Time gets away. What I thought was just a few days ago? 3 weeks now. Sigh.
My mind seems to turn to mush quicker these days than ever before.
So, if my words seem a bit "choppy"? They probably are. My thoughts are, so I guess I can't expect more from my words. :(
My heart stays in a constant state of weariness.
But I press forward with each new day, thru each long night.
Life goes on. Even in those moments when I would rather it didn't.
These last 2 months of 2018 weigh heavy on my heart, mind and soul.
A burden I can't get out from under, no matter how hard I try.
I miss my husband. My best friend. My lover. My confidante. The one who had my back no matter what.
I miss my daughter. The laughter she has always been able to make me have.
I miss my son. The love he gives, the support I know I have from him.
I miss my grandkids. The hugs and kisses, the snuggles and cuddles.
I miss my LIFE.
Rick's birthday is November 28.
The realization that he is forever 55 sits on my shoulders, weighing me down with thoughts, with memories, with a few regrets, with the missing of so much - both what he is missing, and what I am missing.
I realize that he is no longer in pain, he no longer suffers in any form. And for that? I am grateful.
He had enough of that the last 4 months to last many people a lifetime.
Doesn't make me miss him less.
Doesn't take the longing away, either.
Certainly doesn't remove the sweet memories of our life and times together.
Even tho others want me to stop thinking of him - accusing me of not being ready to "move on or forward" with my life.
I had a lifetime of loving him, since I was 10 years old.
We had a lifetime of growing up and beginning the process of growing old together.
I don't care what anyone says or thinks - You don't "get over" a loss like this. You don't "move on", either.
You GET THRU IT.
You MOVE FORWARD.
Why is it so hard for even other widows and widowers to just accept that for me?
I don't try to tell anyone else what to think, what to say or do, how to deal with their grief.
What has happened to that Golden Rule: "Treat others the way you want to be treated."
"Cast your bread upon the waters, and it will return to you multi-fold."
Thanksgiving is in 18 more wake-ups.
So many years of planning the menu, searching the recipes, buying the groceries, cleaning the house, and cooking. Oh, the cooking.
While our kids were growing up, we always had Thanksgiving at our house.
Rick's parents would come.
My momma came often.
It was a day of great feasting and loud laughter.
Once the kids grew up and left home to begin their own families and traditions, Thanksgiving wasn't so much any more.
It usually was a simple meal for Rick & I, or perhaps we would go to a buffet somewhere near.
The first Thanksgiving without Rick, I spent with our son & our daughter, and their families.
Laughter was strained.
I felt like I was in a fog, wandering lost.
The next 2 years of Thanksgiving were spent with friends.
Still feeling like I was wandering lost.
Not really fitting anywhere.
Not sure of what I should do, or shouldn't do.
Just out of "MY" place.
I feel the missing of all that was Thanksgiving.
Not just the times with Rick - but with my kids ... and then with my grandkids.
I am torn between forging ahead with whatever this year's Thanksgiving turns out to be, and renting a motel room just to sleep thru it.
Christmas is in 6 weeks, 2 days.
I barely remember that first Christmas without Rick. Putting on a strong shoulder, and a happy face, for my kids and grandkids.
The next 2 were spent with friends who opened their home to me, and did all they could do to make me feel a part of their traditions and celebrations.
Yet, I have been haunted thru all 3 previous Christmases without Rick -
with memories of all those with him, those with the kids, those with the grandkids.
The years. The gifts. The food. The smells. The sights and sounds.
How do you find a "new normal" for these days and weeks leading up to one day ... when Christmas comes but once a year?
I have not, will not, do not, expect life to be the same now without Rick as what it was for those 35 blessed years with him.
Not the good days, nor the bad.
Nothing is the same.
I wrote these words on January 10, 2018 - but never have they been more true, more real, than what they are today. Sharing a portion of them here again.
"The death of your spouse and life partner changes everything.
Every single thing.
I no longer eat the same way.
I certainly do not watch TV the same way.
Oh how I miss the morning after a show conversations over coffee!
My finances have changed, drastically.
I do not even breathe the same as I used to, not sure if I was breathing for the two of us then - - or now.
My body has gone thru changes these months since he died. I just thought going thru menopause was rough!
Hobbies & interests? Where do I even begin to describe the changes there?
Virtually non-existent for months ... just now finding my way thru the fog and looking for something to occupy my hands, my time, my mind.
My sense of security is gone. No longer do I know without question that someone has my back - - and my heart.
The realization of being alone hits hard, time after time.
As I lay down at night ... and as I rise up in the mornings.
This has given me a, shall we say "unique" & sometimes perverted or morbid, sense of humor.
I wonder if I am even still a woman at times.
Then when the woman in me chooses to wake up, thoughts & desires finding their way thru the darkness of grief - I wish she had just stayed asleep, quiet, and left me the Hell alone."
So, see, nothing really changes for a widow or widower.
You just learn to go with the day, make it the very best you can.
And on those days when memories, a life lived before, and changes now, all get in the way, overwhelming the heart and mind? Well, you breathe in and you breathe out.
Just knowing that life goes on - - even when you don't want it to, nor do you care whether it does or not.
At least for the moment, or for the day.
I am determined to find ME.
A combination of who I was before Rick, way back when I was a kid growing up - who I became as Rick loved me ... and who I am now, alone, lost, & wandering.
There has to be a ME somewhere inside, right?
But what do I do with ME if I find her?
Where am I supposed to be?
What am I supposed to be doing?
I feel like I am missing so much of living ... just trying to be alive.
I keep hearing Reba's song - "Is there life out there?" - playing like a recording in the back of my mind, day and night.
Do I dare?
I miss you.
I miss so much about you.
I miss ME when you loved me.