As a child of the 30s I tend to be somewhat prudent … well, maybe more than “somewhat” prudent. Those raised in that long ago era are a mystery and often a source of irritation to their children who are always admonishing them, “get some of the things you ‘want’ Mom, not just what you ‘need.’”
But my “wants” are so few … and now with Harry gone they are even less.
One thing I did want for after he died was understanding and compassion and wrote of it in the following verse…
Don’t bring me flowers, take my hand
And tell me that you understand
Share my tears and make me see
That you are always there for me
The road is long and oh so new
Can’t do it alone … I really need you.
So be there friend, until I’m stronger
This aching heart can’t hurt much longer
And soon I’ll laugh and smile again
But right now, please, by my side remain.
The deep wrenching pain that completely enveloped me the first year of widowhood is beginning to ease-off. And like the sunny morning after a heavy snowfall, I am still covered with a layer of grief but I feel warmed by the love of my friends.
I’ve learned not to be “prudent” with my compassion for other widows and as I reach out to them, hopefully I am filling some of their “wants” as well as their “needs.”
