on a wall in the entryway.

Today I am processing the concept of what 'home' means in this age of social media.  Is not my Facebook wall, Twitter feed and blog space also my home?  And so I am sharing how offended I am by this YouTube video.  I am offended that so many days after it was posted that YouTube still has it online.  I am offended that CBS has not offered an apology for the actions of an actor under contract with that network.    And so I sent feedback directly to both CBS and YouTube prior to drafting this blog post.

I urge all Christians to express an opinion when something like this happens.  I believe that if we did vocalize our outrage then offensive moments like this would happen less often.   Why are we allowing our Christianity to be marginalized?   And so today I choose to stand up for Christ.   Farewell NCIS, I knew ye well.

Widow to Widow

This month I began my second year of widowhood.  As I look forward to the years ahead, I can’t imagine anything being more difficult than this past year of living after my husband was gone.  Yet I have had several widows tell me that they found the second year to be harder than the first.  I suspect that is because you have all these milestones to get through the ‘FIRST YEAR’.   And then as you stare down the second year you realize you have to do it all again and this is your life.   It will not suddenly improve but will be a continuing process.

I grieved deeply this past year and so I’m looking forward with some hope to enter a new phase of mourning.  It’s time to get out a bit more with family and friends and find more moments of joy.   I have something planned for the next three weekends in a row.    The challenge will be to keep those commitments even if they fall upon a more difficult day.   These days a difficult day means more feeling sad than having bouts of sobbing.   I confess that is a relief because until this loss I did not know it was physically possible for a person to shed so many tears nor for such a lengthy period of time.

I was given a lot of advice this past year and many books on grieving.  I found some of the books to be mildly helpful and some actually made me feel worse.   I learned to be very selective as to which books on the topic I allowed myself to read.  For me the current trend to place all types of losses into one group and say that all grief is the same is a huge disservice to everyone.  Especially widows.   It’s a very unique loss and not at all the same as other losses a person will encounter in a lifetime.  Even among widows there are differences depending on whether there were children and if they are grown.    Because I still work I find weekends to be more difficult but some women would be facing the same state of solitude everyday.  From all these conversations and books I gleaned a few gems that could prove helpful for another widow facing solitary days.    Here they are in no particular order:

• Get dressed and eat breakfast everyday.   And it’s okay to stay in your jammies on an early difficult day.
• As time goes on begin planning some meals.  Don’t eat everything from a prepackaged frozen meal for too many months.
• Be kind and gentle with yourself.  Your ability to think clearly and make decisions gradually returns.  There is usually nothing so urgent it can’t wait those first months. 
• Plan some lunches out with family and friends.  At first that may be all you can handle.  It is important to get out occasionally. 
• Walking outdoors is therapeutic. 
• Keep lists of things you want to do.  When you feel up to it begin planning when you will do them.  If you change your mind on a difficult day that is okay too.  Most things will happen again next year.
• Try to have something planned for the next day.  It matters not if it is work, errands, reading a book, a craft project, going for a walk, calling someone to chat.  But have something in mind to do the next day before going to sleep each night. 
• Find someone else to help or be kind to.  A family member or neighbor who needs your assistance can be a welcome diversion.
• Thank people for their advice and then make your own decisions.  Follow your heart.  Trust your instincts.  You will know when it is time for you to clean out the closet or bookcase.  You alone will know when or if you want to stop wearing the wedding ring.  By all means ask loved ones for help but don’t be pushed into something you simply cannot yet handle.
• My favorite book was ‘Widow to Widow’ by Genevieve Davis Ginsburg.  It is an older book I found it to be helpful and easily found at Amazon.

Modest Expectations

I used to have expectations.  Some were underlying assumptions of what life would be or how people would behave.  Some were more demanding expectations of how people would interact with me.  The last few years have taught me to let go of expectations.  

Some of my past great expectations were that although I’d experienced numerous quirky health issues I wouldn’t face anything really scary like cancer.  I just knew that I would retire in a few years and my husband and I would spend many contented years together in retirement.  After all, my husband was so healthy there was just no way something like cancer would dare attack his body. 

After having been proved wrong in these greater areas I have come to examine the smaller day-to-day expectations.  We all have them.  We expect someone to call us or say something that is not said.  We quietly expect people in our lives to behave certain ways all the time.  As a widow you find yourself in the unusual situation where truly people can’t do or say the ‘right’ thing for you.  Your emotions are on a roller coaster and most of the people in your life simply can’t understand the ride.  They will try and they will fail.  Sometimes they will get it right.  It is far better to seek acceptance.  My husband used to say:  ‘it is what it is.’

My suggestion is that we have much more modest expectations of the people around us and ourselves.  I by no means suggest that we live quiet lives of desperation.  I rely on the graces of God to provide for me.  I live in hope.  I just no longer get concerned if a person doesn’t call me.  I can always reach out to them.  And if someone says the wrong thing, I forgive unintended hurts more readily.  I realize that other people are struggling with their own failed great expectations.  And I always remember to be gentle with myself.  I am on a constantly changing journey in this life.  I don’t know what the future will hold but I trust it will be good.  Yet I know that I won’t have the long-term energy to be joyful unless I carry modest expectations. 

The state of being resolved

Resolutions.  January is the month we are programmed to contemplate such things.  Many of us begin exercise regimes or pull out healthy recipes from our cookbooks.  My resolutions this year were simpler in planning but difficult in execution.  I plan on treating myself the way I do someone I love.  And I will attempt to let go of the pain of my loss.  

How does one start to implement such lofty resolutions? I began by making myself poached eggs for breakfast.  My husband always cooked them for me in years gone by because they are my favorite egg dish.  For most of last year I simply could not go there.  I recall poaching an egg last fall and being teary eyed the whole time.  It tasted like ashes in my mouth.  

Last weekend my sister was visiting and she whipped up poached eggs because they are her favorite too.  And it was the best tasting breakfast ever.  And so I made them for myself after her visit.   They tasted delicious.   A small moment of enjoyment.   I’m no expert but that may have been striking upon both resolutions in one egg dish.