Sunday 23 June 2019
Widow's Endorphins: International Widows' Day 2019
Widow's Endorphins: International Widows' Day 2019: It's International Widows' Day. Truthfully, for widows around the world, every day is widows' day. Every. Single. Day...
International Widows' Day 2019
It's International Widows' Day. Truthfully, for widows around the world, every day is widows' day. Every. Single. Day.
I chose this photo of the beautiful garden gate in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada's Butchart Gardens, because it represents a divide: life and death, before and after, what is visible and invisible. Almost every widow I know, thinks of her life in terms of before and after the death of their husband or partner. We can tell you not only the date of death, the exact time as well. Many (not me, because I don't think in terms of numbers), actually count the days since their husband was alive. There's even an app for that.
The gate may also represent the unobtainable, the barriers facing widows around the world - especially, in third world countries. The United Nations global statistics says that of the world's 258 million widows, one out of ten live in extreme poverty. They (and their children) are destitute.
UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres, says, "women are significantly more likely to suffer poverty in old age than men". He says, "widowed women's lifetime earnings and savings are often too little to avoid poverty". The Secretary-General says, that discriminatory inheritance rights, means that women "may be stripped of land, property and even rights and access to their own children". In some parts of the world, widows are outcast, subjected to violence and sexual abuse, and forced to remarry.
The UN Secretary-General is asking all of us to reflect on ensuring that widows "are not left behind".
The most recent statistics for Canada and the United States show that there were more than 1.4 million widows in Canada, including those who were living common law. America has ten times our population, and naturally, the statistics for widows is about ten times greater than Canada's. In 2018, there were 11.7 million widows in the USA. As the populations of both countries age, the number of widows grows.
There's comfort in numbers. There's something reassuring about widows talking to other widows - discovering that they are not crazy to still hold onto a pair of his boots, or not being able to let go of shirts that are still hanging in the closet months, or years later.
There are many on-line groups for widows, and I have found listening and sharing is healing and empowering. To widows reading this, you are not alone.
One final note, relating to the garden gate...the invisible and visible doesn't just refer to life and death. Many widows say they feel invisible. Widows are thought of as frail, octogenarians, living in isolation. They are in fact, young women, often living in isolation. The average age of a widow in the US is 59 years old, and the average age in Canada is 56.
Sometimes the isolation is self imposed. Many widows, particularly in the early months are contrary: not wanting to be left out or excluded, and yet, not wanting to be around anyone. If you are a friend, call them anyway, they may decline the offer, however, it will mean so much that they were thought of.
Sometimes the isolation is self imposed. Many widows, particularly in the early months are contrary: not wanting to be left out or excluded, and yet, not wanting to be around anyone. If you are a friend, call them anyway, they may decline the offer, however, it will mean so much that they were thought of.
Even going to a celebration can be overwhelming for a widow. It is a full in the face reminder that even surrounded by friends and family, they are alone. The very person they may wish to share the joy with, isn't there.
As I said in the beginning, every single day is widows' day. From the moment her head hits the pillow, and all through the night until sunrise, the empty place in the bed is a reminder of being alone. Every time a widow steps out the door, she is reminded of places and events shared with someone who is never coming back. Every grocery trip is an aisle of his favourite foods, or if he was seriously ill, food lables which had to be carefully studied. Eventually, it eases (after years of fanatically reading the lables of food, I never look at them anymore).
It takes time to learn to live the life of a widow...to be just you.
Photographs Copyright of: Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.
Friday 21 June 2019
Widow's Endorphins: Summer Solstice
Widow's Endorphins: Summer Solstice: Light, after darkness. In our Northern Hemisphere, Summer Solstice is the longest day of the year, and the official beginning of Summ...
Summer Solstice
Photographs Copyright of: Ruth Adams, Widow's Endorphins Photographic Images Incorporated.
Saturday 15 June 2019
Widow's Endorphins: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot: A Song for Fathers' Day...
Widow's Endorphins: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot: A Song for Fathers' Day...: I can't listen to Swing Low, Sweet Chariot without getting teary eyed. When we were little, it was our lullabye. My Dad would sin...
Swing Low, Sweet Chariot: A Song for Fathers' Day
I can't listen to Swing Low, Sweet Chariot without getting teary eyed. When we were little, it was our lullabye. My Dad would sing us to sleep, or at least calm us into sleepiness with the old Spiritual. No Rock-a-Bye-Baby for us, we wuz sophisticated!
Like me, Dad was not gifted with a singing voice. That didn't stop him from singing Swing Low, and two other favourites, Waltzing Matilda, and Molly Malone (as in, cockles and mussles, alive, alive oh). I think he found the lyrics in his thick, soft covered copy of the UBC Songbook. It was about the size of a small bible, and filled with songs from the late 1940s and earlier. On Summer nights, we kids and our neighbhourhood friends, would seranade anyone within earshot by loudly singing tunes from the book.
Choctaw Freedmen were Indigenous and Black freed slaves who were granted their freedom and citizenship within Choctaw Nation. The African American Registry says that the hymn was written on December 21, 1840 by Wallis Willis, a black servant at the Spencer Academy, a Choctaw boarding school for Indigenous boys, along Oklahoma's Red River. Uncle Wallace, and his wife, Minerva, often sang Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.
Wallace and Minerva had come to Oklahoma from a plantation in Holly Springs, Mississippi. Their owner, a half-Choctaw man named Brit Willis, brought them with him, when he left for the Trail of Tears, the route Indigenous people took when the US government ordered them to move to Oklahoma, and further West.
The school's Minister, Alexander Reid, transcribed the melody to music, and sent the sheet music to Nashville, Tennessee, where the Jubilee Singers made it a hit on their tour of the US and Europe. Queen Victoria was visibly moved.
The song is thought of as a secret code for slaves escaping along the Underground Railroad. The words "swing low, sweet chariot, comin' for to carry me home", may mean the Underground Railroad coming into the slave States to take slaves to freedom in the North, and Canada. Then, "I looked over Jordan, and what did I see? A band of angels comin' after me, comin' for to take me home", is thought to be code for, "workers with the Underground Railroad will cross the Ohio or Mississippi Rivers, and take me North, to freedom".
The freedom song was deemed, "undesired and harmful", by the White Supremacists of Hitler's Reich Music Examination Office. It regained popularity in the US, during the civil rights movement of the '60s. It is now considered one of the Songs of the Century, by the National Endowment for the Arts, and the Recording Industry Association of America. It is also the Oklahoma State Gospel Song.
That this Spiritual would be one of my Dad's favourite songs, and one that he would choose to sing to his babies, is fitting. He was a defender of civil rights all his life. The first time I saw my Dad cry, was when Martin Luther King was assassinated.
Fathers' Day is still hard, even after all these decades since my Dad's been gone. Sometimes, I just wish he were here, for me to rest my head on his broad shoulders, and cry until his white shirt is sopping wet. The chariot of angels came too soon.
Sunday 9 June 2019
Widow's Endorphins: Peonies and Ice Cream
Widow's Endorphins: Peonies and Ice Cream: Sensuous. The fragrant, voluptuous blossoms of the Peony are among the most sensual of all flowers. Tracing the light and shadows...
Peonies and Ice Cream
Sensuous. The fragrant, voluptuous blossoms of the Peony are among the most sensual of all flowers. Tracing the light and shadows of each unfurling petal is mesmerizing. Transcendental.
Raspberry Swirl, Strawberry Cheesecake, Cherry, French Vanilla, Espresso, Salted Caramel, Maple, Double Chocolate...the intense flavour of rich, creamy Italian ice cream is best on a hot, humid night...or, walking along a beachfront promenade! Italian ice cream feels satiny smooth, and luscious, as it melts in the mouth.
Peonies disappear as quickly as melting ice cream on a cone. They bloom in late Spring, usually for two precious weeks, and they're gone. What a glorious two weeks! I have discovered that growers as far North as Alaska, produce peonies under the Midnight Sun, and they are available well into August and September.
Remember Baked Alaska? No one makes that anymore. It's a decadent combination of cake, ice cream, and oven-carmelized meringue. I've read that it was created in 1867 by a New Orleans chef, to commemorate the purchase of Alaska from the Russians. The first record of the name is thirty years later, when the fire and ice dessert is called, Alaska Florida.
Peonies are called the King of Flowers...although, to my eye they are all woman. They're little black dress and cocktails at a jazz piano bar. They're elaborate wedding bouquets and white lace. They're jeans and baskets of flowers from the garden. They bring smiles, and tears, and unforgettable memories.
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