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Happy? Birthday To Me

What is so "happy" about birthdays anyway? All they are is one step further from the start and one step closer to the end. And an annual reminder of that fact. Why would anyone want to celebrate? Yeah! You are closer to death! Whoopee! Let's party!

We are born, we die. Another fact. Life is tough. Life sucks.

A Punch In The Gut

I feel sick. Really, really sick. I haven't felt this bad for a few months and it all came back with such a force that I hadn't realized how far I have come. Now I am right back there and feel like I am starting all over again.

Today, my brother in law called. He and I talk several times a day as I have signed on as his mentor in his new business adventure. It is not unusual for us to talk a half dozen times a day, but today there was a call that just sucker punched me so hard that I have now fallen back into the pit.

The phone rang and I answered as I always do when I see his name on the caller ID. Only this time he didn't answer back. I called his name again, and still nothing. I can hear the flashers on his truck in the background, but nothing movement, no rustling papers....nothing but the flashers. I listen. I contemplate that it is just a pocket dial and I should hang up. But I don't. What if something has happened to him and I were to hang up when he may have used his one and only means of reaching out for help? Instead I start screaming his name over and over again.

I was transformed back to the day Wade died. And all I could think was this can not be happening again. And I began to panic. And I began to cry.

And then he answered the phone. He had hit redial, but had forgotten he had done so but said he heard a faint voice which reminded him of the call.

I don't think he realizes even now how absolutely terrified I was and how profoundly this has affected me. I have been reduced to a blubbering idiot once again. I am feeling all of the pain and fear all over again and can't stop crying.

This sucks.

Grief is a species of idleness. ~~Samuel Johnson

I'm trying to be productive, I really am. I think about it a lot; however I lack the motivation to get going. I really am trying to change. Really, I am. I guess I need to put on my boots and kick myself in the ass.

Today, I made a little progress. Realizing that if the wood flooring was not picked up and brought into the house soon, it would never be acclimated, or for that matter, installed. Mentally a list was made of some of the other things needing to be done so that the trip out of the house was a good use of time. So the journey began.

Post office....check
Home Depot.....check
Wood, well, how about a tick mark instead?

It seems that a little advance thought and planning was in order, but was obviously overlooked. Apparently having a means to transport the product is somewhat crucial. Well, I have the vehicle, but didn't think about removing the bench seat so that I would have a full eight foot of room to work with. With a little more forethought, the trip would have been successful, but as it stands, I will be making the trip again tomorrow and probably twice. Seems I also didn't take into account the weight and I think 1500 pounds might be too much for one trip. How much weight can a 1/2 ton carry anyway? Wade would know the answer.

I should probably check the gas gauge. Running out of gas would make for a very bad day, not to mention a huge embarrassment. And when was the last time the oil was changed? Oy! Why do I now find this all so troubling? I am stronger than that. Wade always said that he loved that I was a strong, independent woman. He said he knew I would be OK when he wasn't around and that I wasn't clingy and needy. There wasn't anything I couldn't do, or at least attempt. And for many, many years I was that woman. The difference I suppose was that when he left, I always knew he was coming back. Or I could call him and he would know the answer.

Now it seems as if nothing really matters. Most things take on the appearance of menial, make-busy work that are minute and meaningless in the big scheme of things. The joy is gone. The enjoyment of having a partner to share in the accomplishments is what makes it all worthwhile, and I miss that connection.

Another widow includes at the end of her posts a list of things she is thankful for each day. I'm sure I have much to be thankful for, but I'm still quite apathetic and would give it all up in an instant if I could only have Wade back. And since I am struggling with overcoming my ever growing list of things to do, perhaps a list of things I actually accomplished would be more apropos.

Today I Accomplished:

  • Mailed the Special Warranty Deed to the lawyer
  • Recycled 2 CFL bulbs
  • Bought the glue for the upcoming wood floor job
  • Attempted to pick up flooring
  • I don't do cold well.  And living in the southern part of Texas is usually bearable during winters, with shorts and tee shirts worn throughout November and some of December and a sweater or light coat for what remains of our short winter season.  But this year it has been cold.  Really cold.  And wet.  And quite unpleasant.  I don't like it.  I did my tour of colder climes when we lived in St. Louis for five years.  I didn't know it could get that cold!  Brrrrrr

    This weather makes me want to hunker down even more than I have been over the last few months since Wade died.  Is that possible?  To hunker down even more?  I don't think a committed recluse could be hunkering down more than I am lately.  Today, I was thinking back over the past week....or two?....trying to recollect where I have been and what I have done.  I think I went to the bank last week or was that the week before?  Who knows.  Today I met my brother in law for a brief moment to get some paperwork to him as he was passing through town.  Yep, that about covers it.

    If the weather was nicer, I would be outside working in the yard.  Heaven knows it needs tending.  With the cold weather, the plants suffered a great deal and most had to be cut back to the ground because of the freeze.  I am thankful my sister took care of that chore for me.  And because of her, my compost pile overflows.  Lots and lots of leaves and grass from the yard along with the shredded paper and along with some fertilizer it should make some nice compost, if I would just get out there and water it and cover it so it can do it's thing.

    One thing I always enjoyed was mowing the yard.  Now mind you, it is a riding mower because the lot is about a 1/2 acre.  Another one of those "gifts" we gave each other...of course it was totally justified, and fits into the "power tool" category that Wade and I both had for necessary tools.  Although a self-propelled walk behind would be nice for a little exercise, I suppose.  Regardless, I would grab a bottle of water, put on some sun block and my iPod and really enjoy mowing the yard.  Wade hated the way I mowed the yard.  I would catch him watching me sometimes, just shaking his head.  He felt that I wasn't efficient in how I tackled the job, but I always tried to convince him that my way was the best.  I suppose if the mower had broken down before I finished, it would have been a sight since I do large "S" patterns to minimize any duplication of mowing.  Yeah, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.  He was more orderly and precise than I and did each row in sequence.

    During the aftermath of Hurricane Ike, he was putting gas or oil in the chain saw and put it in the wrong place.    His eyesight had gotten so bad, I'm sure that was the reason, because he was the smartest man I ever knew.  And he knew machines and power tools and electric stuff and cars and trucks.....and everything.  He took the chain saw apart, cleaned it and ordered the repair kit, but never got around to putting it back together.   Now I need the chainsaw to take down an overgrown, freeze fried Monstera and he is not here to do it.

    I'll put repairing the chainsaw on my list.

    In the meantime,  perhaps I should focus on "the list."  It is growing and it looks daunting, and I have only completed one (small) thing so far.  One step at a time, right?

    I'm looking forward to Spring.  It will be a time of  renewal for me I am sure.  The feel of the sun on my face rejuvenates me and  I need that.  Yes, that is my story and I'm sticking to it.

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