Do You Know About This?

My older sister said something today that I said 10 years ago.  "I'm in a category I never wanted to be in."
She means widow.

Her husband died late January, so she has had two months of being what she never wanted to be--or thought she would be.

It's a funny thing how things change when you become that, a widow. People regard you differently. They can't help it any more than you can. You are different.  Even if you think you're the same person. You aren't. You don't have that other part of you, your husband, to hang onto or stand next to or just know he's around. Other people know it, too.

You go most places alone. You eat alone--at home or wherever. You deal with rude people alone. And there are some.

Yes, there are friends--married--who still try to include you, but it's weird. A third party or a fifth person, and either you are not part of the conversation or they try to include you in it and you become quite central to the conversation. And now this is going to sound like I'm a snob. So be it. Most of these people are old, and my age aside, I don't have as much in common with them as you might think. Go ahead. Laugh. I don't care if you don't believe me.

I'm exaggerating a little. But only a little.

And here's another thing.

I told my sister that after my husband died I began noticing that old guys look me up and down, like in the grocery store or the mall or Costco. She said she has noticed that, too.

They really do, you know. I don't know why. I mean what do you suppose they are thinking? I know what I'm thinking. "Back off, buster. You're barking up the wrong widow."

Young guys don't look me. To them I'm invisible. In fact, I am invisible to young people of both genders. And don't try to contradict me here. I absolutely know the truth of what I say about these phenomena. Old guys gawk; young guys don't. And don't get me wrong. I don't want young guys looking me over. But I hate it that old guys do.

I told Alyce about this those ten years ago, told her, "Alyce, here is what my life has come to. Old guys look at me. Yuck. I'm just geezer bait." So she made me a T-shirt with those two words--Geezer Bait--on front. I've only worn it two, maybe three times in all those years. It's risky to wear such a shirt, you know.

By the way, here's where my sister has an advantage over my situation for the last ten years. She has me, her widowed sister, and I will talk to her and listen to her and go places with her. True, we live in different states, but they're not that far apart. I don't think this makes me a wonderful sister. It's just that I know something of what she is experiencing. That can be helpful.

Widow. It is not a good word. Person is good. I'm still a person, and so is my sister.