Diary of a Widower

Daily entries by a husband, who stayed behind with his two sons

18 Jan 2013

My libido? Thanks for asking

MONDAY, January 18 – Didn’t get too much sleep. I had dinner with F and it was a bit of a late evening.  It was fun, nothing improper. Woke up just before six, masturbating. The sexual urges have been subdued lately. I’m not as emotionally randy as during the first month, when I often fantasized about my sex life with Jennifer.

After that, I’d been semi-impotent for a while. Titillation had no effect on me – no hard-ons, despite my best efforts. Even now the old libido hasn’t bounced back, although in my more imaginative moments I think about my return to a great sex life in the future. New partners. That alone evokes interesting prospects.

Not long ago M and I drew up a list of potential bedfellows. She was on the list herself, I told her with a grin. I’ve already spent pleasurable evenings with a number of Jenn’s girlfriends that were no more than good conversations, full of warmth. That sort of thing is bound to lead to a pleasurable session of heavy petting.

I can’t help wondering how women ‘function’ in this respect. They’re less focused on the sex itself, I’m guessing. Must admit I’m a bit out of practice when it comes to pursuit, seduction, and conquest. For the time being I’ll make do with a bit of perfunctory masturbation.

Even that isn’t always a great success, due to chronic fatigue. But after a lonely ejaculation, my yearning for the body of a woman continues to increase, and I see this as a good sign at the beginning of a new week.

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17 Jan 2013

Mom & Mother of all remotes

remoteSUNDAY, January 17 – We often talk about Jennifer. The conversation is usually light-hearted.  What would Mom have thought about this or that? Or, how would she have felt? Like this afternoon, driving back from the mall where Eamonn had pointed out the Logitech Harmony, the mother of all remote control devices.

It would replace all four remotes we had in the house, but that was reflected in the price, an absurd 150 euros. Sander pointed out that it was still much cheaper than the tablet version which weighed in at  450 euros. As a gadget freak, I felt myself weakening in the face of their arguments, but we began to speculate on how Jennifer would have felt about this purchase.

Eamonn:  ‘She would have been against it.’

Sander:  ‘She’d say that it was Papa’s department.’

Me:  ‘She would have been mad.’

Eamonn: ‘Yeah, but later on she’d have used it herself and then she would have said, “Actually it’s a pretty handy gadget to have around”.’

Then all three of us burst out laughing.

It occurred to me that I’d already made quite a number of purchases. Apparently, the consumption machine rolls on unnoticed. Clothes, for instance. I’m wearing a completely new outfit, which I bought without Jennifer. I’m shopping on my own.

A new winter coat, a couple of pairs of jeans, boots, hiking shoes. Sweaters.  A new coffee maker, new furniture for the guestroom. In a material sense, life goes on.  It leaves me cold. Admittedly, it all feels a bit strange.

Posted in Remembering, Three Guys | Leave a comment
16 Jan 2013

So what have we learned?

SATURDAY, January 16 – I resolved to learn from yesterday’s lesson. The first baseball practice of the season and Eamonn displayed little to no enthusiasm.  If skating with his mother proved to be so emotional for him, then baseball probably wouldn’t fare much better. As the time to leave drew closer, his dilly-dallying spoke volumes.

After breakfast I called him over and started to talk about yesterday and  how it was clear that skating without Mom was difficult for him. I tried to create a link to baseball, but Eamonn interrupted me. He was more direct:  ‘What are you trying to tell me, Papa?’

‘What I’m trying to tell you, Eamonn, is that we’re going to skip the first baseball practice.’  This was followed by a hug and a kiss on the cheek. All of a sudden he was cheerful again and his high spirits continued the rest of the day. We decided to watch Avatar .

‘The best movie of my whole life,’ he proclaimed.

‘My whole life,’ echoed in my head.

Posted in Kid's grieving, Three Guys | Leave a comment
15 Jan 2013
1 Comment

Screaming on thin ice

skatingFRIDAY, January 15 – I’m angry with myself. I should have known, should have seen it coming.  Damn it, how dumb can you be? Last week Eamonn came home from skating lessons spitting fire. The instructor was way too strict, plus his leg was bothering him. ‘You know what,’ I said this morning, ‘I think I’ll go with you.’

So I went along on the school bus, as a volunteer. I simply couldn’t understand why he didn’t enjoy the skating. There were only four Friday trips to the ice rink and it would be a shame if he missed out on the fun just  because of a strict coach or  his leg. It didn’t make sense. When we got there, I helped the kids with trying on the skates and tying their shoelaces, including Eamonn.

He was out on the ice for a total of thirty seconds. His leg hurt too much and he looked as if he was about to burst into tears. Convinced that he was grossly exaggerating, I loosened his shoelaces and sent him off again, but he refused to go. I tried mild persuasion. No luck. When I ordered him back onto the ice, he totally ignored me. Read more…

Posted in Kid's grieving, Remembering, Three Guys
14 Jan 2013

‘Ever since your mom died…’

THURSDAY, January 14 – Sander told me on the phone that there’d been an incident at school – that it was something we should talk about tonight. When I got home he said it had all blown over and wasn’t worth discussing any longer.

I insisted. It seems that in English class he’d maintained that poetry was an absolute waste and a couple of classmates had given him a hard time about that statement. Then, a friend of his turned around and said in a loud voice, ‘There’s been a noticeable change in your attitude since your mother died’. At that point , according to Sander himself, he stood up, shouted that he’d had enough, and left the classroom.  He then spent a couple of hours in the office with one of the secretaries.

The friend in question apologized shortly afterwards and that was, apparently, the end of the affair.  Sander and I talked about what had happened to me. I told him that someone had commented on my shallow complexion, and that people often talk a lot of crap.

We agreed that we’ll  have to find a way to deal with things like this since that’s the only way we can get on with life. I also began to wonder whether the change in Sander’s behavior is not only due  to the mourning process, but also to the onset of puberty. At this stage it’s hard to distinguish between them.  No doubt they’re running parallel, influencing each other for better or for worse.

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13 Jan 2013

Finally, some really good news

WEDNESDAY, January 13 – Around 3:30 this afternoon Sander called me in the car.

‘I have good news, Papa!’

‘Great, what is it?’

He starts to tell me about a kind of light switch for a project he was working on. I don’t have a clue what he’s going on about, but I can tell he’s really, really happy. Then, Eamonn comes on the line.

‘I have good news too, Papa!’

‘Great, Eamonn, ‘what is it?’

‘No, no. I’ll tell you when you get home.’ When I walk in the door, he shows me the award he got that morning at school:  Student of the Month for Commitment and Perseverance. It’s right there, in black and white, on a pre-printed diploma.

I make a grand moment of it all and praise him enthusiastically. I can see that he’s proud and enjoys my showering him with compliments. Two happy boys and a contented father who then receives a phone call from the foreman informing us that the contractor has accepted our offer for the renovation of the new house. It was a wonderful day. A day to cherish.

Posted in Three Guys | Leave a comment
12 Jan 2013
2 Comments

Men are men. Hello, sex

TUESDAY, January 12 – According to my colleague, herself a widow, more women than men write about the loss of their partner because: ‘Men are much quicker to find themselves a new sex partner.’ Does this mean that I should stop everything and do what is expected of me ‘as a man’?

Being both ambitious and pushy, should I rather focus on two goals at the same time: writing and screwing?  Why the hell not?  Hmmm… it remains to be seen whether I’m up to it since a certain tendency towards impotence has made itself felt this week.  It takes jerking off endlessly, perhaps, suggesting a teensy ejaculation dip. Is this yet something else that mourning does to you?

Posted in Grieving, New love, Sex
11 Jan 2013

You don’t look good. Oh really?

MONDAY, January 11 – A colleague I’ve always liked falls into step with me in the corridor and tells me how great it is that I’m back.

‘The feeling is mutual,’ I assure him, and no matter how ‘standard’ that sounds, I really mean it.

‘Just one thing,’ he says. You don’t look too good.’

‘Well, thanks a lot,’ I say with a laugh. (How are you supposed to handle a remark like that?)

‘No, I’m serious. You really don’t look good.’

Then he throws one arm around me and adds, ‘It’s plain to see you’re having a hard time dealing with it all.’

I was upset for hours. There you are, walking down the hallway, cheerful and full of energy, and boom; someone hits you with that.  Does everyone expect to find you to be well-rested and carefree, since everything has so obviously been going your way?

‘No, you fucking idiot, at the moment I’m living through a nightmare. So keep your goddamned  trap shut, will you?’

Unfortunately, a retort like this always occurs to me too late to be of any use.

Posted in Back to work | Leave a comment
10 Jan 2013
1 Comment

Road rage from the heart

redlightSUNDAY, January 10 – Things are starting to get out of hand, Overdiek. This week I caught myself in full pursuit of the driver of a police car on Beethoven Street. He had ignored a woman who was in  the crosswalk, while I’d stopped for her. I followed the patrol car until it entered Beatrix Park. What on Earth was I planning to do?

Only a few days later, I found myself ranting and raving at a woman who had calmly driven straight  through a red light  while it had been  green for me. She didn’t even notice since she’d been talking on  her cell phone. I shouted almost screamed at her, but of course she didn’t hear me. The dog was scared witless. My rage has begun to take on absurd proportions. Must do something about this.

This morning I decide to change my tactics. Radically.  In fact, I am switching to normal misconduct. I take a deep breath and decide to cross against the light at a leisurely pace, all the time looking around me.  Not a car in sight. It feels good, after several months of abiding by traffic regulations rigorously.

Moreover, I realize that waiting for green is no guarantee. Jennifer waited until the light turned and that cost her her life. So it feels good to return to my old self, to rely on my own common sense and innate caution. Being part of traffic, instead of fighting it.

Posted in Traffic victim
09 Jan 2013

Who let the beast in?

SATURDAY, January 9 – Is this the beginning of depression knocking at the door, just as bereavement experts predict, or did  the beast already sneak into the house while I wasn’t looking?

Posted in Grieving | Leave a comment

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