Eight Months and Counting

This week marks the eighth month mark...yes, it's hard to believe that it has been eight months since my husband's passing. I've had good days and not so good days. Some days I wish I could just talk to him again...yes, I wish I could just talk to him and tell him how my day was...tell him that I'm doing okay...but that I miss him so much.

Some days I miss him so much that I go into his closet and I stand there in silence...and I smell his scent so that I can remember the way he was. Yes, his scent still lingers in the closet. So I step in every once in a while...and I smell him...and I think about how his spirit lives on within me...and within our children.

He would be especially proud of me today. I finally made the diet Jello that he always used to make. I put the little mandarin orange halves into the strawberry banana Jello...just like he used to do. Then, I stirred it up for exactly 2 minutes after I poured the boiling water into the bowl. The Jello actually dissolved (it never worked for me before...no...I was not a good Jello-maker...the powder never seemed to properly dissolve when I tried to make Jello when my husband was alive...so I always let him make it). Then I added the cold water, some orange juice and the orange halves. And I put it in the refrigerator to chill. I bought Cool Whip to put on top of my Jello...just like he used to do. He would be so proud of me that my Jello turned out just as good as his Jello always did.

So many moments we shared...little Jello moments.

So many stories we shared...25 years worth of stories that I can now savor.

So many pictures we captured...I love to take out all our photo albums so I can remember what life was like when we were a twosome and then a threesome when our daughter was born and then a foursome when our son came along.

I closed up the safe deposit box today. The box that my husband opened almost 25 years ago when we were first married. And I gave back the key. It's time to open a new box closer to home...for my new life now.

September will be here next week...the little purple flowers are blooming again on the green plants in front of the house...and everything is going to be okay.

Judi

Betwixt and Between

I'm catching up on my reading this weekend and I just read about the demise of the Sigrid Olsen label at Liz Claiborne. Not that I have ever bought her clothes...but I am a fan. I'm more of a fan from the standpoint of what her clothes represent for the mature woman...the mature woman that I am. They are free-spirited...earthy fabrics...too wide for my body...but I really did love her advertisements too.

As the New York Times said, "It is a curious development in the fickle business of fashion that clothing labels like Ms. Olsen's, made by and for the baby boomer generation, are among those being hardest hit by the current economic turmoil and retail entrenchment." My other favorite labels like Ellen Tracy and Dana Buchman (again, not that I bought or could afford to buy that many of their clothes) are also being sold off.

What is happening to these lines of clothing targeted to the mature woman? I'd like to tell them about one of their targets...about me. After I read this it made me think about my passion for fashion and how betwixt and between I am as I approach the second half of my life. Don't get me wrong, I am still a fashionista who gets excited by the thought of the September issues of Vogue and InStyle...the issues that barely fit in my mailbox (glad I fixed my mailbox so it is nice and sturdy for my September mail)...but I'm not as avid a buyer as I used to be. No, I'm not. Could it be...oh dear...that my focus on fashion is shifting?

Yes, I think that is exactly it. My focus on fashion is shifting as my life is changing. I'm starting to focus more on the inner me instead of the outer me...and maybe some of my fellow mature fashionistas are doing the same. Yes, maybe that is why baby boomer fashions are hurting. My fellow baby boomer women and I have closets full of clothes after many years and shopping doesn't excite us like it used to.

Instead of running to the store to purchase a new fall skirt or sweater...I'm running to the beach to relax and watch the little sandpipers make their little footprints across the sand.

Instead of buying a new pair of shoes, I'm spending the money on reflexology for my feet so I can walk better and my body can feel better. And I'm getting pedicures so my feet look pretty while I relax and walk on the beach. (Just love those pedicures when they put my feet in the whirlpool and cut my toenails...yes, it is harder to bend over now to cut my own toenails...I cannot see them as well when I'm not wearing my progressive eyeglasses.)

Instead of splurging on an accessory, I'm splurging on a facial so my face stays firm and my wrinkles recede. (Just love those facials...and I haven't had one in awhile since I'm racing to the beach each weekend...have to put facials back on the fall 'to-do' list.)

Instead of getting excited to shop for myself, I'm excited about shopping for my 18 year old son. My son who is going off to college in a few weeks to pursue his ambitions in hospitality. Yes, I was so excited on Friday night when I bought him his first Calvin Klein gray houndstooth suit from the Men's Department at Macy's...yes, the Men's Department...not the Boy's Department. I shed tears of joy as he paraded out of the dressing room in a men's small that actually fit him...oh, how handsome he looked and will look when he goes to all his hospitality socials.

While my clothes shopping may be waning for myself, I am so proud that I have passed on my sense of style and fashionista-ness to my son...it makes me so happy to see him carrying on this important family trait. (Note: I do not want to imply that my 22 year old daughter is not a fashionista. It's just I don't have to worry about her...she has 100 percent fashionista-ness deeply inbedded in her spirit and soul...so I don't have to worry about her at all.)

Instead of picking out the colors for my fall wardrobe...I'm picking out the colors for the polymeric sand that is going to be poured on my front walkway (hopefully soon) between all the gray bricks...the bricks that now lie perfectly flat thanks to the beautiful work that my landscapers did last week. Yes, I paid a hefty sum to flatten my walkway and fix the steps that are in front of my house. And, when the landscaper told me that I would never have to pull a weed from my front walkway once the polymeric sand was laid...I jumped for joy...just like I used to jump for joy when I found a beautiful jacket or pants outfit I liked. (Note: Only this time I jumped even higher with joy for the polymeric sand is just an amazing invention.)

As I await my September fall fashion issues and I ponder the demise of Sigrid Olsen's clothing line, I am so glad to learn that Sigrid is looking into "arranging women's retreats to encourage creative discussion or teaming up with a hotel to create a Sigrid Olsen resort experience"...as the Times stated at the end of the article. I do hope she sends me an invitation...because I might just pay a visit.

Judi

Wedding Bell Blues

I'm angry...an angry widow...and I'm going to release my anger...get it off my chest...get it off my mind...so I can move on with my grieving...my grieving that I've tried so hard to manage through these past eight months...but some days...some days it is like managing through minefields.

All the books said it would happen...they said I would face a stage of grieving where I would be angry...angry at my husband because he left me. Okay, they win...I'm angry. Maybe what set it off was the family affair I went to last week...the lovely family wedding...the first wedding I had to go to without my husband by my side...yes...I prepped and primped...I highlighted my hair and I did my manicure and pedicure, and I exercised my body so I could fit into my form-fitted dress.

"You look marvelous," said the many guests. "You look marvelous," just like my husband would have said had he been sitting by my side. And as I sat alone, flanked by two other stunning and talented single women...no one asked me to dance. Nope, it sure wasn't like the wedding I had experienced the night before...the wedding in the Greek Isles...the wedding that took place in the movie Mama Mia...oh, how I wanted to put myself back a night and step into that screen where everyone was dancing...single or paired...the wedding where Meryl Streep at 50+ had multiple suitors who wanted to dance with her...despite her single status or her age.

So I kept my 50+ feet tapping to the music under the table...and I wondered what my husband was thinking about as he surely was looking down upon the celebration. I know he would have danced with me...he wasn't much for dancing...but he would have danced with me at least one dance.

It was almost midnight and as I was about to turn into a pumpkin (yes...I felt like Cinderella...well almost like Cinderella, until a friend's husband kindly asked me if I wanted to dance...but, by that time I was so angry that I just said "no thanks.") so I packed up my dancing shoes which didn't get much dancing and I headed home.

More anger...let the anger out...this is good...this is good...what else am I angry about...ah yes...the Olympics.

I'm angry that I can't watch the many Olympic sporting events that are on television this week without having my former sports addictive husband by my side...by my side to tell me who each of the Olympic medalists are and which team they are playing for and which team I should cheer for...yes...I am angry because the 2008 Olympic games are just not as enjoyable without my hubby here to cheer with...(okay, I'm also angry about all the pollution in Bejing...but I'm really mostly angry about my sports fanatic husband who is now watching the Olympics up in heaven rather than next to me.)

The anger is flowing...with a little more squeeze it should all be out.

Oh yes...I'm really angry that the Yankees are losing this season and my hubby isn't here to shout and scream at them while he watches every last game despite their losses...I used to love the way he would never give up on his Yankees...and I'm very angry that he is not here to show his support when they surely need it...just like I surely need it.

Wow...that felt good...the angry widow is letting out her anger...what else...what else...let it go.

I'm angry that I have to go to the surrogates' office and change the title on my car and my late husband's car...the cars that are in his name...I always used to be able to sign his name when he could not sign it...but now I cannot do that anymore...no...I'm angry because I cannot sign his name anymore...even though I really wasn't supposed to ever sign his name for him in the first place...but when you're married almost 25 years...it becomes easy to sign your husband's name...and now I cannot do that little signature twirl of the 'c' or 'f' anymore...yes, I'm angry.

Okay...enough anger for one night...I'm going to forgive myself for being angry...on second thought...I think I'll put on my iPod and turn my ABBA music way up...then I'm going to go in my closet and put on my dancing shoes...no more wedding bell blues for me...it's time to do some dancing...here I go...

You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the Dancing Queen

Judi

Also, be sure to check out my recent post on the 50 Something Moms - A Flash of Midlife Madness blog: Mouse in the House...And A Squirrel Visits Too

Priceless Wedding Prep

Today is the big day. The wedding day...not my wedding...no, no, no...and I'm not even in the wedding party...it's my nephew's wedding. Don't know why I am blogging when it is 8:30 am and I should be beginning my wedding prep day...so much to do to get ready. Let's see, we have to leave for the wedding at 6:30 pm...will I have enough time? The countdown begins!

The Dress or Dresses: If I really want to be accurate...I started back in March with my wedding prep when I bought my two formal dresses...my brown strapless short dress that has a puffy bubble skirt (that I absolutely love since brown is one of my favorite Color Me Beautiful colors)...and the dark indigo Laundry gown that I've decided is the winner for tonight even though indigo is not on my list of Color Me Beautiful wearable colors (the clingy, sexy gown that hugs my body and shows off all my curves, including my uneven hip that rides high from all the years of carrying heavy handbags on my left shoulder and carrying my two babies...when they were babies. Wish I had known to flip from side to side when I was a young mom and didn't develop this left hip habit...then I wouldn't have a high hip for tonight...although, I can always hold my drink in my right hand and rest it on my protruding hip if I cannot find a cocktail table during the reception!)

The dresses were a bargain at Loehmann's...highly recommend that store for formal attire...even for 50 year olds...and especially for 50 year olds who want to look like they are 30 year olds. Although after the bargain dresses, I did have to have my tailor alterations for the indigo gown and that cost me almost double the cost of the dress...but fit is very important for formal affairs...for any affairs for that matter.

Hair Yesterday: I started the wedding prep at the top of my head...first things first. I went to get my hair colored and highlighted (can't do one with out the other as my 50 year old head would attest to)...I sat for almost two hours as my hair colorist turned my sad looking locks into brilliant brown color with golden highlights. And as I waited for my locks to turn color...with the foils flipped up all over my head looking like a science experiment...I started to itch...ooh, aah...I didn't think I was going to make it through the 20 minute wait. I started to scratch my neck and then the dye got on my ears and fingers.

"What's going on," I said to my colorist, "this has never happened so intensely before." "Just put some Sweet and Low on her head," he said to his assistant D, "go ahead and sprinkle some sweet stuff on her head." Hmmm, hmmm, Sweet and Low on my head, add some Sweet and Low to my head, hope my hair will turn out okay, I worried. Luckily, it did the trick and neutralized my head so I could finish up this part of the wedding prep. Off I went sweeter and with more bounce in my step thanks to the better body in my hair.

Nails and Feet: Must soon get ready to do get my nails and feet prepped for the wedding...wish my finger nails weren't so bitten down...but I will not use fake nails...not for me...don't want to ruin my nails even further...my nails will be au naturele tonight...just with a little polish...what goes with indigo...think I will use a little shimmery polish this time...and will have to get that pedicure too since my feet will show through my silver sandals (the sandals with the mid-sized heels that I bought to go with the indigo dress...forgot about this additional wedding prep purchase...I didn't have a need for silver sandals before the wedding invitation.) This nail prep will likely be about an hour or more.

Body Prep: Have to shower and shave my underarms and especially my legs. My legs must be satiny since they may peek out from the slit in the gown during dancing...if I do dance...(but I did just see Mama Mia last night...and if Meryl Streep can dance at 50+ and so can her 50+ year old friends...then I can dance too...even without a partner...just like they did...I'll just tell the band to play some Abba songs and see if I can get my 50+ body to start dancing).

Tanning: My friend R dropped off some Loreal self-tanning packets for me to apply...must make sure that my chest and cleavage are fully aligned with the right amount of tan...but not too tan that they make my arms look too light...and my face look too dark...or my face look too light and my cleavage look too dark...and then I have to also worry about my legs if they peek out and look too light and don't match up with my feet or my hands...and my tan should reflect well with my gold highlights and the bronzer I am going to apply on my face. I think I'm just going to hope for the best or if I mess up with this tanning stuff I'll just find a dark spot to stand in at the reception so no one will notice my uneven tan (and my uneven hip). I knew I should have tried one of those tanning salon spray tans...too late now.

Accessorizing: Of course, since I picked a gown that is not one of the usual colors in my wardrobe, I had no indigo-matching jewelry. I did purchase some pearl and crystal earrings at the Crafts Show a few weeks ago. Luckily, I also found my grandmother's crystal necklace up in the closet...crystals are so great because they pick up the color of any dress.

The other day when I was trying on my dress and asked my 18 year old son what he thought...he said, "It looks nice mom... but what about your arms...you need a bracelet or something...and don't wear your watch...it doesn't match." Oh dear, my arms need some jewelry...how could I forget about my arms. So now, I also have to get to the mall today...during all this prep work and hopefully find a bracelet that will highlight my arms (which are the only parts of my body that are a little tan.)

Back to the Hairdresser: At 1:00 pm it is back to the hairdresser (a different hairdresser) to trim and blow out my doo...she always does it better than me...so I decided to splurge for this elegant evening. If my 22 year old daughter can do it...so can her 50 year old mom.

Let's Face It: At around 5:00 pm, I think I'll start the make-up session...this one is on my own...I decided that I would not have another Bobbi Brown makeover...I really want to wait until the Fall to get my Bobbi Brown makeover so I can purchase the new Fall colors...why do it now and get makeup to match an indigo dress when I could have a makeover later on that truly matches my Color Me Beautiful colors. Nope, today I'm just going to use my own makeup to make my face shine...but maybe I will buy a new lipstick...that's after I get to the jewelry counter to get my new bracelet. Good thing I don't need any undergarments for my indigo dress.

Well, I think that about does it. And what will surely feel like a 100 or so hours of prep...I think I'll be all ready for the wedding. And so will my daughter and my son. Wish my late hubby were here to go to the wedding with me. He never really worried about these formal affairs like I do. But he will be watching from above...yes, he will be watching closely to see what everyone is wearing and likely be shaking his head in heaven at how much time and money we've spent on the evening.

- Two hours to find a dress for the wedding;

- Thirty minutes to alter the dress at the tailor;

- One hour to try on the indigo dress and look in the mirror and decide if I should wear this dress;

- Two hours for hair color and highlights;

One hour to apply self-tanning;

- One hour to take off self-tanning because I applied it unevenly and look like a zebra with tan streaks;

- One hour for manicure and pedicure;

- One additional hour to try on the indigo dress and look in the mirror and decide if I should wear this dress and try on every piece of jewelry I own and decide that only one crystal necklace matches and that I have to buy more jewelry;

- One hour for hairstyling at the salon;

- Thirty minutes for makeup to fix up my 50 year old face;

- One hour to try on two dozen or more lipstick colors to pick out one lipstick to purchase;

- Thirty minutes to pick out a bracelet that goes with my crystal necklace;

- Thirty minutes to squeeze all my stuff from my regular handbag into a teeny tiny evening bag and get the clasp to close;

- Thirty minutes to figure out what shoes to bring along to drive in and to figure out how to get into my Honda Accord in a long slinky gown and get the pedal going without ruining my dress.

Going to the wedding to see my nephew and his beautiful bride get married, priceless.

Judi