Still figuring it out

Your death didn't just break my heart
it also changed who I was
it changed my entire world.

It taught me things I didn't 
want to learn.

I keep wanting to share everything
with you like before.

But now? I stand stunned
in empty rooms.
I don't know what to do.
I get stuck and just
stare
out a window.

Some days I mourn my old life with
you
as much as I mourn you.

Even when you were in Hospice 
and dying, we still talked. 

We still made decisions together.
Always together.

And now.
I have to make them ALL

on my own.

Some people think I should be 'over it' by now. After all, my caring for him has been a long journey. I should have been prepared. We spent 6 months together in the dying process. Each precious moment sometimes felt like forever.

I sometimes wish we had longer and know we didn't. 

The death of a close loved one changes you. 

For 30 years we were partners. Our lives were so intertwined that we were part of each other.
But your gone. So half of me is gone too.

But who am I now? I feel as if I am missing half of me. It is hard to figure out who I am. I have to recreate myself in some ways.
The joy of sharing my escapades and adventures is gone so what is the point of them? 

When I had a bad day, you'd comfort me, even if you weren't feeling well.

I'm trying to be normal around others and I think I pull it off pretty well. Most of the time. 

I'll sit at the gym before our class and listen to some of the ladies talk about pretty bullshitty stuff. Stuff that seems to not matter anymore, not to me at least. I wonder what would happen if I told them what I thought.

They'd just think I'm a nasty woman. Really? Makeup and gym tights are things worth fretting over?

 ~~~~

Death and grief changes you.
It changes your perspective on everything. I do mean everything.

And then comes a bad day. I mean bad enough that nothing goes right. 

For the very first time in my life, I could not do anything. I didn't care. I just sat in the quiet of the house and knew I had entered a place of emotional numbness. I felt nothing. Not even pain. 

Charlie crept into my lap and made no demands. 

For a whole day, I was lost. 

I gave myself that day. I had earned it.

It doesn't quite end until...

 ...the Fat Lady Sings.

No pictures. 

But we had the not-funeral funeral-celebration of Life.

It was comforting and really quite nice. One of Rich's hunting buddies from 25 years ago came up to me and held my hand as he re-introduced himself. 

I recalled him and the hunting dog he sold Rich that ended up being my dog. Tom. Tom was the name of the hound. 

Gary held my hand and we relived our hunting days and how much we enjoyed being out at night and listening to the hounds sing their treeing songs. If you ever saw the movie Where the Red Fern Grows, that was us. Hunting and loving our hounds.

The photos that went across the big screen kept a lot of folks entranced. I took so many photos of Rich over the years, what can I say, he was a great model.

Surprising that friends from Missouri came with their kids. I nearly lost it then. A girlfriend that I'd befriended in 6th grade came too. That blew my mind too. I felt the love and friendship with Rich's pals and my friends that came. It was comforting and just what I needed. 

I knew he meant something to a lot of people even if he never thought he did.

Steve, our good pal was there too. He and Dennis [my grandson via my stepdaughter] went off to talk fishing. Steve invited Dennis to go fishing with him next weekend on a special float on the Mississippi. I'm tickled as Rich always wanted to mentor Dennis in the ways of fishing and hunting. Now Steve, who is still reeling from Rich's death has found a way to pass on his knowledge to yet another generation.

How lucky can a grandma get? Dennis will come next Friday evening and then spend time with Steve learning and fishing.

After the cemetery, Ariel and Dennis came to the farm to spend time with me. They didn't travel with their parents so thought they'd come and just hang out  with me. They helped me move some old stuff out of the house and then asked if they could take me to supper. Their treat!

How on earth did I get this lucky to have grandkids that are so thoughtful?

My life going forward, will be held up to events like these and I'll realize that yes, Rich and I had something special and we passed it on to our grands [I hope].

I'll take it, one day at a time and keep recalling all of the joy my husband has given me.

One last note on family. Rich has a daughter and a very self centered sister. One of the relatives who happens to like me very much as I used to take her out to lunch once a month came up and whispered in my ear as she hugged me.

"Watch your back. If they don't get what they want they said there will be War."

Her eyes slid over to my stepdaughter and her husband as she stepped back. 

And dearly beloved, I have no idea what that is supposed to even mean.

The story of Rich's time may have passed but it seems another story will unfold.

Hopefully, those that said that were blowing off steam or have no idea how the laws work for married couples. [Especially married couples who went to attorneys to make sure everything was in place in our estate.] One of the very reasons these days in a blended family to make future plans and write up a rock solid Estate Plan.

War, indeed. Bring it on. Apparently the step thinks I'm sitting on her husband's retirement goldmine and it should be theirs.