Eating the Elephant While Being Nibbled to Death by Ducks

Throughout this whole "being widowed" process, I've used the expression "eating an elephant" to describe my approach to dealing with the overwhelming list of tasks that need to be done. If I look at everything all at once, I panic and I can't cope, but if I take on one task at a time, I can manage. I can steel myself for the huge tasks, like dealing with life insurance, taxes, COBRA, paying bills, and financial arrangements. But it's the little tasks, the little snags, that are killing me. It's those things that make me feel unprepared, unprotected, like I'm being nibbled to death by ducks. 

You don't expect the little things to be such a big deal: they are, by definition, little. But there are so very many of them. The pool chemistry that doesn't do what it's supposed to, the outdoor electrical outlet that suddenly stopped working, the irrigation system and outside spigots that need to be shut off for the season, the heating system that needs to be turned on for the season, the modem that periodically needs to be reset, the propane tank that may or may not need to be refilled, the kitchen cabinet hinges that need replacing, the reorganization of the garage and basement, the lawn mowing, the weeding, getting the oil changed, the car to be sold, the leak under the toilet... If I knew how to do all those things, they would be relatively little. But every single thing requires research, and requests for assistance, and finding tools and phone numbers and shopping trips. It's mentally and physically exhausting. 

But the other part of being nibbled to death by ducks is all those tiny moments when I miss him so much that I feel like my heart will tear open. The times when I'm cooking dinner and start to dance to Michael Buble all by myself. When I go to open a jar and I need help but I can't just waltz into the office and croon, "Oh, strong huuuusbaaaaaand...." When I want to enjoy a cocktail on the porch and I have to do it by myself. When I'm watching my kids do something wonderful and I start to take a photo but realize I have no-one to send it to. When I read a funny meme and want to send it to him but then I remember. When I wake up at night and roll over but there's no-one there to snuggle with. When I have to figure out how to pick up one kid and drop off the other at the same time. When I relax in the hot tub and watch the stars all alone. When technology fails me and I can't just go in the next room for a consult. When I have to go downstairs and make my coffee myself instead of having it delivered to me in bed. When I see a pretty bunch of flowers at the store and know no-one will be bringing them to me. When I open the liquor cabinet and see a bottle of gin. When I go to a meeting we used to attend together but I have to sit by myself. When I open the closet and see his clothes. When I look in the garage and see his Scout equipment. When I look at my hand and see my wedding rings and wonder if I'll ever take them off. When I get dinner ready at 6pm on the dot and there's no-one to laugh about it with. When I see an ad for a concert I'd like to attend but I don't want to go by myself. When I do something that's really hard for me and he's not there to cheer me on. When I want a glass of wine but there's no-one to share it with. 

That's really the bottom line: there's no-one to share things with. No-one to share my pain, my joy, my triumphs, my worries, my life. Yes, there are friends who are there to cheer me on and to sympathize with me and to help me out, but it's not the same. It's not my partner, it's not my other half, it's not my soulmate. Despite being surrounded by love, I am still desperately, painfully, thoroughly alone. 

Just me, and the elephant, and the ducks.