Off The Cuff: A wry look at life

Women are made of sterner stuff. Than men.

I have seen this illustrated over the years, time and again. My father has settled in a lovely area inhabited by retired army, air force and naval officers. An extremely well planned colony, self-sufficient in every way. Individual houses on large plots of land, not a single multi-storey building anywhere in sight.

The women of my parents' generation were generally housewives, who spent their time tending the home and hearth. Then their husbands retired from service, and suddenly were underfoot all the time, unable to come to terms with retirement. Perhaps feeling a little resentful and unappreciated.

But their wives continued to keep busy and generally encouraged them to do the same. One keeps bumping into these retired officers - at the bank, post office, army canteen or shopping centre. Trying to look as busy and important as when they were in service.

Gradually, the cycle of life turns full circle. And death deprives some couples of their dreams of togetherness. Followed by the coming to terms with living alone. Children long since gone to other cities or countries. The experience painful but educative.

I have seen women who have never gone to a bank or driven a car now doing all these things. Learning all those things that they wouldn't have dreamt of while their husbands were alive. They learn driving so that they can be independent. Learn to operate a bank account, pay their bills and do the household shopping. A task which was generally given to the husband. But now he's not there to lean on. But they manage. And wonderfully well. You see them coping with their loss, learning how to live on their own. Lonely existence occasionally enlivened by the arrival of children and grandchildren on holiday. Only to be left alone to get on with life after that all too short holiday comes to an end.

On the other hand, you see a lot of widowers. Looking absolutely lost. No wife to look after their every need. Men who never entered the kitchen if they could help it, now having to worry about making arrangements for take-away meals. Venturing into the kitchen in the morning to make their own cup of tea or coffee. Things they took for granted for so many years. Now they are adrift in this frightening expanse of time, unable to come to terms with the blow life has dealt them. They age rapidly and look lost and forlorn.

I don't mean to imply that the widows look happy and carefree. The difference is that they have come to terms with life, have made the best of the cruel hand dealt by fate. Learned to survive. Gracefully. In charge of their lives and themselves.

Proving that they are stronger, emotionally and mentally.

A woman is the heart of the family. I'm not saying that the menfolk in her house cannot manage on their own if she's away. They will get on with their work and generally look after themselves. But wait patiently for her return. They realise her intrinsic value. Having taken for granted all the things she does so unobtrusively to make their house a home. It's not the houseful of servants who do this. It is her meticulous supervision of every creature comfort that they have taken as their right.

It's never too late to appreciate a mother or a wife. Take a few minutes to take stock of everything you have to be thankful for. And you'll realise that most, if not all, are linked to the heart of the house. Take time to listen to that heartbeat and marvel at its efficiency and reliability. That which makes everything tick.