Jump to content

Articles

  • entries
    4
  • comment
    1
  • views
    15,372

Contributors to this blog

Grief - Denial


kamurj

61 views

 Share

Excerpted from
Good Grief
By Lolly Winston

I stand with my arms at my sides and watch as she fills the bag with Ethan's coats. Oh! The suede jacket with the lamb's-wool lining that we dubbed the Marlboro Man coat. She tucks the arms inside the suitcase carefully, as though she's making hospital comers. You don't need a coat when you're dead. It's that simple.

I reach into the closet, pull Ethan's ski sweater off a hanger, and curl it against my belly, massaging a pinch of the wool between my fingers. The familiar scratchy fabric is as soothing as a hot bath. I didn't know how to ski when Ethan and I first started dating. He patiently rode the T-bar up the bunny slope with me for hours until I could make a parallel turn and graduate to the chairlift. "Take your time!" he called up the hill as I doubled over my skis, rear in the air, eight-year-olds whizzing past me.

Now, Marion takes the sweater from me and folds it into the suitcase. When she reaches for Ethan's down parka, a spider lurches out of the sleeve. Marion smacks it with her bare hand, making me jump, then brushes the creature onto the floor and gives it one swift stomp.

"They bite, you know," she says, returning to the coats with dour concentration. She is a first-rate widow. Not a woman who needs a man around to kill her insects.

We lug the boxes into the garage, creating stack after stack, and pretty soon I have to move my car into the driveway to make more room. The concrete is cold and gritty on my bare feet, and Marion says why don't I put on some shoes. Then she tells me that the Goodwill truck is coming Monday morning between eight and noon. Can I be home then? Yes, yes, I nod, and smack invisible dust from my hands. I survey the boxes, locating the one with Ethan's ski sweater.

After we finish packing Ethan's belongings, Marion takes me to a salad bar restaurant for lunch. 1 drizzle nonfat ranch dressing onto nonfat honey corn muffins, spoon nonfat sour cream into a steaming baked potato, munch Chinese chicken salad, and sip diet soda. I've always enjoyed food, especially lobster, blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup, and beer, but I've never felt so compelled to eat. In the year before Ethan died, food actually seemed like a nuisance—having to worry about what to make for dinner or where to find take-out lunch close to work. But now eating's like crawling under the covers, food a tunnel to burrow into. The green salad is cool and soothing—the kidney beans as soft as felt.

Marion eyes my salad, which is loaded with raisins and croutons and chopped eggs. "Looks like you haven't lost your appetite," she says, her tone of voice somewhere between talking and singing. "I lost fifteen pounds after Charlie died. Couldn't bring myself to eat alone."

Marion's right. All of the grief books say that widows lose weight. There's nothing in any of the chapters about wanting to devour a minimart.

I dab my mouth with my napkin and fold my hands in my lap. "It feels good to eat and sleep," I try to explain.

Marion nods and butters a ladylike corner of corn muffin. She has never lost control, of course, never ransacked the host's medicine chest at a party or inhaled a box of Thin Mints. She probably thinks I'm not a very good widow. I wish I could be. I want to be a classy widow—a Jackie Kennedy kind of widow. Slim and composed, elegant and graceful. White gloves and a string of pearls. But I seem to be more the Jack Daniel's kind of widow—wailing in the supermarket and mowing through the salad bar, hair all crazy like an unmade bed.

Lately, life requires so much self-discipline. While most people have a to-do list, I have a don't-do list. Don't eat Oreos until your gums bleed. Don't sleep in your clothes. Don't grab the produce boy's teenage wrists and sob.

Marion excuses herself and heads for the fruit. I get to work on the potato and then the gluey soup. But I'm interrupted by a chubby toddler who stumbles up to the table and rudely points a waxed-bean finger at me. He blurts something incomprehensible, foamy spittle bubbling up around his pacifier.

It sounds like "How come you don't have a baby?"

 Share

0 Comments


Recommended Comments

There are no comments to display.

Guest
Add a comment...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Restore formatting

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Advice Requests

  • Our picks

    • How To Make A Woman Want You Sexually (Guide To Building Her Interest And Sexual Attraction)
      Learn how to make a woman want you sexually! In today's video we're talking about sexual attraction and how you make a woman want you! We're going to be discussing some useful tips you can put to work to get a woman interested in you and building that sexual desire. Often men think they know exactly what women want, men in sports cars with big houses a big wallet and a bad boy attitude. This might be what the ladies want in movies but not in real life it's very different. To know what a lady wants you need to understand what you need to do to make her want you sexually. Imagine if you knew the secret formula to do this, the one that tells you exactly what women want sexually. The formula would let you know exactly what you need to do to get a woman to fall into your arms, sounds too good to be true right? Well it's not! It's as easy as being mindful of your own behaviour and adopting steel-proof boundaries. Want to know some more? Well don't move an inch.

       
      • 0 replies
    • How to know when he's really fallen in LOVE
      You’re falling in love with your man deeper every day, but you don’t know if he feels the same way for you. It’s natural to want to know his feelings for you. What happens when he doesn’t say it or he’s not the type to say that? His actions tell you he loves you, but you could be wrong, right? So how do you know when he’s really in love with you? It’s not always so easy, but it’s not impossible either!

       
      • 0 replies
    • 6 Psychological Secrets of Attraction
      Knowing whether or not someone is “into you” can be incredibly difficult if they don’t explicitly say it. In this video, we will be looking at some psychological secrets of attraction.

       
      • 0 replies
×
×
  • Create New...