Lonesome Dove

The first holiday is over and there are only two more before this year becomes a bad memory. I did cook the traditional dinner for Thanksgiving, attended by my mother-in-law, my sister-in-law, my sister and two of my daughters. A girl's event, if you will. I only cried three times during the whole event. The first time was while I was peeling eggs; Wade would always sneak up behind me while I had my hands in the sink and sneak a grope, or snuggle my ear or maybe a little tickle. It was a tradition of sorts. It made me sad to think he will never do that again. Perhaps one day I will smile at the memory, but right now, it makes me cry. Even now as I type this. The next time I cried was after I was trying to "teach" my youngest daughter (age 20) about the proper handling of poultry. She and I seem to miscommunicate during these exchanges and they end up in a fight. That made me cry. Then later that night while everyone was watching a movie, I stepped outside by myself and had a good cry just because I missed him so very, very much.

All in all, it was a good time by all. No one got sick, so I guess I cooked the turkey correctly. But as for carving the bird, I wish I had paid more attention over the years. I swear I heard him laughing.

Now onto Christmas. I'm thinking a cruise is in order. And if I can pull it off, it just might cover New Years Eve as well.

Well, another holiday is fast approaching and I am left wondering what this new tradition will be like without my husband. We had taken the lead of hosting Thanksgiving over the past six years and hubby was in charge of the bird. His father had been the bird man before his passing an my mother-in-law lost all interest in the holiday after he died. Besides, it was time for her to be picked up and brought over for dinner and treated like the respected matriarch of the family, which she most definitely has earned.

Now we are left to figure out what this new tradition will be. The plan was to do something non-traditional. A steak cookout with those family members who haven't made other plans or who have not ex-communicated themselves from the family for whatever reason. Our youngest daughter has poo-pooed that idea. She has been planning and working towards having a lap band procedure for the past year and stated emphatically that we WILL have turkey and all the fixins because this is her last year to enjoy a no-holes-barred feast before her surgery in January. She has always loved Thanksgiving, so yes, we will be doing the traditional dinner, albeit I won't be cooking for the usual 20+ as in the past.

I just wish hubby was here to prep the bird. I always hated that part.

We'll have steak on Friday.

Let's start with today. Today is Friday. Friday the 13th to be exact. Is that significant in some way? Maybe, maybe not. But it is the end of the week, the end of yet another week. The exact ending of 12 full weeks since my world forever changed. And I am weak, weak in spirit, weak in self awareness, weak in caring for myself or others, even my cats it seems. My days aren't much more than getting out of bed, playing on the computer, smoking way too much and returning to bed at a dreadfully late hour. Every day lately has been the same. It is like "Groundhog Day" every day.

And it has to stop.

On a Saturday twelve weeks ago, my husband died very suddenly at the age of 52. Almost exactly nine days to the minute after his birthday. He died while I was on the phone with him. It took me 3 minutes to get to him, but it was too late. His last words to me were "Where are you?"

Two weeks ago would have been our 21st wedding anniversary. And now the holidays are approaching which is bringing even more sadness and confusion.

I want to run away, but not sure to where.