Rule #23 – Focus…
Dear Hub,
I can’t believe it’s been two years since you left. I
remember each moment of the last few days together like it is still going on,
and I’m watching a horror movie. You did leave peacefully. But since then, so
much has changed. They say the second year is harder than the first. And the ubiquitous "they" are right.
The grief never went away. It gets less painful with each
birthday, anniversary, and holiday. But it’s never gone. I really did feel like
I lost a vital part of my being when you left. Like I had an amputation… and I
still have some phantom pain in my heart.
But I’m writing this to let you know that I’m doing better
this year… we are all doing better this year. I’ve taken steps to improve my
life without you. It hasn’t been an easy task at all. Just those words “without
you”… they are such a huge hurdle to get over.
All of the financial things were taken care of immediately.
I took my own advice and now have a will, with hand-written codicils for
specific items. I will keep as much money out the hands of the state of Maryland
as I can, just as you wished. But no, I will not move out of state. I will stay
within a day’s drive of our kids. Your sister is finding out that the state of Texas
isn’t the retirement gold mine she thought. Not sorry we didn’t move down there
at all. It’s too hot there anyway.
I did clear most of your clothes out. Some worthy person will
be wearing your work clothes. The flannels are the real exception. That was
your trademark. Each person will get a shirt, and how they honor you with it is
their choice. I did find your travel tee shirts. Your cousin offered to quilt
them up for me. I will take her up on it. Your ties – all of them- will go to
our soon-to-graduate-into-the-business world nephews. You hated ties anyway. I
found myself back in grief counseling after I was finished and everything was
out of the house.
Now the big project is the basement, or better known as your
Cave. I can’t figure out why you liked it dark and stuffy, but you did. Lots of
the piles of things you kept are now gone. I have a person who may want the
radio equipment that is left. I got the basement door replaced and it no longer
needs a jamb to keep it closed. It’s also mouse-proof. Next job is the windows…
getting security block windows down there. That type of window gives more
natural light. Through the winter coming up, I want to finish off the basement
with better walls and traffic flow. I want it to be a useable space for anyone,
and not to look like a Cave anymore.
This year, I was able to garden more. I had no desire last
year. But now I need to clean out the gardens, get the leaves up and mulch
them, and get things ready for winter. I had the energy this year. And I need
to do this myself.
I haven’t written as much, but my muse is coming back.
Slowly but surely coming back… I was able to work with the dog book and the
snow dance book this year. I even submitted the snow dance to an agent for
critique. There is hope for this writing career and I’m willing to be patient
and enjoy the process of writing and researching. You were not so patient. I
remember you saying that everything I wrote should be published immediately and
I should make a million dollars. Not sure I want the IRS headaches of a million
dollars. I just want to enjoy what I’m doing.
Some other things… the Orioles made in to the championship
level of the playoffs this year. The Ravens aren’t doing too badly either. Yes,
I am having baseball withdrawal symptoms already. I went to spring training
last year, and had a blast. But I did it by myself. It was great to explore Sarasota.
I met up with lots of our friends and got to walk around lots of gardens –
something you were not too keen on doing (the garden thing). But when I turn on
the classic baseball games on MLB network, I can hear you moaning out loud,
“You’re kidding me!”
Our daughter is getting married next year… but you knew
that. You found a way to let her know you approve of her choice. And he is a
great guy. You would be so proud of how the wedding is coming together. I’m
glad we put money aside for it, too. I’ve been able to give her a great venue
and caterer for next year. They are taking care of the rest of it all. And her
dress… well, it’s gorgeous. She’s going to look fantastic walking down the
aisle. But you are missed through this whole process. Oh, so much!
There are times I feel so alone, without you. I talk to the
walls out loud like I talked to you. It’s as if you are still around. Now if
I’m caught talking like this, I’m sure there will be psychotherapy recommended.
Maybe it’s time I allow myself to possibly start dating again. Not sure how to
do that, since it’s been so long. I’m just trying to be happy and productive in
life. I’m not used to focusing only on myself.
You’ll be happy – or jealous – to know my health is still
good. My blood work numbers are all normal – something that drove you crazy. I
did join Weight Watchers to bring the tonnage under control. And I am
exercising, though not as much as I should. I’ve got to change that, and I
will. Baby steps, Hon, baby steps…
Yes, Love, I’m getting things done around the house here.
I’m still traveling. I’m taking care of myself. I’m seeing the kids and our
mighty hockey playing grandson as often as possible. I’m still involved with
church activities. Garden club is still my neighborhood connection. I am in
group therapy for the social part of moving on. I’m ready to embrace the next year
without you to see where it leads.
But I’m still doing all of this without you. And I miss you
beyond words. But don’t worry about us at all… we will be ok. Yes, just ok…
because you aren’t here to share all of this with.
And now to focus on life…
With all my love,
Me
