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Being a Widow

My experience of dealing with grief as a widow


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Gone again...and some rugby

20 September 2004

I was going to blog about how I played my first rugby match yesterday. But then Jane phoned to say she will leave tomorrow morning at 6am and return on Friday evening as she has to go to Lancaster for something work-related. That means 3 whole nights on my own. Last week was only 1 and that was bad enough (Did I tell you I am actually a little scared to be home alone?). Ugh. I suppose I will learn to be alone so it is sort of OK but I just don't like it. On the other hand, I can drink, smoke and booze as much as I like now for the rest of the week.......will have to cycle to rugby training on Wednesday. And won't be able to go swimming for lunch as I have no transport to the pool. Just as well that Jane says she is getting paid handsomely for doing this.

Anyway, back to the rugby.

I played my first rugby match yesterday!! Yay!! Three cheers for me.

Well, I played part of it. Christ on crutches, these women are BITCHES. And I am SURE some of them were actually MEN and not women at all. Although they had tits, they were HUGE. There was no way I was ever going to tackle them. I just stepped aside when she stormed towards me. I like my face and I did not need her fingers clawing at my eyes, trying to poke them out! So instead the bitch pulled my ear!!! Being vile and vicious does not make you any friends on the pitch but hey, it wins you matches which is all you really want I guess. I can not even remember the score but I know we did not score a single point and conceded at least 5 tries. Humbug.

I only played the last 20 minutes when one of our players went out injured (read: it was already a lost cause by the time I came on...) One of our MANY players I should say. If I ever needed a reason why I don't like Jane playing rugby, I found it yesterday. There is no way I would be able to concentrate on the game if Jane was lying on the floor after a knock on the head. But when I came home, Jane said the same thing: that she is a bit scared that she will get a phone call telling her I am injured when playing. I guess that makes sense.

I was very scared to go on. I did not really want to play but the other girls were all nice and trying to help me. I still fucked up big time though. I was in the way most of the time.

See, I don't mind going on to the pitch knowing what to do and doing that wrong. After all, I still have a lot to learn. But I felt really horrible when I went onto the pitch not knowing what to do so I could never do it right. I did not know where to walk, who to tackle, when to take the ball, when to leave it alone, when to stay on the floor, when to get up, when to run, when to wait, when I was off-side, when I was on-side..... I knew nothing. This means other players had to coach me as well as play their own game.

I felt horrible and useless. And exhausted. And I consider myself to be quite fit with all the swimming and going to the gym.....I was totally exhausted.

But it is fulfilling its goal though: I am having fun off the pitch at leat and it is nice to have something for myself, something without Jane. After all, I don't do anything social without Jane. She is all the social contact I have. Or used to have. And that feels nice. Even though I am very stiff today, joining the rugby team is well worth all that.
And of course, no sport is complete without getting drunk in the bar afterwards. I am still not used to England's drinking culture. And I actually think that is a good thing so I have decided not to get used it. Ever. At all.


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