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The Political Correctness of Grieving (and why I don't think
it works)
Humor
What to put on a headstone
Messages
from beyond
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 If
I were really a "black widow" in the traditional sense (i.e. killed my
husband deliberately), this site wouldn't be here. However, I find myself in the
non-unique (albeit annoying) position in life that I was in fact the proximate cause
of his death.
Most
people have no clue (and most probably don't care) what widows (and widowers) go
through. There are support groups on the net, but I found all of them curiously unsatistyfing.
The
main issue for me was that there was NO place where it was appropriate to vent about
the shortcomings in one's spouse or the rather natural bitterness that might ensue
finding out some of this stuff post-mortem. After death, the deceased effectively
becomes perfect, which has, in my opinion, negative ramifications for healing.
Yet,
a plethora of things that I didn't (and in fact never) felt, such as anger at my
husband for dying, were considered appropriate material. So, the grief support
groups simply didn't fit well as a model for me. Not to mention the fact that I lived
in a small town in a rural area....
"Proximate
cause" should probably be explained. My husband had, for lack of a better phrase,
a "mind-blowing orgasm." Literally. Blood pressure rises during an orgasm
and can blow an aneurysm. Or one can have a hemorrhagic stroke other ways.
And
yes, most FAQ, you can die from sex. I spend a good deal of the time afraid
of exactly that unfortunately. Never even entered my mind before. But, without risking
death, you can't really live.
And
yes, second-most FAQ, it was while with me. I am not answering (on this page nor
for the usual askers) about the specifics of what we were doing at the time.
Some
warped folks say I should advertise this fact when seeking a new mate. I wouldn't
go that far, but I do like to clue guys I like in on what brand of luggage that emotional
baggage is. I was never one to feel that guilt and sex had any sort of place together.
But now, it seems, I have no choice but what I feel. I do hope I can work through
this. Soon.
So
what was the purpose of being married anyway? Sometimes I ask myself. Sometimes I
have an answer and sometimes I don't.
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"The Nineties are a bad time for relationships, you know?
Kind of like the mid-1300s were a bad time to have rats in your basement."
-- Himself
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