AKA "The Writing Woman"
Day two of my solo journey started out okay. I awoke to great weather in Bowling Green, Kentucky – warm and sunny. It was strange packing the car by myself. I always traveled with Rick and he usually packed while I finished dressing. I’ll admit, Rick spent most of our marriage finding things to do…
Dear Rick, I made it through another significant day. Our first date was March 9, 1996. We celebrated the occasion every year, and yesterday was a tough one. I had to pause a few times during the work day to cry. I just miss you so terribly that I can’t stand it. I think back…
Hope. I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. It happens. I lay there contemplating why. Why today? Why is it so difficult to get up this morning? I realized that today I feel no hope. No hope of ever enjoying my life again. No hope for a future that is meaningful. No…
I’m moving on.
I’ve taken pictures of your office, as you had it when you were here. It’s my attempt to maintain your memory. The office was you: your art, your collections, your special retreat filled with all your favorite things, gadgets, technology.
Your blue chair – the ugly Early American monstrosity – is still there where it was relocated after many an argument when you rescued it from your mother’s basement. NO. It CANNOT stay in our living room! I disagreed with having it in the house, let alone our modern Ikea-furnished living room. Finally, you capitulated (after how many arguments?) and removed it to your office.
Dear Rick, I have missed so much about you since you’ve been gone. I miss your love. I miss your touch. I miss your intelligence and wit and quirky sense of humor. I miss your huge strong body, and your muscles and your hugs. I miss your unequaled and nonjudgmental acceptance of all that I…
Dear Rick, I don’t feel the grief all the time anymore. In the beginning, it was like a giant fog, like a veil over my face and head, over my life. I thought about you constantly. I couldn’t stop. Everything was a memory. When I was alone, all I could do was immerse myself in…
Today, I was reminded that oursitegallery.com is going to expire. That’s the website we created to show clients works in progress. Rick stored lots of files there when he was working on menus, flyers, and other print media. He used it as a backup as well as a location for client files. Last May, when…
I’m angry. I’m angry at life. I’m angry that he was taken from me. I’m angry that I’m sitting here alone on a Sunday morning staring at his picture and wondering how to fill this day. I’m angry that he won’t be joining me at breakfast – our breakfast – our special time on a…
The sadness is back. Maybe it’s because I’m trying too hard to make plans, to think to the future. Maybe I’m not ready to let go of the past. This morning, everything seems to trigger a memory. I was getting used to going a few hours, or maybe even all day, without thinking of him,…
Dear Rick, So, here I am, feeling really proud of myself for handling my new normal. I’m not crying all day anymore. I’m functioning. I’m planning a future without you. I’m being me, again, not always “us.” I’m planning my bucket list. I’m finding substitutes to try to fill the role you played in my…