A Mixed Bag

This journey through the latest chapter in life without my life partner still seems like a bad dream at times.  Other times, I am almost complacent.   The good, bad and the almost surprising, weave in and out of the days and now nearly four months later in my untethered world.

Lately, days are full of laughter, nights not so much fun.  But all in all, surviving and soon thriving is my goal.

I sit at my desk in my new office, once occupied by Des, typing in a room full of light and books and memories and  files and family pictures.   Murphi is stretched alongside the computer screen, purring softly.  I peer out the window and see trees and sky. 

What does Des see, I wonder.  I feel his love here.    More so in church, and even in the supermarket, where I reach for his Oatmeal crunch cookies and remember to put them back.  Change surrounds me.  Life goes on.

My Wednesday afternoons are taken up with a grief group conducted byt the assisted living people associated with Hospice.  Went to my first one last week,  getting lost looking for a streed named Westinghouse that is behind a Tire store off Telephone.  I will go back again.  Seems to fit my needs.  The counsellor ended the session by having us share something humorous about our loved one.  We all did and left laughing.  How appropriate to celebrate his life this way. 

He used to tell me, I'll miss you when I'm gone.  Ain't that the truth.

So says Sassy  

Shifting Tides

I have been a widow for three months.  Grief comes and goes, not in the five stages reflected in books on death and dying.  I mourn in a crooked, winding path of sweet memories follwed by piercing guilt and empty wishes.  I skipped over denial.   I held Des when he breathed his last breath.  It came so easy, silently, peaceful.

Anger has no  place in my mourning.  Anger is for the living,  meaningless without  a target.  Void of  energy.   Yet, I am not embracing acceptance quite yet,  To embrace acceptance, I must consider the future.  Right now, ny goal is to live in the here and now.

His presence surrounds me, his voice breaks  through the silence  and I look at his snapshots, here and there around the house.  Silly ones, as wearing his green top hat mugging for St. Patrick's day, or staring patiently at his beloved cat, Murphi sprawled across his desk, scattering papers and notes without a reprimand.  His best buddy he calls him,  the guys, he calls our cats.  Of course, their female gender is not acknowleged.  Although he did once muse aloud about his household of females.  His harem I said.

This is my first blog since I stroked his face and told him he was going on a wonderful journey to see , at last, his brothers, Ep, Dick and Merle....his mother and father and friends who made a path for him to follow.   I told him to save a place for me.  I am comforted by my faith, family, friends and furry critters. 
 
 Des always said, sudden death, sudden glory.  Meanwhile, I plan not to waste this gift of life.   Love and gratitude - it is all there is.    

So says Sassy