Enough activities in a day will
keep my mind busy most of the day. Being physically tired at day’s end
guarantees a few hours sleep, but just when I start to get caught up in my new
life, that hole in my heart opens wide, aches hard and I cry, not like these
award winning actresses, who squeeze out one poignant tear, oh no, this old
girl sobs.
According to the Tao as I
understand it, the key to happiness is accepting reality each day. Accepting
the new reality means letting go, accepting that never again I’ll hear my
husband’s voice saying, “I love you.” There’ll be no hugging, hand holding, no
more knowing looks or inside smiles. I could go on, but my nose is starting to
run. I don’t like to think how much I miss him; it hurts too much. Okay, let’s
just say, “I’m working on it.”
The new stuff is just as freaky.
What do you mean new stuff? That would be everything I’m doing, now, without
him. Shortly after Kirt died I went to a restaurant, the waitress showed me to
my seat, as she handed me the menu she asked, “Will anyone be joining you?” I
started to say my husband, but sputtered and stuttered, getting tongue tied, so
I bit my lip and shook my head, no. I’ll be dining alone is freaky new stuff,
shopping for one. All of my decisions are about my wants and needs, actually, I’m
beginning to embrace that one, but sometimes it feels so guilty.
Accepting that I have no one to
share all those special little moments in life with me; how is that going to
help me be happy? Perhaps, I’m being obtuse about this, grrr, so be it.
My life is getting busy again; busy
is good up to a point. Thanksgiving is
coming, the first in 45 years without him; how do I embrace this? I don’t know,
but I’m tired of hurting. I could embrace some healing, if I knew what that
was.
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