dishes. Somehow I managed to wash the whole stack without breaking any. It was miraculous.
After Tyler went to bed, I decided to switch my focus. I went online to research dogs. How to pick the right one for us, how much did food and vet bills run. I quickly learned that millions of dogs and cats were euthanized each year because they weren’t adopted. That settled it. We’d get a shelter dog as soon as the gym membership ended.
The next day at work, I told Barb my plan. “I’m planning to adopt a dog soon. You have any idea how much vet bills might be?”
She looked perplexed. “That depends, sweetie. It varies so much, depending on what health issues the animal has. With Shadow, for instance, and the cancer… “
Barb stopped mid-sentence, and began fidgeting with her hands. “Well, what you need to do is buy pet insurance. They have policies with three levels: basic, regular, and deluxe.”
“Okay,” I said, truly appreciating her advice. “I’ll do that.”
As Barb walked away I felt terrible. She couldn’t even talk about her
dog
having cancer in front of me. I was growing tired of making people uncomfortable. Although I was still struggling with depression, I didn’t want to appear pitiful. I made a mental note to try and be more of my old self again, which I might be able to do, if only I could remember who she was.
That night, I curled up in bed, wearing my comfiest pajamas. As I lay in the dark, I wondered: Do I pity myself?
I considered the way I interacted with others. I didn’t think so. I was unhappy to be a widow, to be in this position, but I wasn’t aware of anything I was doing to appear pitiful.
I turned over and fluffed my pillow. I guess if I really wanted to be honest with myself, I’d have to admit I was doing one thing that invited pity. I was grieving too long, or at least longer than what my friends and co-workers thought was appropriate. Part of me felt angry at them. I mean, I didn’t know there was a time limit on these things. Was I supposed to just pretend I’m okay when I’m not?
They didn’t have a clue.
Sadly, my friends were the first to go after Justin’s death. After the cheering up campaign was unsuccessful, they began calling less and less. Sometimes I went along with them, because I felt I should. But there’s nothing lamer than hanging out with a single mom who’s also a widow. Add broke to the mix and you’ve got yourself a genuine friend deflector—I couldn’t blame them.
My co-workers were a bit more patient with me. Or maybe they had to be, since they had to sit next to me each day to receive their paychecks. It wasn’t like we hung out in our free time. They’d invited me, though. And in time, tried to ease me back into life with casual mentions of single men they knew.
My family, on the other hand, was always there for me. I never felt judged for going to the cemetery. They never tried fixing me up with someone else. They just let me be. I guess since Tyler didn’t know I still visited Justin, what it really meant was that my mom was there for me. She was amazing.
I felt terrible not confiding in her about Sabrina.
As the evening went on, I lay awake, thinking about Tyler talking to his dad, how he’d wished happiness for me. My sad life must be obvious if even a child could notice.
Of course, there was Sabrina, my new “friend” bringing me happiness. I looked over at the alarm clock. Even at one in the morning I could be a smartass. She wasn’t a real friend. When you’re friends with someone it’s supposed to be fun, not filled with a general sense of foreboding.
Maybe I was pitiful.
I pulled the comforter over my head, trying to make it all go away.
It didn’t. And I couldn’t sleep. I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of orange juice, and sat down at the computer to research pet insurance.
I settled on ASPCA pet insurance. I knew the prices, and had all the info on pet food. Soon we would be dog owners.
The
After Tyler went to bed, I decided to switch my focus. I went online to research dogs. How to pick the right one for us, how much did food and vet bills run. I quickly learned that millions of dogs and cats were euthanized each year because they weren’t adopted. That settled it. We’d get a shelter dog as soon as the gym membership ended.
The next day at work, I told Barb my plan. “I’m planning to adopt a dog soon. You have any idea how much vet bills might be?”
She looked perplexed. “That depends, sweetie. It varies so much, depending on what health issues the animal has. With Shadow, for instance, and the cancer… “
Barb stopped mid-sentence, and began fidgeting with her hands. “Well, what you need to do is buy pet insurance. They have policies with three levels: basic, regular, and deluxe.”
“Okay,” I said, truly appreciating her advice. “I’ll do that.”
As Barb walked away I felt terrible. She couldn’t even talk about her
dog
having cancer in front of me. I was growing tired of making people uncomfortable. Although I was still struggling with depression, I didn’t want to appear pitiful. I made a mental note to try and be more of my old self again, which I might be able to do, if only I could remember who she was.
That night, I curled up in bed, wearing my comfiest pajamas. As I lay in the dark, I wondered: Do I pity myself?
I considered the way I interacted with others. I didn’t think so. I was unhappy to be a widow, to be in this position, but I wasn’t aware of anything I was doing to appear pitiful.
I turned over and fluffed my pillow. I guess if I really wanted to be honest with myself, I’d have to admit I was doing one thing that invited pity. I was grieving too long, or at least longer than what my friends and co-workers thought was appropriate. Part of me felt angry at them. I mean, I didn’t know there was a time limit on these things. Was I supposed to just pretend I’m okay when I’m not?
They didn’t have a clue.
Sadly, my friends were the first to go after Justin’s death. After the cheering up campaign was unsuccessful, they began calling less and less. Sometimes I went along with them, because I felt I should. But there’s nothing lamer than hanging out with a single mom who’s also a widow. Add broke to the mix and you’ve got yourself a genuine friend deflector—I couldn’t blame them.
My co-workers were a bit more patient with me. Or maybe they had to be, since they had to sit next to me each day to receive their paychecks. It wasn’t like we hung out in our free time. They’d invited me, though. And in time, tried to ease me back into life with casual mentions of single men they knew.
My family, on the other hand, was always there for me. I never felt judged for going to the cemetery. They never tried fixing me up with someone else. They just let me be. I guess since Tyler didn’t know I still visited Justin, what it really meant was that my mom was there for me. She was amazing.
I felt terrible not confiding in her about Sabrina.
As the evening went on, I lay awake, thinking about Tyler talking to his dad, how he’d wished happiness for me. My sad life must be obvious if even a child could notice.
Of course, there was Sabrina, my new “friend” bringing me happiness. I looked over at the alarm clock. Even at one in the morning I could be a smartass. She wasn’t a real friend. When you’re friends with someone it’s supposed to be fun, not filled with a general sense of foreboding.
Maybe I was pitiful.
I pulled the comforter over my head, trying to make it all go away.
It didn’t. And I couldn’t sleep. I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of orange juice, and sat down at the computer to research pet insurance.
I settled on ASPCA pet insurance. I knew the prices, and had all the info on pet food. Soon we would be dog owners.
The
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