{"id":36947,"date":"2022-11-05T00:01:12","date_gmt":"2022-11-05T07:01:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/barbarafalconernewhall.com\/?p=36947"},"modified":"2026-06-06T08:46:49","modified_gmt":"2026-06-06T08:46:49","slug":"my-husband-keeps-dying-on-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/my-husband-keeps-dying-on-me\/","title":{"rendered":"Widowed: My Husband Keeps Dying on Me"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"my<\/a>
My husband keeps dying on me. His unused recumbent bike, for one, reminds me that he is gone. Photos by Barbara Newhall<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

It’s been a full eighteen months since Jon’s death, but even now my husband keeps dying on me.<\/p>\n

It happened again the other day. The November weather was wet and chilly, so instead of taking a walk I thought I might use Jon’s recumbent bike to get a little exercise.<\/p>\n

Jon bought that bike during the pandemic shut-down, and it has sat — unused since his death — in a sunny corner of Christina’s old bedroom.<\/p>\n

It Was Jon’s Bike<\/strong><\/h5>\n

I can’t stand to look at that bike, let alone use it. It was Jon’s bike, and Jon is still taking up space on it. If I go to that end of the room and I get too close to it, I cry.<\/p>\n

Getting close to that bike is one thing. Using it is another. If I used<\/em> that bike, my thinking has been, it wouldn’t be Jon’s bike any more. It would be mine. And if it’s my bike and not Jon’s, then Jon really is gone.<\/p>\n

Still, it was cold and wet outside the other day and I needed some exercise, so I decided to give the bike a try. I went around to that corner of Christina’s room, put my hands on the handlebars, and was informed — again, but as if for the first time — that Jon was dead.<\/p>\n

I wept again, as if for the first time.<\/p>\n

My Husband Keeps Dying on Me<\/strong><\/h5>\n

Jon does that. My husband keeps dying on me. Several times a week, I’m wrenched from my now reasonably contented life back to that telephone call from the hospital on the night he died.<\/p>\n

I couldn’t take it in then, and I can’t take it in now.<\/p>\n

So, most of the time I keep that phone call blocked, sealed off from my days like a gall<\/a> on an oak tree. But, every now and then, the call gets through and the news is forced on me afresh.<\/p>\n

In tears, I decided against riding the bike. I left it undisturbed at the sunny end of Christina’s bedroom and resolved to take a walk instead.<\/p>\n

For that I’d need my winter coat. Where was it? In Peter’s old bedroom closet probably.<\/p>\n

\"deceased-man's-clothes<\/a>
Jon’s winter coat is still stored in its yellow garment bag in a bedroom closet.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I went to Peter’s room, opened the closet door, and there was Jon’s winter coat, hanging in its garment bag.<\/p>\n

I paused. Winter’s coming, I thought, and it’s a warm coat. I should give it to someone who needs it. I pulled the coat out of its bag and draped the heavy thing across my arm.<\/p>\n

And there he was again. Jon. Dying on me. Tears.<\/p>\n

I put the coat back in its bag, where I could have it but not think about it, and I willed myself to attend to the business at hand — how to get some exercise today.<\/p>\n

I found my winter coat. I put it on. It was nice and warm. I took a walk.<\/p>\n

More about exercise and feeling great at “Oops, I Forgot to Do My Kegels. I Blame the Coronavirus.”<\/a>\u00a0 More about looking great — sorta — at “Mad Man Exposes the ’60s Girdle – But Will She Get It Off in Time?”<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\"pandemic-shut-down-recumbent-bike\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It’s been a full eighteen months since Jon’s death, but even now my husband keeps dying on me.\u00a0 Read more.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":49272,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[103,187,34,2642,191,29,2534],"class_list":["post-36947","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-widowed","tag-aging","tag-death","tag-dont-miss","tag-exercise","tag-grief","tag-jon","tag-recumbent-bike"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36947","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=36947"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36947\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":49275,"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36947\/revisions\/49275"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/49272"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=36947"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=36947"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=36947"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}