"Linda! Linda! How wonderful to hear from you. I was worried, doggonit!
So, you have a new townhome, huh? Gosh! I've been thinking of a townhome setup for myself as well. I just can't seem to get this house in order to sell, though. (To…"
"Hi Cindy I been gone for a while but I am back hope you are well things have change for me I move into a town house great no kids move on there own about time to old to live with me hope to here from you take care Heart 1980 Linda"
"Linda, dear, you are staying up too late (I'm saying that with a smile :) )...but so glad to see your message. Yes, I have a love/hate relationship with Saturdays and Sundays. I love days where I don't HAVE to be anywhere, but... and there…"
"Hello, Linda. So glad to see your comment on my page. So, your Gary loved flowers, huh? How nice that yard sounds...filled to bursting with flowers!
I don't know, Linda...I think if you surrounded yourself with the things Gary loved doing in…"
"I am checking in again with you, my friend. Thought about you all night. I hope today was good to you. I was reading your comment to me again, and I was thinking how time seems to be suspended, doesn't it? Seven years, nineteen…"
"Hello, Heart. You know, I'm feeling the same way. I just logged in and have been reading comments that sound just like us...feeling lonely, lost. But the first word that comes to my mind is 'hollow'. I just feel so incredibly hollow.…"
Linda! Linda! How wonderful to hear from you. I was worried, doggonit!
So, you have a new townhome, huh? Gosh! I've been thinking of a townhome setup for myself as well. I just can't seem to get this house in order to sell, though. (To tell you the truth, I just hate the thought of doing all the work without Rick. He could do anything...and now I'm dependent on strangers. I just really dread it.) I did re-roof the house. It was time and it was expensive, but at least it is done...whether I stay here or go somewhere else.
Are you still in Lincoln? How was your winter? I bet you were eyeball deep in snow! (I lived in Columbus Ohio as a kid and we got 5 feet of snow one winter storm....I'll never forget it...I had a blast!)
Spring is finally here in Georgia and it is sooooo pretty! Flowers and trees and bushes are blooming all over the place. The pollen is rolling through the streets in clouds, though. It really bothers a lot of people...but not me, thankfully. Though it does get stuck to my contacts!
How are you feeling, Linda? Are you getting out much and spending time with friends?
I hope you are well and as happy as you can be, my friend.
Linda, dear, you are staying up too late (I'm saying that with a smile :) )...but so glad to see your message. Yes, I have a love/hate relationship with Saturdays and Sundays. I love days where I don't HAVE to be anywhere, but... and there is always that 'but' now...how I wish Rick was here to hang out with.
I am trying my darnedest to stay busy! Now...when I say 'busy' I don't mean anything grand like painting the whole house...I mean doing the dishes, cleaning windows, laundry, you know. Ho hum.
But I have been drawing much more than I used to. I drew a picture of Rick that turned out so well I wasn't ashamed to frame it! So, it launched me into drawing pictures of everyone else! My grandson, my daughters, friends at work. I'm really into it again and really enjoy it. The hours just fly by before I know it. But it isn't the life I planned for...hoped for. Just drawing each day away. But it is a part of a new life I am making without any real plan.
I also feel like fleeing this house. I am torn between wanting to stay in the last place I lived with Rick and running like my butt is on fire into a new place...clean...no memories. But, you know...Rick will be with me anywhere I go. And right now, its the best thing financially to stay where I am. My daughter lives with me too (thank goodness!), though I don't see her a lot. She is working, going to school, running the road with friends. But it is so nice knowing she will be home each day...even if its late. I love to see her living her life and being with her friends.
She and her sister are so very broken hearted over losing their dad. They loved him soooooo much and he was such a wonderful daddy. He ended up being the marshmellow and I was the disciplinarian. That used to really irk me, but looking back, I'm so glad it went the way it did.
Hello, Linda. So glad to see your comment on my page. So, your Gary loved flowers, huh? How nice that yard sounds...filled to bursting with flowers!
I don't know, Linda...I think if you surrounded yourself with the things Gary loved doing in life it might help you. Even if you have to buy the flowers in pots. Maybe you can place a few pots on the back porch, in the window sill. Maybe it would make spring and summer more bearable if you saw flowers every day...just like you did when Gary was physically here.
I can't help thinking that Gary wouldn't want you not to have those flowers. Each one you see could be a reminder that his spirit is with you every second.
That is how I feel about Rick. He was a carpenter...really, a craftsman. He could make absolutely anything. He carved the neatest tree from a log with a chainsaw once. It looks like it came out of a Dr. Seuss book! It is so unusual. I just love it. It sits on the fireplace shelf so that I can see it every day. And once, he traced his hand with a pencil on a piece of oak. He was testing out a new jig saw he bought and he cut his traced hand out of that wood. When he showed it to me, I just fell in love with it. That was my Rick's hand! It's funny, but looking back on that day when I held that wooden outline of his hand in mine, I remember having the strong feeling to keep it. I told Rick I wanted to keep it and he thought it was a little silly. He said it was only a piece of wood. Oh no, I said to him. This is much, much more.
I still have it. I have Rick's hand traced in oak right beside my bed. I reach out and grab it quite often. It is rough on one side and smooth on the other...just like the real thing. A hand that knew so much hard work...a hand that was so talented and smart. That piece of wood comforts me more than I can tell you.
Maybe the flowers on your porch or in your window sill will do the same thing, Linda.
But, I know...as with everything else we do looking for comfort - whether it be the flowers or the wooden hand - is done with a measure of sadness. I can't help it, though...these things are all I have of Rick that I can touch. Something that he touched. Something that he made. It keeps him close to me in the way I know how to do it.
You were talking about people at work...and, OH, I am so there with you! But I have been training myself just to smile, say 'Fine', and push it right out of my head. You know, Linda, everyone we know that has no idea what this is like....will one day know what this is like. And how sad the thought of that is.
I could have never imagined the depth of pain of loosing half of my heart...but I know now. And I wouldn't wish it on anyone! I try to think of the 'ignorant' around us in that way. I look at them and think, "Sure...you want to hear that I am fine. So I'll go ahead and say it. But even if I said something else like, 'I am broken hearted,'' 'I feel so alone,' 'I'm so scared,' I could never explain the depth of it to you. You would never understand...and I don't WANT you to understand this. So, I will keep you safe from this feeling that I can't describe...I will pretend it doesn't exist when I am around you. I will keep you safe from this nightmare if I can...and pray that God spares you from ever living it.'
It is like trying to explain what it is to be a parent to someone who never had children...it isn't possible to describe the depth of love you feel. Only feeling it does the trick. And I would never want someone who doesn't know the language of 'widow', the life of 'widow', to be a widow just so that they would know the depth of this pain.
Honestly, some days I really stink at it. Some days I just mumble under my breath and run. Just enough to get the question 'How are you?' out of my way and get past it. Some days...I just ba
I am checking in again with you, my friend. Thought about you all night. I hope today was good to you. I was reading your comment to me again, and I was thinking how time seems to be suspended, doesn't it? Seven years, nineteen months...what's the difference? I suppose the difference is as unique as each of us are. As unique as the relationships we loved and lost. Let's face it...some couples are more tightly bonded than others. The tighter the bond, the longer the healing...but never an end to the mourning, or so I've heard.
I've thought about that a lot lately...how is it possible to 'heal', but keep 'mourning'? Isn't being in mourning equal to being wounded? That Is how I feel...wounded. But I have to be honest...I am not incapacitated like I was at first. I felt like I was knocked in the head with a brick...I just couldn't think. In fact, I could hardly find words to speak, so deep was my wound. Now, I can think...I can speak...but I do it differently...I feel that I do it with a distinct disadvantage. I'm slower, more timid...its aggravating. But I am better...better than I was nineteen months ago. Better than one year ago.
Maybe that's it. Maybe you just get better in the new world you're dumped into. Like living on a new planet, I guess. (A new planet filled with aliens!)
I have to tell you, too, that the springtime really helps me. I feel better in the spring and summer. The fall just brings me down. That is the time I lost Rick. In September. And the winter is just full of gloom and holidays I don't feel like celebrating anymore. But I've gotten through two of them now...two falls...two winters...and I'm still here. I can't wait until I figure out why.
Hello, Heart. You know, I'm feeling the same way. I just logged in and have been reading comments that sound just like us...feeling lonely, lost. But the first word that comes to my mind is 'hollow'. I just feel so incredibly hollow. It hurts my heart to read how you miss him. It hurts for you...and for me. I am only 19 months into this, but it is as if you are speaking the words of my heart 5 years in the future. Because, I know...I know how I will feel then...in many ways, just like I do now. In a daze...hollow. I pray for all of us here in WV, you know. And I will continue to do so...to pray for peace, for clarity, for joy. Oh, how I miss them. I don't mean to bring you down, heart. But it sure is comforting to have someone to talk to. Have a good night, my friend. I will be thinking of you. Cindy
Welcome to Widville. I'm so very sorry for your loss, but pleased that you found us. You'll find caring support and friendship here.
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