Wednesday’s are long days for me. I have to get up long before dawn to take the trash out so the critters don’t get into it. (I’m still working on a raccoon-proof trash can.) I had a laundry list of things to accomplish yesterday and before I knew it, the sun was setting and I hadn’t made it to the grocery store. That doesn’t count the drive back out to the farm. I needed to settle down and catch my breath. My favorite grocery store is just across the river in Ohio and I remembered a beautiful park nearby with a great walking path. I headed there and walked the long outer loop, stopping to read the names of the individuals and businesses who sponsor the large planters hanging from the lamp posts. By the time I got back to the truck, the sun was giving off the last bit of light and I grabbed this shot. While I love living at the farm, this river holds big magic for me and I needed her energy after a long and busy day.
I made a new friend yesterday. She found me a couple of weeks ago, actually through a connection I’d made earlier in the year after the New York Times article came out. I love synchronicity. This woman is creating a new podcast and wanted to interview me for it. While I love doing interviews, they do force me to dive back into my loss and it stirs up feelings. Not a bad thing. Just an emotional check point that I don’t visit quite as often anymore. One of the questions she asked me was regarding those first few hours after losing Mr. Virgo. It wasn’t one of those awful reporter kind of questions you see on the 10:00 news…like, “So, Mrs. Smith…what did it feel like when you saw the alligator eat your husband?” I hate that. No, this was an empathetic plea…”How the hell do you deal with something like this?” I’ve been re-hashing my answer all afternoon and I can’t come up with anything better than what I told her. I answered her in typical Marshmallow Ranch fashion…with a story.
That terrible day, the cardiologist came out to tell me they did everything they could but the damage was too great and they could not save my husband. My very first response was to empathize with him because he looked like he got rode hard and put away wet. He was physically and mentally exhausted after working feverishly for three hours. I thanked him and told him I knew firsthand what he had just gone through and I appreciated his efforts. I told her about being led into the room and seeing Mr. Virgo lying covered with a clean sheet…and his hair was slicked back. Then, right there at that critical juncture of the story…I started laughing. I apologized and assured her the experience was truly horrific and there was nothing funny about it at the time. And there still isn’t, save for his hair. And here’s why….
Most evenings, Mr. Virgo would stretch out on the couch with his head in my lap and I would run my fingers through that gorgeous mane of silver hair. I swear, he purred. After a half hour or so, he’d get up to go make his tea and his hair would be slicked back. I would laugh at him and call him Guido because he looked like some sort of mafioso in a Saturday afternoon B movie. When I walked into the room to see Mr. Virgo and they had his hair slicked back, I said ” Oh, my God…NO! He looks like Guido!!!”
Time has eased the pain of that memory and allowed me to blend it with the fun memory of stroking his hair and turning this handsome Irishman into an Italian mob boss. And yes, I laughed at the absurdity of what happens to your brain in grief and how you fixate on the stupidest things. It allowed me to explain “grief brain”. I’ve worried all afternoon about what people might think when they hear me laughing after such a serious question as “How did you handle that?” But there is nothing crazier than trying to absorb the news that the love of your life is gone and your world lies shattered at your feet. I think people will understand that…especially when it happens to them. That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing in the first place. I’m a grief mentor. I’m here to tell you there is NOTHING predicable about grief….except that it’s totally unpredictable.
The interview went well, I totally bonded with the interviewer and I am going to make her join up and go girl camping. I got my shopping done and dodged about thirty to forty deer on the drive back to the farm and today is another day.
❤️
“We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.”
2 Corinthians 5:8 NIV