I Never Saw This Coming

Over the past six months, I posted several times about my experiences as a new widow. This spring, I wrote about the  5 Things I Learned As a Surviving Spouse, and this summer, my local paper, The Beacher, published Stuff I’ve Learned From My Husband’s Cell Phone. Both pieces offer tips and insights that I gleaned during the first few months after my husband’s death. In contrast, today’s essay is about a time when someone offered me guidance that turned out to be invaluable and prophetic.

When the cell phone number of my husband’s friend showed up on the caller id, I grabbed it mid ringtone.

“Did I catch you at a good time? Do you have a minute?” Mel asked in his usual carefree manner. 

“Hi. Sure,” I said quickly.  

Curiosity froze me at the kitchen island. Since my husband and I became friends with Mel and his wife several years ago, I had probably spoken to him on the phone two times. When Steve passed away in February, Mel was one of the first to offer his help. I had yet to have a reason to ask for assistance.

Mel cleared his throat. “This is a vulnerable time for you. I’m calling… well… there’s this guy. Someone you and I both know. I’m afraid he might try to take advantage you.” 

I squeezed my eyes. As if that act alone would stem the crazy stutter step in my heartbeat. I felt it every time my mind crashed into the absurd reality of my new role as “surviving spouse.” And being vulnerable wasn’t all of it. 

I felt that to be sure, but I also felt upended, overwhelmed, confused, and yes, fearful. Sometimes, my worries over the endless to-do list of estate, financial, and household matters sent my anxiety spiraling to the point of panic. Much of my energies were spent these days trying to gain control of everything or anything. With all that I was navigating in the paperwork realm, it hadn’t dawned on me that someone might sense my fragility and attempt to take advantage of me.

Resurrecting my breath, I asked Mel, “Ok. Who are you worried about?”

As Mel and I discussed his concerns about our mutual friend, conflicting emotions surged in me: gratitude and alarm. It’s in my nature to be trusting, loving and giving, but I realized Mel was right. Going forward I should be more careful. Watchful. Wary. 

A few weeks later, it was not the mutual friend whom Mel had cautioned me about who upset my trust meter. It wasn’t a random solicitor, a bill collector, or an acquaintance. No, it was someone dearer to me than that. Someone from my inner circle whom I had never had any reason to mistrust.

Out of the blue, I received an unsolicited text. In the series of texts that followed a financial scheme was laid out. It sounded like a plea for help. Like cash was needed to bail out a person I had yet to meet. In my foggy grief riddled brain, I wondered: Are they asking me for money? Why now? Why me? My reaction was to set the messages aside to revisit later. 

Weeks later, I dug my phone out of my purse and showed the text thread to my twin sister. She leaned over the table towards me, her eyes wide.

“This scheme sounds bizarre. Like a scam. And it sounds like they are asking for money. You didn’t give them any, did you?” she said.

Together, we quizzed other members of our inner circle. None of them had received the request for funds. The same sick feeling that flooded in when Mel called to offer his words of caution returned. I hadn’t wanted to believe Mel. I’m a nice person, why would anyone want to take advantage of me? 

When I realized that this “previously trusted person” had targeted only me for money, I was on high alert. And then a few weeks later, this same “previously trusted person” suggested a fresh and different demand, one that would put them within my personal space. I was a new widow figuring out each day as it came. This request was not something I could ignore or put off for later. I reacted immediately. And as I suspected, the fallout was swift and ugly. I’m hopeful that someday, the rift will heal, but apologies have yet to be made.

Over the last six months, I’ve grown more comfortable accepting the kindnesses and sympathies of others. I’m eager to hear and heed sage advice from well-meaning souls. I ask more questions than I ever did before, and I say no when something doesn’t serve me. Often, I rely on intuition.  

This has been the year of unforeseen events and astonishing outcomes. Not just for me but for far too many of you. In no small part, I credit the pandemic in teaching me/us to expect the unexpected. We have less control over the events in our lives than we previously thought, but we have witnessed that there are people who will rise to the occasion and surprise us with wisdom and generosity. Equally, there will be others who disappoint. The keys to my navigating the unimageable and unpredictable is acceptance, forgiveness, courage and hope. 

Friends and dear readers, I wish you all those things. Good health, too.

Don’t miss a blog post!

Receive my blog posts directly to your inbox. 

Available on Amazon!