Journeying through widowhood, one of the things I miss the most are the familiar routines and predictability that VST and I shared throughout the years. Even though we enjoyed spontaneous travel, our basic routines were set. Coffee, followed by breakfast, followed by his walk and my chores. Everything had a time and place. When he died, my world was left in an upside down heap, waiting for me to sort things out and a begin again.
Through many months as a new widow, I’ve found that some routines remain the same. Coffee still comes first, followed by blogging. Early morning writing is the most rewarding part of my day. A time to sort through my thoughts, sharing those that have been the most helpful on my journey helps me heal. Writing gives me time and space to share precious memories of VST and me. My early morning voice shares grief while I mourn to the setting moon, as the new day begins. Purging a new day’s sadness before daylight helps me to reach for the happiness I choose.
Perhaps Covid has robbed you of your routines. Simply enjoying a day of shopping might be disrupted by new store hours. In my state, eating at a restaurant is limited to parties of four. Weddings lists have been trimmed. Funerals occur on Zoom. We are left longing for hugs from those we love most. The predictable laughter at family gatherings has been silenced, as we wait for a declaration that the pandemic is over.
Death certainly has robbed me of the predictability I came to expect from VST throughout our marriage. VST loved his schedules and kept to them. It was a comfort to do the same things at the same time during the day. Schedules helped us use our day in the most effective way, not wasting precious time. In the end, it mattered not, because VST’s forever stopped with the beat of his heart. The loneliness of my forever is a glaring reminder that familiar routines of the past are gone for good.
Living alone, many routines can become flexible. Lunch no longer occurs at a set time, but rather when I get hungry. Could be at 10 AM or 1 PM. I remember VST would look for lunch like clockwork at 11:30 AM, often wandering to the kitchen asking me if we were on our own for the meal. Dinner is predictably lonely and quiet. The drone of the television can’t erase the fact that I miss my meal-mate.
Rebuilding my life in small steps, scheduling my more difficult days has been an answer. Using my daily planner, each day, I think of three small tasks that need to be accomplished. These are jotted down and crossed off when accomplished. For weeks, I may not need the scaffolding of a written routine to get through the day. Then, grief has other plans.
As the days go by, remember there is a comfort to routines, even if they are new and it takes awhile to establish them. New routines bring a different look to our days. The predictability of spring’s warmth will keep me searching for new and valuable routines. Until then, predictably, I will do the very best I can to stay the course on this journey through widowhood.