At what point do I tell them? Being a single parent isn’t unusual, so I thought I could do without explanations at first. I really don’t want this to define us for the rest of our lives. But not telling our tale quickly becomes challenging. How is it that I’ve come to have stepdaughter, but no husband? Do I explain right away, or do I let the awkward moment form like a little raincloud as the person tries to sort out our complicated little family, then dissipate while I change the subject?
Sometimes I blurt it out, almost too casually, as an aside, leaving me feeling tactless and the other person searching for the right thing to say. It happened today at the Apple store as I was trying to sort out transferring content to Pickle’s new iPod. The nice genius and I couldn’t figure out why some songs wouldn’t transfer.
“Were any of the songs downloaded using a different iTunes account?” he asked.
“Oh yeah!” I exclaimed, happy that a solution might be at hand. “Yes, probably my husband’s account. That makes sense.”
“All you’ll need to do is log into the account, and you’ll be able to transfer the songs.”
“Yeah, but he’s dead,” I said.
Then I saw the stricken look on the nice genius’ face, and I started stammering.
“I mean, um, he put the songs on the iPod and I’m not sure if I have his password but I probably do, it’s probably on that list of passwords I have at home and if it is, then I’ll transfer the songs, no problem. I know how to do that. Um, I can do that. Thanks for your help. Thanks so much. Bye.”
My wise friend Kristina advocates getting things out in the open right away to prevent them from becoming uncomfortable later in the relationship. This approach can be used for anything anything that might become an issue in the future, big or small.
So, if Kristina and I were to meet today instead of 20 years ago, our conversation might go something like this.
“Hi, I’m Kristina,” she’d say. “I don’t like ham.”
“Hi, I’m Jennifer,” I’d reply. “I’m a suicide widow.”
You are amazing XO While I can't fathom being in your shoes it does remind me of how I felt being the only childless friend of a posse of moms. Constantly asked about my children or more specifically my lack thereof. After multiple miscarriages I found myself answering that question very much the same way you did with the genius. I think we are defined by many things at many times throughout our lives. While I may no longer be the "bitter infertile" in reality it rears its ugly head in my thoughts and in my heart still.
ReplyDeleteIf I can help, please reach out I am here if you need me. XOXO
Oh matey - this could be a conversation I've had. Sometimes the most expedient way to explain things and stop the useless farting around is to use the widow card ... but I think people always expect me to cry while I tell them... and when I don't I worry that they think I'm some unfeeling cow: "that woman just told me her husband was dead ... but she said it so matter of factly ... look at her now, she's actually *smiling* ... what kind of monster must she be" (note that this conversation is only going on in the special part of my head reserved for playing mind games with myself ... to my knowledge anyway).
ReplyDeleteAmanda - I think we all have that special part of our heads reserved for our own private insanity. Soon I'll write about an exchange I had with a woman at a gas station, and then you'll know what kind of monster I really am. :)
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