Widows and Dining....I have been thinking about this for a couple of days. I have gotten into a horrible habit since my husband died. I live alone so its just me...all day...every meal. I have this awesome place on my couch that screams "safety zone". I write books there, make phone calls there, crochet there, and cry there. But the thing I do the most is EAT all my meals there. My dishwasher is full of Tupperware...no plates. I use to make huge dinners for my family and friends and my kitchen table was the center of the universe...now it is bare. Since I am recovering from a scary shit depression, I've decided to make subtle changes in my life and leave the couch and force myself to sit at the table again. Last night for dinner I had a bowl of soup in a bowl, with a placemat....and a flower on the table just for kicks and giggles. I made myself find a moment of normalacy. It was hard but it felt nice for lack of a better word. We deserve a table setting, a table, and an understanding that we are all capable of small changes when we are ready.