Bike Britches and Bank Balances

 

our town is known as 
The Horse Capital of the World.

The two weekends a month when my name is not on the schedule to greet at church, we watch the service on-line, dressed casual and sipping mugs of hot flavored coffee. That was the case today. It was the early service and therefore too soon for lunch after the benediction, so we got out our bicycles and went for a ride. 

My new identity since Beloved's passing gave me not only the title of "widow" but after meeting Gary, "newlywed." Another change with my new identity has been specific clothing I did not need in my "previous life," so to speak. 

We ride our bikes several days a week, depending on the weather -- we've had a lot of wind this winter which makes a formidable ride when headed into it. But no matter the forecast, I've learned appropriate clothing makes the ride easier. 

Spandex shorts, capris, and ankle-length pants give comforting support, warmth, and cool, as needed.  If I shop carefully, I find them with long, deep pockets down the side of the thighs for carrying my cell  phone. Mine are black so they don't clash with any other colors I'm wearing.

Visibility to traffic is very important, so for a shirt or jacket, I wear that chartreuse yellow-green or a nearly glow-in-the-dark orange. We have those webbed-fabric vests seen on road construction workers, too.  

my bodyguard

We have helmets, too. When Gary wears his with sun glasses, he looks like a highway patrolman (which is a hint at the kind of work that employed him years ago).

Mine is a shade of aqua blue (see top photo) that serves me well but definitely messes with my hairstyle. (a price I pay for physical fitness)

breakfast for Sunday lunch

Gary makes our Sunday lunch every week and it's a filling meal. Scrambled eggs, bacon fried real crisp, and cheesy grits. My contribution to today's plate was fresh cherries from South America -- note: they weren't that good. I'll be waiting until cherry season here in the USA before I buy more. 

The above paragraphs address that part of today's blog title regarding Bike Britches. But before I move on to 'bank balances" I'll segue through the cemetery.

This past week was the two-year anniversary since Edith's passing. On that day we made a trip to the cemetery to leave flowers at the graves of our dear ones. It's been nearly two months since our last visit when we placed Christmas wreaths at their headstones.

photo amended for privacy

As much as we try to move on with our lives, and we are doing exactly that, the feelings of losing a mate is something that never goes away. Memories from decades of shared living are frequent. I think it's inevitable that significant life lessons come with those reflections. This brings me to that other part of my blog title for today, "Bank Balances." 

A painful lesson I've learned is something I need to share with my readers with the hope my experience is helpful to those for whom it applies. In my marriage to Beloved, he took care of all the finances. All of them. 

Well, wait. Let me amend that. I knew how to spend. But he took care of providing, processing, and making sure I knew the spending limits. I was not a spendthrift, but I did not balance the checkbook. My husband loved math, finances, and being the one to deal with it. 

In looking back I now realize that when he died, not only was I grief-stricken for missing his loving companionship, but I was terrified to face the banking matters. I knew there was enough for my needs but I did not know how to manage it. My fear was mismanagement on my part.

Blessedly (and let me repeat that, blessedly), a family member stepped in to be my bookkeeper. An excellent handling of everything followed, which dispelled much of my fear. 

But I knew in the deep part of myself that I should have enough character to take this on. I was ashamed of myself for not having taken on some of the management of our finances while I still had Beloved to teach me.

Be thou diligent to know

the state of thy flocks,

and look well

to thy herds.

Proverbs 27:23

After two years of responsible management of my books, the time had come for my family member to turn the matter over to me. The Lord has been my helper (and my family member has thoroughly answered all my questions during the transition). 

This is a deeply personal revelation I've shared with my readers but it's in keeping with other aspects of my grief journey I've shared. I am certainly not alone in how widowhood has affected me. May my experience be a lesson for others to consider and perhaps implement while there is time to do something about it. 

In my last post I talked about preparing for last things. My conclusion of these matters is to urge us all to, as much as a person can, plan ahead. 

Until next time, grace and peace.