Well, I was wrong.
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| Photo by Jordan Steranka on Unsplash |
I made a mistake in thinking that I could end this blog. Turns out that I didn't stop crying and missing him. I was in pretty good shape through February when I went on a wonderful trip with my sister to New Orleans. Then in March it all hit me again. Memories of caregiving. Memories of his death. And good memories of how travel used to be for us. Memories of how he supported me even when I was foolish and in trouble with The Authorities. Memories of his hugs.
It was a fucking Lenty Lent. Easter didn't bring a whole lot of relief.
I have a writing assignment from Cindy, a memoir teacher at Sarah Lawrence, to write about friendship. My first draft began, "my best friend is dead." I scrapped that one and I'm going to write something funnier about how I don't know the rules of friendship and/or about how I don't know the hidden rules about doing friendship. Maybe something about the "Telephone Song" from Bye Bye Birdy and how I've always hated talking on the phone so in my youth I had few girlfriends.
AND the Presence touched down on the bed again last night. I'd thought it was gone.
The presence. Last summer when I was living downstairs, the Presence walked around upstairs so I heard footsteps. Now the Presence sometimes presses down the mattress at the foot of the bed.
Yes, I pray. Yes, I believe that "with God, all things are possible." (Though I also believe that the Creator doesn't fuck around with physics).
As my grief therapist said a few months ago, "You've never been a widow before. There's no right way." So here I am, a year and four months in and still bursting into tears in public.
So I move on, giving myself treats and challenges. This morning I bought unknown seats at three new operas being performed in San Francisco. They were reduced price because it's a "do it yourself" subscription. So I know I'm going down to the City at least three times during the next school year. Basically, the offer was a 26% discount if one buys a series and chooses the area in which one is to sit. Will always put us in "the gods." So I'm spending the money he wouldn't by sitting in the Grand Tier Premium somewhere (I'll know by summer).
I spend a lot of time by myself by choice. I am blessed with good friends who will be there if I ask but there is no one to whom I'm especially important. Big whoop. I know. Boo hoo. But this has been my condition for years. And at least I am child free so that having children who ignore me isn't on my heart.
I "just" need to get used to this existential aloneness the depth and length of which I'm just beginning to realize are immeasurable.
