Wearing black for a designated period of time has gone by the wayside. In the past, widows were expected to wear back for at least a year, a period also referred to as “high mourning”. For some faiths, the next six months were considered “half mourning”; during this time a bit of white could be added in to the wardrobe. After that, sometimes there was a period of “light mourning”, where muted shades of gray/lavender/mauve were acceptable.
Call me old fashioned, but I kind of wish this tradition was still in place.
An article I read recently, points out exactly why I feel this way:
While this may all seem overly restrictive, it did at least function as a way for people to broadcast without words they were in mourning, with those around knowing at a glance they should be sympathetic to the individual and perhaps give them a little more leeway than they might otherwise do in interactions with said person.
Source: http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2016/11/people-wear-black-mourning/
Short of wearing sign around my neck, there is no way of letting anyone know they might want to be careful with me. Not that I’m a dainty flower or anything, but sometimes folks say or do things that cut me to the core inside. I try to keep a bright smile on my face, but sometimes I wind up being thrown into a bad/bitter mood because of a few insensitive words. Even though those that know me know I’m a widow, it’s not the primary thought in their heads when speaking with/around me. Of course, it’s always the primary thought in my head, so there’s a distinct difference in the levels of awareness of my situation.
Recently, there was a fellow I needed to work with. I hadn’t seen him in a while and this time he had the news that he’d gotten married. I was happy for him, but the numerous references to his new spouse, their new lives together and the happiness he exuded just threw me right into a jealous, bitter mood that I had trouble shaking. I wish him all the happiness in the world, but it was a couple of difficult days while working with him. He didn’t know about Dwight, and I’m not sure if he would have said anything different because of it, so there’s that…
Once I was in a conversation about food, which led to a conversation about heartburn, which led to an exclamation by someone that the bad thing about it is that it felt a lot like a heart attack. Given that Dwight had a heart attack while thinking he had a bad case of heartburn…well…this threw me. for a little bit and I had to regroup privately in a nearby restroom.
Sometimes folks from other areas have ways of speaking to each other; when I travel south I get called “honey” a lot, but that’s usually by female wait staff, so I’m ok with that. But there was a time when a fellow from another area called me “baby”… I think he referred to females that way as a habit – he certainly wasn’t making a move on me, but I have no idea what he said after that word came out of his mouth. It was everything I could do to act like I was still listening to him while stemming back tears that threatened to erupt and throw a non-professional slant to our conversation.
Maybe I’m being a whiny brat. Maybe I’m not. Who knows? It’s something that I’ve been thinking about for quite awhile. Sometimes I just wish there was a way to subtly let people know that I’m still not back to normal without having the big “My husband died” / “I’m so sorry for your loss” interchange. I find that uncomfortable. I don’t want to make it all about me, so I don’t say anything. There’s just no way to send that message without taking conversations way off-topic, and I wish there was…
“Do you mind if we change the subject? I lost my husband recently and this is difficult to talk about.”
I wouldn’t mind one bit if you said that to me. I know you don’t want to make it all about you, but you’re the one who’s living this so for you, it absolutely is. Let go of caring about others for a bit and put yourself first.
I don’t see any reason why you cannot dress in mourning colors, if you want to. It may comfort you, and I think there are still a lot of people around who know what that means. One reason I took my wedding ring off, after 3 months, is, not exactly to advertise the fact that I am alone now, but, well, it just felt right to me. Perhaps people will look at my finger, see the indentation from long years of wearing it, and remember or know.
I could, but I don’t think it would have the impact/meaning it had 150 years ago.
I understand how you feel. I was on my 20s when my father had a heart attack and died. I was devastated. I took a bit of time off to help my mom but eventually had to go back to my job teaching at a middle school. I found it impossible to go to the mandatory prep rallies and ball games. Didnt these people know my world had ended and everything wasn’t back to normal? How could they just go on? I would of gratefully worn black to just acknowledge that I wasnt ok and I was trying but things were not normal for me.
I understand. I rarely do anything other than go to work and back. I’m just not in the mood and the plethora of people that keep saying “get out and do something, you’ll feel better” have obviously never been in our shoes.
I’m sorry you can relate. Hugs.