Just may be the cracking of the dam that I've so carefully built over the last sixty odd years. In one of those fits of "I really have to DO something about this mess," I started picking up the piles of stuff that have grown around my chair. Part of it was the need to clean (I know, it sounds foreign to me too), part of it is curiosity as to what's actually there, and part of it is to find my crochet hook that just grew legs and walked away. Anyway, there are still things there that are where Lee left them. I know. He died 15 months ago tomorrow. I never claimed to be either prompt or tidy. anyway, one of the things I came across was the fanny pack Lee used when we traveled. It still contained two batteries for his digital camera, with prices in euros, and a postcard of Paris. That was it. I started weeping for my late husband--or my widowed state--or my health--or my unemployed state. But it was Lee and that next to last trip with him that started it off.
I never really let myself mourn Lee's passing. At first, I was holding myself together for Glenn and Elaine, and doing the things that needed doing. Then, too, he'd been sick for so long and there were so many close calls, that I got a lot of the weeping out beforehand. There was Thanksgiving and Christmas to get through--not to mention a torn meniscus in my left knee. Then as I was reestablishing normal, along came cancer, the infection, chemo, and radiation. Now that's over, I'm taking iron to combat the anemia, energy is starting to seep back. Through the magic of fate and procrastination, I'm now back in August 2007, still having to decide what to do with Lee's things--and cry over them.
The weather is matching my mood, but that is an excessively good thing because we are so dry. Let it rain.
And there are good things today. It is Saturday and it is November and I can watch college football all day and all evening. I watch it even if I've never heard of the schools before. Right now, it is half time of the Stanford-Oregon game. Yes, I've heard of both schools. I'm torn as to who to root against. Cal/USC will be on at five, and I'm ready for that. Cal all the way, of course--and yes, I believe in miracles.
So that's it for now--half time is over and I'm feeling somewhat better. I know it is perfectly OK for me to be sad. If it doesn't come out in tears it will come out in more destructive ways. So I'm better and not kicking myself over the waterworks.
Go Bears!
xxooxx
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3 comments:
To everything, my dear Anne, there is a season. Let it rain.
love to you,
KQ
Great isn't it, how the return of energy means more energy to do fun things like be sad. As I said, feel free to call and snivel whenever you want. Even mewl and puke... just make sure you're at your own house for those.
The feelings come when they come - usually at the most unexpected or inconvenient times. I'm glad to hear you're just letting them come as they will - no use trying to stop them up, cause then they'll just leak out somewhere else, as you know. Love you -
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