In the sixty three years of my life, one of the foremost aspects of my existence was that I was organized. Boy was I! I knew where I would be and what I would be doing months and years ahead.
Yes, I was secure in the knowledge of who I was and where I was going every day in every way. Food, meals, cleaning, working, trips – they were all in sync all the time. I would wake in the morning with the knowledge of where I would be – maybe even what I would be feeling or thinking that day at any given moment!
It has been a year and a half since the death of my husband. I have changed a lot – mostly in my approach to the world and everyone in it. On the brink of collapse and depression, I have lurched first in one direction and then the other. Self-destruction and self-elation have both been huge players in my existence during this time. I determined that I died too, when he died. That person I was, is no longer.
This last year has set me on my keester in many ways.
Some days, I don’t know what day it is and I don’t care.
Some days, I get nothing done in any way, and I don’t care.
Some days, I make no plans and guess what? I don’t care.
After all, who would know? After all, who would care?
I had to change all of this – as my husband said one day as he was deteriorating into a weakened state: “I’m going downhill fast”. Yes, I was going downhill too – and unlike my poor husband, I didn’t have to – I had a choice – so I made a decision…
I bought a house – away from my old one and close to a child of mine who had children too – wonderful children as all of my grandkids are…
I now don’t walk on the deck that he built and where he cried openly on the last day of his life from his wheelchair – knowing that this wonderful structure he built would no longer be a family centrepiece with him in the middle of raucous family get togethers. That realization – that moment in time – that great sad moment – will forever haunt me – and every time I set foot on that beautiful deck – his deck – I remember it and I weep too.
There are many moments like this one in that home that was our castle. There are also many glorious moments, but they only serve as a foil to what happens there now – nothing.
Sure, I tried to make the house mine and mine alone. I redecorated and changed up the furnishing and the colours. I attempted to revive the homestead – our dream home – into a single entity that identified who I was, but I discovered that I really don’t know right now. I have never existed alone, by myself, independent of dependents.
I don’t like it.
So, I changed it.
Now, in my new location, I am seeing kids on and off the school bus and baking bread and cookies for people who will accept them and smile.
I need to be needed. I need to be a real part of my family.
Yes, the new house is an experiment, but so far, I am living more than I have since dying.
I think this may be what it feels like to start over – REALLY!
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- Getting It Together October 26, 2015
- My Hun! October 3, 2015
- Third Anniversary October 3, 2015
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- The Flowers of My life September 12, 2015
- A Thousand Days September 2, 2015
- Today August 1, 2015
- The One Pushing the Wheelchair July 21, 2015
- We Never Said Goodbye June 5, 2015
- Me Without Him May 25, 2015
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- The Facial November 6, 2013
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- The Small Bag Doritos Conundrum November 4, 2013
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- Saturday Morning Muse about Breathing November 2, 2013
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