And what do we learn from this?

I changed the domain name of this blog.

Originally, I called it “nontoxicwoman.” Because I want to write about how I’m trying to be a nontoxic person. …. I decided hey, maybe I should Google it …And the first thing that came up was a site about tampons. Nontoxic ones, I guess. Oops.

I changed the domain name of this blog.

Originally, I called it “nontoxicwoman.” Because I really do want to write about how I’m trying to be a nontoxic person. Because caring for my husband during his terminal illness, and losing him at only 54, made me realize that time is precious, that love is the only thing that really matters and that I’ve wasted far too much of my life being judgmental, impatient, patronizing, superior, contemptuous and dismissive. Stressed-out and telegraphing that to everyone around me. Toxic. Yecch. Don’t want to be her anymore.

So I started out with “nontoxicwoman” because the domain was available and it seemed descriptive. And after I got it all set up, I decided hey, maybe I should Google it and see what happens!

And the first thing that came up was a site about tampons. Nontoxic ones, I guess.

Oops. Not really wanting my readers (all me of them) to associate this blog with tampons, I decided to change the name of it.

So I spent the money to buy another domain called “ridiculouswoman.” Because it was available, and because I’m trying to write a book in which I describe myself as a ridiculous woman, which I am, frequently. Sometimes even intentionally. But this time I Googled it first.

And discovered that there’s some kind of online movie in Spanish called “Ridicula” which is translated “Ridiculous Woman” and is something about how a woman defies expectations about what a woman her age can do. I didn’t watch it. I’m sure it’s fine and everything, but hey, they didn’t buy the domain.

So I bought it anyway.

The book I’m trying to write is about my marriage and how I behaved while caring for my dying husband and it is nowhere near finished yet, so we’ll leave that for another day. Because there are plenty of other ways I’m ridiculous, so for now I’ll write about those.

For example, chickens.

Backyard chickens.

Whatever possessed me?

 

 

 

 

 

Coffeemaker

What’s important is love. All the rest is noise.

I’m going to have to get a new coffeemaker.

Standing in the newly remodeled kitchen that he lived long enough to use, to make his last pot of chicken soup, his last vat of spaghetti sauce and his last signature mashed potatoes, I’m looking at the coffeemaker.

Why the hell do we have a 12-cup coffeemaker?

We never drank that much coffee, ever. We never have (no, wait, I mean “had”) anyone over for coffee. If I made four cups we’d still throw 2 away.

So I guess I’d better get a new coffeemaker.

A one-cup-at-at-time coffeemaker.

So I got one. And now I’m filling it three times every morning, drinking three cups of coffee. More than I ever did before. He died, I mean. Before he died.

Died, and now I’m a widow. And a middle-aged Mom to a young adult on the spectrum.

It’s been over a year now, and I’m trying to figure out how to live the rest of my life.  I’ve learned a lot from all this about what’s important.

And what’s important is love. All the rest of it is just noise.

So that’s what this is about – learning to live a life based on love after loss – getting to the other side of grief as a better person. I can’t do much (well, I can sing, and I can improvise and I hope we’ll decide that I can write, and I’m pretty good at making people laugh, sometimes even intentionally) but in the face of everything that has happened and especially the Things-Much-Bigger-Than-Me-That-I-Feel-Helpless-In-The-Face-Of, I started to think there wasn’t really anything I could do to make this world a better place.

But there is.

I can love. I can live a life where every day I try (and believe me, it takes a lot of effort for me – which you’ll see as we get to know each other better) to be someone who makes the choice, as my pastor says (and it is a choice, requiring conscious and continuous effort, for me, anyway) to live as a source of love in this world. And laughter. Maybe some of that, too,

So when I’m on my third cup of coffee in the morning, I’m asking myself, “how can I put some love into this world today?”

Let’s start by not putting not-love into it.

Meaning trying to be a nontoxic woman.

We’ll get to the ridiculous part next.