I am still amazed how quiet my phones have been. Don’t get me wrong, there were days I went without it ringing once and I loved those days. My phones have rung probably at least 3 times a day since all this happened. One of those calls is my mom, she has kept in touch everyday keeping watch over me from afar and I find comfort in our new routine. The other calls from friends, family, and solicitors whom I love to inform that Steve has died, so please don’t call again. This brings me a small sadistic pleasure to hear them stammer out their apologies as they promise to remove the name. Sorry I am usually not that mean but they tormented us and I find them especially intrusive right now. I don’t want to talk about a product or give to an organization right now. I usually dodged their calls, but now I pick up the phone just to tell them the bad news to torment them right back. Ok I may be dealing with anger issues associated with mourning, something about life going on, blah, blah.
There are some things I am extremely happy about life going on. My son getting married, our ThanksChristmas, events going on in my friends lives all great and keep me moving forward. Life goes on, but every once in a while I get angry or sad like when those solicitors take up the air time on the phone because they are filling in Steve’s time. They are replacing him and I don’t like it one bit. I confess also to being jealous and bite my tongue from saying “At least you have a husband” when someone tries to voice a complaint against their husbands right now. I know it is cruel, I would never say it to anyone, but I guess I am hypersensitive about that. We never realize how good we have it until something is taken from us. To be honest, I am complaining about Steve still, how his tool hording may bring me some extra money at the yard sale.
I miss my phone calls from him the most. The phone was our lifeline to each other. We talked so much on the phone, some days we had to go to the cell phones after depleting the two batteries in the portable house phones. I can’t say how many times I have picked up the phone to call Steve to tell him some news I knew he would want to hear. I have picked up the phone just to call to say good morning or good night only to hang it up, feeling empty. I miss having my morning and evening greeting partner. I know it sounds sad and pathetic, but it is in the little intimacies, when he is missed the most. We didn’t see each other much so when we were together we made the most of even the smallest moments together. He would stay awake and watch me sleep. I would wake up early and do the same, mostly listening to his breathing.
I miss him in the small times I guess since we didn’t get too many big event times together. I attended many family gatherings without him because he was usually working and unable to attend. I have to say I am most thankful we had our trip to Ireland last year. That was a huge event for us and we had lots of small moments together there. I grew to respect his truck driving skills here more than ever and told him many times over. This was my man, and he was able to drive on the right side of the wrong side of their roads. He even extracted us from a very tight parking spot, on a hill, in our manual transmission car very late in the evening. We were parked facing downward on a steep hill. We were boxed in by two cars each parking less than a foot of clearance from us. Who parks that close to a person on a hill? I was ready to throw in the towel and spend the night and just let them win this one. I was so frightened when Steve took up the challenge and proceeded to remove us from that tight spot. I refused to be in the car and covered my eyes for most of it, but I smelled rubber and clutch burning and heard some squealing. I couldn’t tell whether it was tires squealing or me. It didn’t take long but he got out of that tight spot unscathed and like a knight in his shiny armored car, whipped over to where I was observing nervously, opened the door for me to get in and we drove off into the foggy Irish night. He had the biggest grin plastered on his face and was quite pleased with his accomplishment and the look of awe on my face. He liked impressing me with his mad skills. Steve was my hero that night over something so small.
He was also my hero for pressing through so much pain to walk the scenic places with me there. Steve had sprained his ankle pretty badly about three weeks before our trip. It swelled up and stayed swollen for months, and I worried about him constantly, but he kept his pain hidden. While visiting the Cliffs of Moher the poor man had to sit down a lot that day because of the many stairs to climb and uneven trails to traverse. It was a hard day for him because he couldn’t take care of me like he wanted to. I scared him by going too close to the edge, even taunted him, I just wanted to see him concerned about me. It made me feel good to see him panic for my life. I was so mean to him up there but I felt so daring that day and just so excited about being with him in another country that I got stupid. I smile as I remember the panic in his voice about being too close to the edge; he was so cute being all scared about me. There I go again you see I really can be bad when I want to be.
Steve made me angry when he would say he was paving my road to heaven and would tell people I was a saint. Ha, as you can see by my tormenting ways with solicitors and on the cliff, it was the other way around, I paved Steve's way. I am the reason he is in heaven right now. God took pity on him. We had fun together when we could. I miss his companionship and our fun times and imagine I will miss them for quite some time. Of course I have fun with family and friends don’t get me wrong, but it is a different kind of fun than with the love of your life. I will admit that I am angry I won't have that anymore, it is sad and unfair. I am selfish and pitching a fit for him not being here and all I have lost, but I know it will pass as did all the temper tantrums my kids and I ever threw. I am waiting for calm after the storm, it always comes.
No comments:
Post a Comment