Out of the Slippery Pit


By Linda Palucci

ISBN: 978-1-84747-656-2
Published: 2008
Pages: 48
Key Themes: cancer, loss, mourning, widowhood, support of friends



Garth Brooks had a song a few years back- “The Dance” even now when I hear it, I cry.

“I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the Dance”

But lots of things still make me cry. I know I am not alone. Many widows still cry, over songs, or just about any thing that triggers a memory.

This is my story of the death and 1st year of widowhood. It is all true. I wrote it to try and make sense of what was happening.

It still hurts, that is the best way to describe it. It Hurts! A pain in my stomach like someone punched me, took my breath away. I really did not think I could go on alone.

You never know, you just never know.

You could be sitting at your kitchen table and an airplane could fall on your house or an earthquake could destroy your world as you know it, or a doctor could say, “It’s a brain tumor, inoperable”.

We sat in the Doctor’s office. Gene and I, so that was the reason for his headaches and double vision.

This is my story, my plunge from happy wife, into “The Slippery Pit” When we lose our spouse we are not ourselves any more.

After 32 years, no where near enough time, I would be alone again. I could not even grasp it. My mind could not accept it.

This is my story from that tragic announcement through the first year of widowhood.

About the Author

Linda Palucci came into the world at 4 AM one summer morning in 1940. The only child of Ruth and Larry Northrup.

She grew up with some really good friends and somehow got through school, which she hated. At school they kept saying, she’s college material. But there was no money and she did not even consider going. She graduated high school Friday night and started a job Monday morning at the phone Co. She was a “long distance operator” as they were called in the late 50’s.

Linda was always sure she was an “accident” and that most people are. She never felt special until she met Gene. It was a good match. They had 5 children; they were an average family, if there is such a thing.

Now she lives in Connecticut, by herself, near family and friends. She is a cancer survivor; she has had a laryngectomy, and works in a gift shop at the local zoo.

Book Extract

The first time was rough. I sat there wondering what am I doing here? The men were not appealing, and the music was too loud. I felt dead inside. Three gals I met at THEOS - a group for widow/widowers - and I, have been going to a couple of single dances, lately.

Rosemary, the proprietor, asked why I was not dancing. I burst out, "I can't feel the music!" This was true, the music was gone. Nothing seemed important. I was so tight. "THEY" say "IT" gets better in time, if one works at "IT". In the beginning a widow can sit at home and cry. After a while, "THEY" say she must get back into the world. Pick up the pieces, and make a new life.
Like the Phoenix, from the ashes of before.

I sat there with tears I could not restrain, running down my cheeks. It has been almost one year.
When do you begin to feel like a person again? I am trying.
"THEOS" stands for They Help Each Other Spiritually. To join you must be a widow or widower. It is helpful for new members to associate with those who have survived widowhood for various lengths of time. I believe only someone who has experienced the death of a spouse can really understand the pain and confusion.
Maybe only children, as I am, can adjust simply because we start out alone. We had only ourselves to depend on when we were young. I don't know if this is true or not, just a personal theory. Or, it makes us feel more alone.

I remember clearly when the horror started. I had gone to work. Our daughter Cheryl had taken Gene to the Doctor. He had been experiencing headaches and double-vision for a few weeks and went to check it out. The doctor had suggested an eye exam. He'd also had him get an MRI. I had never heard of an MRI, that I could remember.
Now, today he would see what our Doctor had found.
He recommended a Neuro-surgeon.
Gene called me at the office. "It don't look good for The Kid," he said, referring to himself, as "The Kid".
"What do you mean?" I whispered, my heart suddenly racing. I knew in my head what he meant, but my heart did not want to hear it. That was it. That simple sentence, the beginning of hell.

In the beginning the Nero-surgeon said, "It's not life-threatening."
At first they were not certain if it was a stroke or tumor.

June 10th, 1991. I lost my husband.

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This product was added to our catalog on Wednesday 18 June, 2008.

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