A Smiling Young Widow

Tom was never cold. I am always cold.

Tom would tell stories with a chuckle about someone at work complaining about the cold and then getting upset that Tom hadn’t even pulled out his winter gear yet.

When we did the Salkantay trek in Peru we ate supper our first night in this beautiful windowed hut. I was there first chatting with some of our group about how much it had cooled off and everyone was bundling up in their warm gear. Well in walks Tom, with shorts on of course. He did have a little toque, more for style I’m sure. Everyone laughed, oh this is the guy from Canada!

Those shorts were Tom’s usual uniform for shovelling too, with a toque and hoodie (sometimes a vest if it was really cold). He would just get too hot if he wore pants apparently!

When we would go out on backpacking or camping trips, Tom would always pack extra warm gear. Not for himself, but to share with me if it got chilly. He knew a warm wife was a bit more enjoyable to hang out with in a tent!

Our first big cold snap of the year arrived this week and has me reminiscing about all the times Tom and I were out doing something fun in the freezing cold. I would often tell Tom how I just needed a beard, then I would be warmer. The wind protection a beard offers to cheeks and chin is incredible!

I know I’m not alone in the widowhood world in feeling changes that come with cold weather and winter. There’s less distraction, less chance to just pop outside, less daylight. Everyone gets cozy. I miss cozy days in with Tom and Frank. I miss having an always ready adventure buddy for our winter activities. I miss having someone to help decide if it would be too cold for me to go skiing, silly little things you get used to. There was one time we were out at Kimberley “down hilling” (I was required to adopt this term to be more inclusive of Tom’s snowboarding!) riding the chairlift up with a friendly fella on a great powder day, chatting about how the lines had really cleared up after lunch. “Tough to keep the kiddies motivated for long in this cold” the man said. Tom laughed and looked at me, “Yup tough to keep this one motivated too!” That became an ongoing joke we’d use when considering what activity to do – might be tough to keep the kiddies motivated out there today! That’s a bit about how widowhood can hit in the cold winter… tough to keep the motivation going.

I guess I am grateful? fortunate? that Tom died in the springtime. I was in a total daze at first and as I started to come out of it, summer was arriving. When I was waking at 4 AM with no chance of falling back asleep, the sun was just about to rise as well. When I hopped back into bed with a coffee for a lazy start and anxiety flared as my body tried to process why Tom wasn’t there too, I could relocate to the sunny back deck and let the fresh air calm me. When I woke up to a day alone with nothing planned, I could easily head out the door to a trail or a lake with Frank in tow or could just choose an afternoon outside in the backyard to experiment with some painting or mow the lawn. I can notice in myself that I am better able to cope than I was in those early days of summer. Now I can have a slow coffee morning. I can actually read a book for pleasure (most days, not all days – curiously this is something I’ve been asked about the most for return to work criteria). I can find a bit more motivation, most days, to bundle up and get outside for a bit of fresh biting air. Good ol Franklin 🐶 is an excellent motivator to get outside too, and Tom would be proud that his little buddy is helping keep the kiddies motivated!