My mother became a widow at the age of sixty-five and died at the age of ninety-eight.
Widowhood was a life-changing event that closed some doors for her but opened others. No longer would she be relating with the couples that gathered for bridge games, bowling, partying . . . the things that couples enjoy doing as couples. The other doors that opened for my mother, she had to open herself and being an extrovert, she was energized by being with people.
Mother enjoyed yard sales and she new that if she wanted to yard-sale for a whole day or even a weekend she would call her widow friend who was always searching hither and yon for antiques, perhaps a pink glass salt shaker to match the pepper shaker she already owned and could sell for a profit as a pair. That woman knew her antiques. If mother only wanted to browse at yard sales for an afternoon she would call another friend and then she would look for such things as old beer steins to fill that empty shelf above her kitchen cupboards.
Now a widow, mother had lost her euchre, bridge, canasta partner but did not give up playing cards. She played bridge either in the afternoon or evening almost every day of the week and had different friends in different groups who kept honing their minds and mathematical skills. While they were all keen to play, they knew they were there to have fun.
Mom and dad used to take a holiday trip every year but it was always by car. So what was she to do now. Well mom had different friends she called on for different kinds of trips. One group of friends loved to take special tours and so she travelled to the rockies, to California, to our east coast, to England, to Portugal and celebrated her seventieth birthday in Hawaii. Another group of friends liked to pool their resources and spend money for a month’s accommodations in Florida where they could walk the beach in the afternoon and play bridge at night while it snowed at home.
Sundays were the loneliest days according to mom and so she had a friend or two that she would take for a ride just to see the fall colours or to go for a coffee and doughnut someplace quiet where they could share their week or update each other on family news.
And so what did I learn? I learned that when a woman has lost her best friend, her husband, life isn’t over; friendship isn’t over. No one will ever take the place of that love. But friendship is something one chooses to make happen. One can take the initiative and open the door to as many hearts as are willing to open to me for all sorts of occasions. Life is to be lived; in living fully we learn to love and to be loved.
Elaine Cole, CSJ