Women express sadness similarly.
Some of us over eat. Some of us indulge in alcoholic beverages. Some of us listen to sad songs. Some of us visit the drug lords. Some of us party heartily. Some of us sleep excessively. Some of us shop extravagantly. Some of us share our sorrows with any listening ears. Some of us contemplate suicide. Some of us cry. Some of us sulk.
Some, like me, stare out of the window for hours and hours…..
To think.
Whenever I experienced a broken heart, thought I could seek solutions by peering from out of a window. Somehow, staring from the window became so therapeutic for me. Often received medicinal ointment for the shattered pieces of my heart.
Woman-to-woman, tried to telepathically communicate to Tuesday’s “heart strings” that the anguish that she was feeling regarding her lover’s absence would be temporary. Thought I could soften the blows from her inconsolable loneliness by softly tucking some of her soul mate’s mementos beneath her head.
Thought I could soothe the grief by presenting her with an array of delicious food, or by preparing her favorite meals, or even by enticing her with special treats. Thought I could numb her heartache by granting abbreviated visits to the hospital so that she could steal glances of her heart throb. Thought I could kiss, rub, and stroke the pain away. But, no amount of antidotes was remedy for Tuesday’s irretrievably broken heart!
So, as Tuesday sought refuge by staring out of the window, I sought comfort by inhaling more and more candy bars.
Women similarly express sadness in the same way.
Tuesday Marie Lee Jones Simpson Williams Giggetts was the beloved Miniature Schnauzer of our family. And, anyone near or far would vociferously attest that she was not a “dog” nor was she ever treated like one. Unashamedly, Tuesday was a much loved and revered queen!
Curiously, people wanted to know who named Tuesday. That’s easy to answer. We each named her—-sort of! Befittingly, I looked into her sweet eyes and saw the name “Tuesday Marie” etched invisibly across her lovely face.
My daughter, Mantha, gave Tuesday portions of her theatrical stage name which is “Lee Jones.”
Tuesday’s inherent beauty was attributed to my maternal (Simpson) lineage. Conversely, her effervescent and charismatic personality was attributed to my paternal (Williams) lineage.
Finally, the genesis on how Tuesday got “Giggetts” as her last name is a “no brainer.”
So, for four years and four months, Tuesday Marie Lee Jones Simpson Williams Giggetts was the “cat’s meow” in our household. As our well-travelled, educated, and pampered “daughter,” she always accompanied us on many vacations, business trips, and sight-seeing adventures.
She even actively participated in family discussions or decisions and was readily available to settle spats, disagreements, arguments, and disputes!
Would you believe that Tuesday was also politically active as she frequently “volunteered” to work on several local, state, and presidential campaigns? Additionally, as a Civil Rights activist, she spiritedly joined us at protest rallies, marches, and never hesitated in rendering her insightful input at all strategy meetings and sessions!
Every facet of our busy life always incorporated Tuesday to include at bedtime. As I “spooned” my husband, Tuesday would territorially “spoon” me. The moment my husband was asleep, Tuesday and I would tippy-toe to the refrigerator to indulge in our nightly snack which consisted of two slices of raisin bread. Predictably, each morning my husband would playfully “raise hell” about raisins appearing in the bed and each and every time Tuesday and I would invoke our innocence and ignorance of the infraction by denying that we were the perpetrators and culprits!
Shhhhh!
Between you and me, had depended upon Tuesday to act like a “drug sniffing” pooch by utilizing her night vision goggles (aka) eyes or her keen sense of smell (aka) nose to find and consume the raisins and bread crumbs prior to day break.
Oops!
Inexplicably and without advanced warning, Tuesday abruptly became deathly ill during my husband’s recent hospitalization. Learned from the veterinarian that this separation anxiety triggered her pancreatic sickness. Unbeknownst to each of us, death was imminent.
As Tuesday peered from the window, kept wishing that I had access to some Novocain so that I could deaden our perpetual sadness. As she grieved for my husband’s presence, Mantha and I tearfully agonized over her slow demise. On the eve of her death, I constantly begged Tuesday to live as I had wanted her to help celebrate my birthday which was only a couple of days away.
Didn’t get my damn wish!
Should have guessed that the end was near as Tuesday had skipped our customary “raisin bread” caper that very morning—-a first in four years. Personally, won’t ever eat raisin bread again in my lifetime!
An anguished scream from my daughter signified that it was over. The “death angel” kept her promise and snatched our beloved Tuesday!
Women express sadness in the same way. Some of us cry and sob. Some of us sob and cry.
I will do both!
