I am really starting to miss Randy. Being alone in this house is a completely different experience than I’ve had for all of my life. Several of my friends still check on me every day. Some of their eyes glaze over when they ask what I did that day. I laughed when I realized I’d better take care not to verbalize an entire day’s thoughts just because I’ve had the misfortune of not having anyone else to talk to that day.
This living alone experience is interesting. I don’t have to take anyone else’s needs, wants, quirks, thoughts, or ideas into consideration. I’m contemplating adjustments slowly. Nothing has to be done quickly. I mull over whether thought processes, routines, activities, and outright changes have to be done now or later. Sometimes I choose to do nothing based on what and how I feel. That seems selfish. It seems daunting. It seems intimidating. It seems…freeing.
The thing is that I never once felt enslaved married to Randy. We’d come to a place in our union that our expectations for each other in our daily routine were comfortable, like a pair of old slippers. I did, however, often feel enslaved, and frustrated by the “stuff”, the material possessions, which surrounds us.
Twice this week in the widow and grief related material bombarding me online, I bumped into reading something that mentioned how healing it was to seriously evaluate what no longer serves us. This is, of course, not the first time I’ve heard this. It’s good advice when you are struggling and the only thing that will help fix the struggle is to make changes in your life. The old adage rings true here: If you want something to change, you’ve got to change something.
Generally, changing something huge in your life involves changes in close personal relationships. Many of the women I mentored over the years needed to sever relationships with men who definitely no longer served them. Often, for a lot of reasons, they were unable or unwilling to do that even though it meant the same problems would recycle over and over and over. I came to see that their fears, probably of being alone, were bigger than their struggles. I never understood many of their decisions to keep the guy and all the issues that created for them over being alone. It’s akin to taking the castor oil in one gulp instead of sipping it. I’ve written often, and recently, about making hard choices to get the pain over quickly and cleanly.
I’ve also written often about how, like now for me, we don’t get a choice about the changes in our life that affect us profoundly. But we always get a choice about how we react to those changes.
I’m starting to settle into a little bit of a daily routine now that Randy’s gone. I have to fold all of his chores into my life. I sold the lawn mower because I know I was unwilling and probably incapable of taking care of the mowing and trimming. The lawn guy I hired is keeping it mowed, but he doesn’t do a great job trimming and keeping it clean and looking good. If after chatting with him, he no longer serves me, he’ll be history and I’ll kind a new company.
I’ve mastered the art of taking care of the pool. I know how to work all the equipment and know what to do when the water gets a little wonky. My friends Megan and John took care of it for me while I was gone. That was a big sacrifice for them since they don’t even take care of their own pool. So, a great, big public thank you to them. I’ve found that the pool maintenance isn’t nearly as daunting as I imagined it. Thank goodness for that. I do love the pool and hiring someone to take care of it is a little expensive.
I’ve been slowly working on going through closets, Randy’s desk, the garage, cupboards, the pantry, his dresser and nightstand, the credenza in the dining room, and all the places Randy stashed stuff. And oh Lordy, there’s a lot of stuff. He was loath to throw much away. I am not. So many of those things were important to him. But they don’t serve me in any way any longer.
I wonder if I’m dishonoring his memory by wanting to get rid of his things. I try to think of who among family and friends would appreciate my passing some of his stuff on to them. If you’re reading this and want anything, be sure to let me know. I think I’ve made peace with the fact that it’s not dishonoring to know that the tools he used, the books that were important to him, all the gadgets he used to make the things he loved to do easier, his favorite mugs and cooking utensils and BBQ paraphernalia are things I’ll never use. Since neither he nor I have any use for them, they’re now just clutter in this house.
Getting rid of what no longer serves you means releasing habits, mindsets and relationships that cost more energy than they give. I can’t think of a single relationship I have right now that no longer serves me. But the habits and mindsets of being in a 50-year marriage could limit how much I enjoy life in the future.
Don’t get me wrong, being in a 50-year marriage with Randy was wonderful. Familiarity breeds complacency though. I wrote a blog post once about how you just stop seeing things in your home after a while. Often that becomes clutter you’re immune to. Now that Randy’s gone, I am seeing with fresh eyes the things he, but not I, was attached to.
The mindset that Randy’s belongings live here because Randy lives here no longer serves me. The habit of keeping a backstock of non-perishable food and two very well thought out and stocked Go-Bags in anticipation of Armageddon no longer serves me. Having 5 different outdoor propane cooking appliances no longer serves me. Collecting cool and interesting old things just because their old no longer serves me. Bringing home extra napkins from restaurants no longer serves me. You get the idea.
So, I’m pondering my mindsets and habits with new eyes these days. When I see Randy’s things that no longer serve me, I’m going to do my best to let them go. Some will be harder than others. Some may feel a little like I’m betraying him. I’ll take all of that into account as I work over the upcoming year to make this MY home rather than OUR home. (Don’t worry, it’ll still always be Grathen’s Last Resort.)
I’ll never, ever stop loving Randy, but he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t all that crazy about his junk. You know what they say…you never see a hearse pulling a U-Haul. Too bad he couldn’t take it with him.
P.S. This morning is garbage day in my neighborhood. Randy loved to go around and see what people were discarding. Often, to my disgust, he’d drive back and pick up something he thought he could use in the future. I channeled my inner Randy today and brought home a container of hundreds of corks someone put out for the trash pick-up. My friend Carla was here last week, and we discussed a new craft project using corks. I picked them up for her. And I can hear Randy saying….”See? See? You never know when you’ll need something you can use.” He would have been proud of me and that makes me laugh.
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