I made it through day one of my driving trip from Michigan to Florida. I had three small meltdowns triggered by songs on the radio, plus some memories that surfaced as I passed through locations we visited on past trips.
Three days ago was the seven month anniversary of Rick’s death. In the months after he died, I never imagined that I’d go back to Florida this year. I feared how painful it would be to experience a vacation and sunsets without him. But once I started seeing all the memories of last year pop up on Facebook and Timehop, I realized I can’t and won’t avoid those memories. The final impetus was when Rick’s daughter told me she imagines that his spirit is on the beach in Florida waiting to see me.
And that’s when I realized, Rick would want me to go. Rick would tell me to get out and live my life – as he lived his! He survived months of chemo and radiation and still got in that car last year despite low blood counts and the exhaustion from enduring so much. I wouldn’t have had the strength to do what he did every single day before his body finally gave out. He rose from that bed and tried! He tried to walk, to build his strength, and to live in the moment, every moment.
I feel really positive about my decision to go and enjoy the place we loved and the memories we shared. But, I think since I decided to go, I’ve just been on autopilot – getting things ready and making my itinerary, packing, arranging the house sitters. As I started the car in my driveway today, and it became real, I thought – What the hell am I doing? This is going to hurt! I can’t do it!
It probably will be painful, but every day hurts living in the home we shared. Every time I go to the places we dined and shopped, it hurts all over again. But I know he’s going with me, and I know he’ll be there on the beach beside me, so I drove down the street and got on the highway.
When I checked into my hotel tonight, this old song popped into my head. I started singing it to myself and caused meltdown #4. I hadn’t thought of this old standard in years, and it certainly fits how I feel about this first trip to our favorite vacation spot without Rick by my side.
These words, especially, voice how I feel:
I’ll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you
Here’s a link to the song by Anne Murray.
I’ll Be Seeing You lyrics –
I’ll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through
In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children’s carousel
The chestnut trees
The wishing well
I’ll be seeing you
In every lovely summer’s day
In everything that’s light and gay
I’ll always think of you that way
I’ll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you
I’ll be seeing you
In every lovely summer’s day
In everything that’s light and gay
I’ll always think of you that way
I’ll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you