Lonesome Dove

Remember me?  Ms. Procrastinator?  Well, today I FINALLY got around to doing something for myself after almost a full year.

Last year for my 50th birthday, Wade coordinated a surprise birthday dinner with a few of our neighbors, my sister, our youngest daughter and another daughter who lives 150 miles away.  All he would tell me was that we had dinner reservations at 6pm.  That was suspicious in and of itself.....Wade and reservations???  Very uncharacteristic, yet pleasantly curious.  We went to a Mexican restaurant nearby that has wonderful margueritas (but doesn't take reservations....go figure).  When we went to the outside seating, there was everyone except for the out of town daughter.  It was a very nice surprise.  At one point, I excused myself to visit the ladies room and when I returned to my seat, I looked up and my other daughter was seated across from me.  It was a great surprise!  We all had a nice dinner and conversation and then my daughters gave me a gift of a spa package.

So for almost a year I have held this gift.  My work schedule didn't work well with trying to schedule the appointment (4 hours worth), and then Wade died and I couldn't be bothered.  I mean why put forth the effort?  I've had that same perspective a lot of times, like feeling guilty when I put on makeup to go somewhere.  It just felt wrong.

But lately I've been seeing this gift certificate sitting here on my desk and knowing that it would expire soon, I felt an obligation to my daughters to use it. Then I got a serious crick in my neck and decided the time was right.  So today I went.

The massage was first, and I have to admit I really needed it.  I don't think I knew how much I needed it until about half way through when I started crying.  I couldn't help it.  Part of it was the stress relief I believe.  But another part was remembering how I came to be blessed with this gift, and it was partly because of Wade and his surprise birthday dinner.  So I had the therapist stop, get me a few tissues, and then I felt obligated to explain why I was crying.  I mean who cries during a massage for heavens sake?  What a wuss.

I have become acutely aware of every instance when I tell people that my husband died.  Does that ever go away?  Will there come a time when I can get through any interaction or situation and not feel I have to share that piece of me?

I got through the facial just fine.  No tears.  No need to reveal anything about Wade.  Got through the pedicure just fine.  The manicure was a different story.  I didn't cry or anything.  Well, I had a bout of low blood sugar that caused a slight ruckus, but was easily cured with a Coke.  Not sure what I did with my glucose tabs, so I'll have to search for them and put them back into my purse.  Once that mini crisis was over, the manicurist kept pressing me about my job and I told her I was not working, but she wouldn't leave it alone.  I was becoming a bit annoyed with her continued questioning, so I told her.  Yep, I played the widow card once again.  That shut her up.

By the end of the day I had been rubbed, buffed, scrubbed, polished, infused with a whole lot of different products and walked out feeling tired but relaxed and refreshed.  And my daughters were pleased.  I'm sure Wade would be too.