........ or at least that's all it appears to be. Right?
Yeah, that's what I thought, too.
A very long, very bright extension cord.
One day last week I noticed that some of our shrubs were looking like they had "just woke up hair"(yes, I do have some "shrubbery", for those of you who know what that means! :)
Branches were sticking up at embarrassingly odd angles ...... kind of like something out of a Dr. Seuss book.
So I decided to give them a trim, before I received an ugly note from our home owners' association (don't get me started).
I hauled out the hedge trimmer and the extension cord to get the job done.
But then something hit me ...... and I was stopped cold.
The extension cord was not just an extension cord.
As improbable as it seems, it was a "wave".
Not a huge wave, but enough of one to really stop me in my tracks and take a few deep breaths.
You see, Jim was the last person to use, and thus wind, this cord.
It was perfectly and tightly wrapped around the plastic frame.
Still tightly wound after he last used it ...... 5 years ago (which I realize gives you more of a mental picture of what our shrubs looked like :)
When I reached up to take the cord off of the shelf, I never suspected that it would be anything more than an extension cord.
I didn't see that wave coming, so it hit me from out of nowhere.
And as I sit here and try to tell you this story, it seems very silly and rather difficult to understand, as well as to write.
But I know that you get it.
Or at least I hope you do.
It makes more sense in my head than it does in written form.
But I'm going to forge ahead and hope that it makes sense to someone else, too.
No one had touched that cord since Jim had.
And for some odd reason ...... that realization hit me like a wave.
I was going to have to unwind that cord, thus erasing yet another sign that Jim had existed.
I was going to have to un-do something he had done.
And even though it was a silly orange extension cord, it mattered.
I stood there in my yard, letting the wave wash over me.
If a neighbor had been watching, he or she would probably have wondered why I was hesitating so long ...... just standing there staring at a cord in my hands.
And if someone had asked me what I was doing, I would've replied, "Remembering."
Because that's exactly what I was doing.
This wave that had snuck up on me wasn't the usual type that threatens to knock you to your knees ...... and seems to suck all of the air out of your lungs.
It carried several emotions with it, as they usually do.
But it also carried memories.
And they were good.
As were most of the emotions.
I think it was the first time I didn't mind getting hit by one of the waves.
I still hesitated about unwinding the cord, but not for very long.
Yes, unwinding it would be un-doing one more thing Jim had left behind.
But now I know that there are very many things he left here that cannot be undone.
Like our children (who can't be undone even though there are sometimes brief moments when I might wish otherwise!).
Thankfully, the different ways that they each look like Jim cannot be undone.
Nor can the love that he filled them with.
Or the lessons he taught them.
The impact that he made in our community and the legacy he left behind in our school district can't be undone.
They might one day be forgotten, but not for a very long time.
The time that he spent on a weekly basis with a group of middle school boys in our church can't be undone.
Nor can all of the Indian Princess/Indian Guide campout memories he gave to our children.
Or his wonderful, dry, sarcastic sense of humor.
And, no matter how much time goes by, or how many things change during that time ...... no matter who may come into my life, and into my heart ...... the love he gave me, and the woman it grew me into, will never be undone.
Ever.
I am who I am today because of him.
The unconditional love, support, acceptance, accountability, security ...... and confidence he gave to me will be with me for the rest of my life. And with my children.
So yes, that extension cord was more than what it seemed.
It was a wave.
But it was a wave that left me smiling, rather than crying.
And I'll take that kind of wave any day.
:)
Yes, I understand. Somehow the thing that they touch makes them seem less "disappeared", doesn't it? Thanks for the post.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your lovely and meaningful post. It was timely as I am getting ready to leave the home my spouse and I shared for more than thirty five years. Not easy. There has been comfort in living where he once was.
ReplyDeleteTo be packed up is a orange cord just like the one pictured with your post! Just looking at tools brings waves of memories. Many of these items will not accompany me to a new home; the children have taken what they want. I will miss these reminders, these waves. I will miss this evidence of him. I will miss what he touched.
You wrote "I was going to have to unwind that cord, thus erasing yet another sign that Jim had existed. I was going to have to un-do something he had done.And even though it was a silly orange extension cord, it mattered."
So true.
Our spouses remain remain in our hearts and that can never be unwound. We were lucky to be loved well and to love well. And they touched us and that can never be taken away.
Thank you, Anon. I'm glad that it was timely for you, too. And how interesting that so many of us had waves with orange cords recently!
DeleteYes, they do remain in our hearts, and continue to live there with each beat. We were blessed to have been loved well.
:)
I, too, understand. Been cleaning out his storage shed, and finding all sorts of triggers. He placed everything that is in there, it's taken me almost 3 years to start sorting it out. Funny (not) how the drills and tires and lumber and nails make me cry to handle, knowing he put them all there.
ReplyDelete"I am who I am today because of him". How true, and much better to focus on the positive aspect of our lives together than what is no longer. Hope to be smiling in my waves someday like you, Janine.
Thank you, Cathy. Keep hoping ...... with certainty. For you will be here, smiling in your waves, too.
DeleteYou're not too far from there. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.
I'll be here to hug you when you arrive.
:)
Thank you, Tracey. I was afraid that this post might seem too "silly", or even a bit insane. I'm pretty sure many non-widowed people would think that. And yes, seeing something just as they left it does make them seem less "disappeared". I like that term. :)
ReplyDeleteI have a bulletin board in his office. He pinned everything on there. The pictures and the memos and the drawing plans for building projects.
ReplyDeleteThe fact he touched those things, that he made them, dreamed them - make them seem important.
I love how you said somethings can never be unwound. As time goes on I find that i worry I will lose the memories. I feel sometimes i have already lost so many.
Yet if I spend all of my time "back there" where we were together, I am constantly sad. I am having to go forward to live.
It is good to remember the important things will never be unwound.
Thanks Janine, you always touch on the aspects of grief that are so relatable.
Anon,
DeleteThank you for your kind words about my posts. I'm always SO grateful when someone can relate to what I write. It makes me feel less lonely, too.
You're right .... you can't spend all of your time back there any longer. It was OK for a time, but now that time has come and gone. It's time for you to face forward and put one foot in front of the other. You may not move every day, but you'll start moving most days. I promise.
And you'll have plenty of good things in your heart that will move forward with you.
:)
My husband was a tool man; tools for this and that and hobbies too, so now the house and garage have been three years without his organizing touch to keep those things neat & tidy. I've tried to put things back as he always would, but sometimes it's been just too painful to be using his tools, so I put them back in a hurry, 'sort of' where they go, knowing all too well, he'd be telling me "you've been into my tools again, Susan B!" because I didn't get them back excactly right. Then we'd both laugh!
ReplyDeleteHe had the bulletin board pinned with Far Side cartoons, photos, quotes, important numbers, etc., and it hurt to break it down. I saved most of the goodun's and will reassemble them in a collage. I needed to reclaim his office to make a combo guest room-office so some things just had to go.
It's been interesting how over time, bit by bit, I've found grateful loving homes for some of his fancies and favorites. Nothing is happening overnight, but I think that's for the best. It gives me time to think about things carefully. And we all need that luxury if it can be afforded.
Glad you felt motivated to tackle the shrubs, they will respond gratefully. Also gives you a bit of can-do attitude, greatly helpful!
Hi Sue,
DeleteYou're spot on ...... we need to take our time as we "undo" some of there things. Time affords us the luxury of stopping every few seconds and remembering what each item was used for, when he used it, what he made with it ..... all such good memories, usually.
And my shrubs did quite well, thanks. :)
Well Janine the cord may not have left you crying but it left me sobbing. I had a similar experience over the weekend. I decided to gut my husbands workship after three years since his death. I was struck by the simple things I found stuffed in drawers. The care he took in organizing his fishing reels and the plastic bins of lawnmower parts placed on the shelves. As I got rid of all the unnecessary things to make room for MY stuff it was difficult to justify. Another little bit of him was torn away. But the bikes fit and the camping gear has a home. I know where to get a screw driver now. I'm happy for me that I took some ownership but so sad that it had to be done. thank you for your post. I get it.
ReplyDeleteOh, Anon, I'm sorry that it left you sobbing. I guess you must've needed a really good sobbing, right?
DeleteBut thank you for taking the time to tell me that you "got it". That means so very much. I need to know that I connect with all of you, too. So thank you for that.
Take your time when going through his things. There's no rush. Take your time and remember.
:)
Not only do I get it but I have had a wave triggered by a bright orange extension cord! My husband, a photographer by trade, had a ton of those. I've used the smaller ones for one thing or another but a couple of weeks ago I had to dig out the extra long one from the bottom of the storage bin so we could get the weedeater to the back fence. He had a system for the way he tied them so they wouldn't tangle, something I'm never careful enough to do. I realized that the knot in the rope that held it together just right was last tied by his hand. So little is the same now and I totally understand the feeling that I was about to undo one more thing. Noticing made me smile too. Oh, and in his honor I retied it the right way when the weeds were vanquished.
ReplyDeleteHi Tamara,
DeleteSo yet another orange extension cord triggers a wave! Whodda thunk? :)
And I'm very proud of you for being able to re-tie it. You're a better woman than I.
:)
I remember unpacking our Christmas ornaments in 2008 -- about 15 months after Steve died -- and realizing that when we packed those away in 2006, I never thought I'd be unpacking them by myself, crying through each and every one, after his death in August of 2007. If I could have left each one in their nice tissue paper, untouched from *his* touch, I would have. HUGS Janine. I get it.
ReplyDeleteHi Karen,
DeleteThanks for commenting and thanks even more for the hugs. They feel almost as good as the ones in real life. So I'll take them anytime.
Thank you for sharing.
:)
Thank you Janine! You described the feelings so well, it is the little things I miss the most. It's like having the shirt or pillow that still has his smell...a piece of him still there.
ReplyDeleteAnon,
DeleteThank YOU so much! I'm glad that I could describe the feelings that you, too, feel. It means so much to know that I'm connecting with at least one person.
Thank you again.
:)
The reason I look forward to Wednesdays, Janine's right-on posts. Another sign that we all speak the same language as this didn't seem silly at all but perfectly accurate as the "little" things that still lurk. How far you have come in your journey to appreciate the special charm now and shift the pradigm of grief. Thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteOh, Anon ..... what a wonderful and kind thing to say! I've never been told that someone looks forward to Wednesdays because of my posts. Wow .... that feels great. :)
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you for your encouragement in understanding what I wrote ...... and not thinking it was silly.
You made me feel great!
Yes, I have come a very, very, very long way. I wasn't always sure that I'd make it, but here I am. Here ...... and happy.
And I love sharing that.
:)
Yours was a cord-mine was Handy-Man, woodworking,Mechinacel tools. I had an Estate Auction person, take it ALL plus 2 show-cases he built- thought it would be easy (WRONG)!!! the end of an era.It just seems like a little piece is chipped away each time.ONE day it WILL be ok- GOD has been by my side all the way! One day I HOPE I can say, I'M Happy.
ReplyDeleteI too totally get the emotional punch of finding that mundane thing that was last touched by his hand. I am still in that place where I would have put the cord back without unwinding it. I spent almost two years not touching anything that my husband had touched. I knew I couldn't continue like that, living in a museum of The Day Before He Died, but I couldn't bear to lose the record of his presence. So I found a compromise: I got a camera and a notebook, and before I move anything I take a photo of it and write a note about it. Photojournalism! Once it's documented, I feel able, little by little,to change things. Crazy? Yes, to the outside world. But your post, and all the comments on it, made me feel that you all might understand.
ReplyDeleteAnd we totally do.
DeleteI think that's a great idea. Wish I'd thought of it. Thanks for coming here and sharing that. I bet more people will start using their cameras and notepads now.
:)
When I read these posts, I feel more normal. I didn't know how to turn off the sprinkler clock, I finally had to unplug it. It broke my heart to do so, I sat on the garage stairs and cried. The garage stairs just outside of the laundry room where I found him on the floor just eight weeks ago yesterday. I remember how hard Laddie worked to repair the broken sprinkler system when we moved into this house. He could fix anything, he was working on a broken sprinkler when he suffered a massive heart attack and collapsed. I haven't been able to touch his tools or any of his stuff in the garage, I guess it will just have to be an unorganized mess - as he liked it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Phyllis, for commenting. I'm glad that you feel more "normal" when you come here. When you comment and show your support and that you get it, you make me feel more "normal", too.
DeleteSo thank you for that.
Don't worry about not being able to touch his stuff yet. You're not ready. Everyone is ready, or not ready, at a different time than everyone else. When you're ready, you'll know it. No one will have to tell you (don't let them) ..... you will know it in your heart. And you'll be able to do it. Until then, an unorganized mess is great. :)
Absolutely wonderful Janine for making me feel like I am not insane. The last meal my husband cooked in March of 2010 was a turkey breast. 6 hours later he suffered a fatal stroke. I took some of the leftover turkey and put it in the freezer to be consumed at a later date. The kids and I never ate it and it remains in a small package in the freezer. Although not eatible, it is a reminder of the excellent cook he was and the gormet meals he smoothered us with. Another reminder of his existence and my "resistence" in letting the memory be tossed into the trash!
ReplyDeleteDear, sweet Anon,
DeleteThank YOU for making ME feel that i'm not the one who's insane. When I wrote this post I thought it was going to fall flat. But each and every one of you who commented told me otherwise. Thank you so much.
As much as I help you to feel "normal" on this path, you all help me to feel that way, too.
Yes, I may be further than most of you, but every once in a while, I, too, need to know that my feelings are ok .... and that I'm not insane.
You all do that for me, and for that, I can't thank you enough.
:)
Im only 5 weeks into my widow journey, so there are many "orange extension cord" experiences going on in my life each day with more to come. Like you I hate undoing what he had done last. I packed up some of his shoes this week and I didnt know if I would throw up or faint (I ended up doing neither).
ReplyDeleteToday is my birthday although Im NOT going to see it as my "first birthday without my husband"...in 2005 he had a midlife crisis of Biblical proportions and left me and I was very very alone and abandoned :::by his choice::: that birthday ...I decided I suffered enough that year to cover this year's misery too .
He died from the complications of an illness he contracted in 2005...in the intervening 7 years, he came home and rebuilt the bridges he had burned (and Im certain its easier to build new bridges than fix burned ones) with me & the kids, he renewed his Faith and became a good man. 7 is the number of completion...GOd blessed him with enough time to complete and then he left. sigh....
Tammy,
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing so much of your heart and your life. I'm sorry that you're here. I'm sorry that you already experienced a loss before this loss. But I'm glad that he came to his senses and came back home, so that you could have memories of the good man he became.
Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Just as you were surprised that you didn't throw up or faint last week, you'll keep being surprised by your own perseverance and strength. You won't faint nearly as often as you think you will.
And we're here to cheer your progress on.
:)
To you all you give me strength! My boyfriend of 10 years died suddenly of a massive stroke just 3 months ago today! I am an unwed widow, I am envious of your stories of having thier things to remind you of his existence. He was in the construction busness and the story of the way your husband wound the cord. Well it just gave me memories. His family has taken over his house I will never get to go there and see those thing again... For they have moved them without me.... But I hold on tight to my memories..... Thank you all for giving me another!!!!! Hugs to all of you for your stories!
ReplyDeleteAnon,
DeleteI'm glad that you found this site ...... and us. I'm sorry that his family didn't consider your feelings, and your loss. But memories are ours to be treasured .... and no one can take them away. Keep holding tight to them. And keep coming here to read and to know that you're not alone.