This is the first day of 2014. The first morning of the year. The first breakfast of the year. The end of the year that my husband never saw. He died in 2012.
I am mournful this morning for the first time in a long time. I am mindful of the absence of the one person in the world who knew me, respected me, loved me and guided me. To call him a “life partner” is no exaggeration. As much as all of my wonderful family have included me in their lives, they are their lives – not mine. I guess I have not re-invented my existence as well as I thought I had. How long does it take to move on so that each day once again becomes a gift – something worth working at and appreciating. How long does it take to breathe, exercise, eat, smile and relax without feeling guilty that you are here and he is not. How long does it take to be yourself again – I am not there yet by a long shot.
I will, as I have been, keep putting one foot in front of the other. I have lots to do, of course, like everyone else out there. I will take down the Xmas decorations (I did not enjoy them anyway), and organize a new storage room for them. I am going to actually label them well this year so as to lessen any confusion next year as to what goes where.
It won’t be until the weather warms up that I take down the huge number of lights outside. I sure am not looking forward to my next hydro bill!!
I will get out my snowblower and get that driveway cleaned off – my neighbour (bless his soul) cleaned it up yesterday once again. He is my hero.
I will stop over-eating and over-drinking because I am feeling sorry for myself or because I am trying to find excuses for over-indulgence. So what if it is Friday or Saturday – celebratory nights for Jim and I when we were both working. Special food was our way of having “us” time. I still try this – thinking the taste of steak and mushrooms will continue to give me that feeling of completeness or serenity like it did when Jim was here. It does not. We used to think we had the world by the tail – well the world has escaped our grasp for sure and I am wallowing in the imbalance that remains.
This story is full of the word “I” – because I am trapped inside my pain today. My apologies for not editing them out – it is easy enough to do but it would not express the great self-sympathy that is so much a part of this day.
Writing this has been a help to recognize feelings that engulfed my spirit this morning. No wonder I chose to be alone on purpose today. On to the tasks at hand.