Thoughts from the Widow’s Lott-Your Tag is Showing

There was a point in my life I decided that if someone’s shirt tag were showing I would tell him or her. I thought that since I would want someone to kindly take me aside if my tag was showing, then I would do the same for others. I cannot even recall if I have done it or not. Then, came the stupid fashion of wearing sweatshirts inside out and that drove me nuts because those who did not care what their size was casually participated in this fashion faux. The rest of us coolly hid our tags. There was something disrespectful and slothful that wearing your shirt inside out screamed.

Widowhood has taught me that I am a slob. Suddenly, I look the part of the disrespectful and slothful person. Who cares if the fridge is cleaned out, the dirty clothes are on the floor, the laundry is done, the floor is dirty, or if the place is dusty. Who cares if I eat breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed? Who cares if I spill breakfast on my shirt, there is no one in the house that I need to clean up for, so why not wear it? It is a pity when I have passed a mirror and really looked at the stranger I see, my hair is rumpled, I wear no make up, there is food on the front of my pajamas and my skin is wrinkled and gray.

It is haunting what a waster I have become. The only time I clean the house is when I am expecting company. Just before their arrival I go into overdrive and clean and straighten up the house so that no one really knows how I live. And, I have learned that you don’t really have to clean as much as hide. Hiding can take the place of cleaning and it is another way of totally putting things off that you really don’t want to do in the first place. Dirty clothes can be hidden in the washing machine, papers and bills can be shoved into a drawer or box, and dirty dishes can be hidden in the dishwasher or the fridge. This is exactly the life I threatened my children that they would end up living if they did not learn how to make their bed and clean up. That is what I have become.

I don’t dust and I say it is so I can measure the size of an earthquake, depending upon how far objects have moved from their original place, but that’s not really the truth. The more I stay in my pajamas, the less laundry I have to do, but there’s only me so I need clothes for laundry. And, I find myself spending allot of time looking for those things I hid.

Although lately, I have started to notice that getting dressed in clean clothes, and combing through my hair feels kinda good. . . especially when I brush my teeth. I have even caught myself dusting, but only once. Maybe this is part of the normal grieving process and my “slob” days are only temporary.