Stewing and Screwing

So my daughter calls me this afternoon and asks me the same old question “What cha doin mom?” And I reply with the only honest answer I know to give her at the moment as I put down my battery operated screwdriver and say “screwing”. She inhales sharply before letting out a grossed out “Mom” moan and I proceed to tell her to take her mind out of the gutter, what else do you call it. I have been screwing the last two days and will continue to screw some tomorrow as I finish putting my cabinets back together, vents back into place and whatever else needs screwing in this house!!! I am so tired of screwing and painting and am now ready to move onto the next big adventure. Don’t know what that will be yet, probably boring but hopefully not as taxing on my hands. Excessive screwing with such a heavy screwdriver causes severe cramps in your hands, did you know that?

I have also been stewing today as in stewing about having to do all this stuff and decided since I haven’t cooked myself a good meal in months, I had a craving for beef stew. Do you think it was subliminal, me stewing and craving stew? Who cares it was very good, and it felt good to cook something. I have mostly been eating frozen from my freezer, canned or cereal. I forget about meals while I am busy, so usually I look for quick and easy. Today I decided it would be a rest day, but I ended up screwing and stewing instead.  Maybe I will rest tomorrow; it is the Lord ’s Day so I will give it to Him.

The first half of this day was spent in bed talking on the phone this morning.  I guess it was call Renee free day because the people called me and it was good to catch up. I think my son called because he read yesterday’s blog or status about crying UNCLE. He was checking on me I guess. I enjoyed my visits this morning and also a visit online with an old friend I hadn’t seen or heard from in nearly 40 years I think. It was fun catching up and connecting with a blast from the past. Guilt being my greatest motivator right now, I got up after lounging in my bed all morning and started putting the hinges back on my cabinets then the draw pulls. I was really enjoying hanging some of them but had to stop screwing when I realized I needed another person to help hold the heavy cabinets in place for me. That is when the stewing really began because of boredom and the need for sustenance so now I don’t have to cook again for a week.

So boy howdy I have had a fun day, so relaxing my hands are feeling better not as sore, and ready to begin again on Monday. Tomorrow I will find better ways to spend my time than cooking and thinking about how much this stinks. Life is so exciting right now I can’t wait to have fun again. I don’t like strictly business and I don't like being angry about all this I have to do. I don't like stewing about how my life could have, should have been and I seem to be reminded of it with each screw I screw and each wall I paint. I want to either fast forward or rewind my life, can't say which right now, but I don't like the play button. What play?

UNCLE (for now)

I have been steadily working on my house so much I am exhausted. Today I threw a tantrum after I reached the end of my rope. I have been painting with brush and spray paint repairing things and using the power screwdriver a bit. Yesterday I was proud of my accomplishments, but today was another story. As I tried to finish work on the air vents in the ceiling I was putting up the last two and I had a mini breakdown. I couldn’t for the life of me get the screws to go in or stay in. My hands were sore and burning from a touch of arthritis I assume from the constant gripping I have been doing. They were also burning from the cuts and scrapes I got from handling these metal vents and the heavy screwdriver. The vents win today I declared as I sat down and just cried out my frustration at not having my man around to do this. Again I felt sorry for myself and cried about how unfair all this seems.

I had been having a productive week up until this point of weariness. I actually hurt all over physically and mentally and would love to just sit down and pout. Of course I can’t do that so tomorrow I will get the liquid nails out and voila, problem solved. I will wait until I can get my arms feel less wobbly again and I will kick the butt of those stupid air vents, which were dirty but now look like new. I cannot let a little problem like this derail my progress. I need to get this place ready to sell and cannot afford to hire anyone to do it for me. My girls will have the same problems as I would, not enough strength to screw a nail through metal. I admit I am female and do not have the strength a man does, I am so not a women’s libber, I know my limitations.

So tomorrow is another day, duct tape and glue may be the answer to the rest of my problems, but it doesn’t matter it will get done. I have had family volunteer to help, my pride keeps me from asking them because it is such a long drive for them. As I work, so I grieve I get mad, I get sad, I laugh at myself. This house and I have to say our goodbye’s and we are wrestling with each other. Neither of us wants to see me leave, but it has to be. Soon she will give in and be a good girl again and allow me to pretty her up for her brand new family. Well I have to go soak my hands in some Epson salt so I can be fresh for tomorrow’s battle and I will win.

Sweet Dreams

 I awoke this morning relieved it was only a dream only to realize I was thinking incorrectly. The dream was only a dream and my life was the nightmare I dreamed about. I dreamed about Steve for the first time since he died I know how sad that sounds. I have stressed about not dreaming about him thinking I must not have loved him enough to see him in my dreams. It was like I had a block and wasn’t doing too much dreaming at all about anything. The night before I had a dream and all I remember was seeing a truck like his driving past my house to a neighbor’s house to park for the night and being sad because it wasn’t Steve. Last night’s dream was he came home to me and I was so excited but mildly panicked because I had been removing him from my life. In my mind as we were hugging I was thinking is this real if it is I have to put his Face book page back up and tell everyone he isn’t really dead.

The dream was a great homecoming but I was angry at him for being out of communication for so long and putting me through so much grief.  It was easy in my dream to forgive him and just enjoy him being in our house at the dinner table with me. When I woke up this morning, I felt for him in the bed so grateful to have him there with me, until I felt the empty cold place where he should have been. Then I realized which was the dream and which the nightmare. It was so nice seeing him again and feeling him hold me. It was a very familiar feeling as if he were home for one of his overnight home visits and the time was just as short. Now back to the reality of life, there will be no more bittersweet reunions except in my dreams.

I’m not crying about it though, I am just in a haze wishing it were true and maybe it was for a time. At least I got to see Steve’s face again and maybe my dreams will pick up again. I haven’t had too many dreams since this happened and I hope my brain has kicked into gear again and I can escape into my dreams. It was a good dream and I awoke feeling warm and secure, the way I want to feel so yes I want more dreams. It was nice to be normal for a night even though his visit was just an over nighter. We had many of those over nighters. Steve would come home, we threw his laundry in the washer, I cooked him or us dinner, watched a bit of television, and then off to bed early but I would stay up until the clothes were dry then folded and put back into Steve's bag then set at the front door. We slept for a few hours then he got up in the wee hours anywhere between three and five to drive away again. So yes last night was very much and overnight visit which didn't last long enough.

I guess this is why I am not crying, because it is a familiar feeling and it feels like he will be back for a visit and I can only hope to see him in my dreams again for a sweet visit like last night. Last night I was only mildly panicked and mildly angry at him but mostly overjoyed that he was alright and still alive. This is what I truly believe anyway that he is alive in heaven and he couldn’t call me so who could be mad at that. I am feeling such peace right now in my spirit and I know though he isn’t here, I will see him again, soon.

Mardi Gras Time

It has been a better week than last judging by the tears versus laughs. It might be the prayer, might be spending time with friends, or maybe the weather and it could be all of it together. Whatever the reason, I seem to be in a better, brighter spot. I am adjusting again making decisions I normally wouldn’t make by myself. I was unsure about the car squealing and a dear friend came to my rescue and tightened a belt and put the antifreeze in my car that I bought last week. I thought I had bought it in vain since I couldn’t fit anymore in the radiator but was informed tonight about the reservoir. Who would have known such a thing, Steve did that for me every year. Oh well, the belt is tight, I have brake fluid, oil treatment, and antifreeze so I can drive myself wherever the need arises.

My girlfriends came to my aid this weekend also painting walls and trim work, basically putting lipstick on my house so people can see how nice she can look. I hope it pays off but spending time with them was fun and another much needed a distraction. I am glad it is over, those women can crack a whip, I am much easier on myself than they are, I take a lot more breaks. It looks nice, but it is looking less like my house everyday and this bothers me because I have had to depersonalize it.  I am grateful to at least be able to keep my bedroom the same color. It seems as though I am living in someone else’s house until I leave so much more grieving to do over my house now I guess.

My hand has been gripped so tightly around my family, my house and my life and I have cherished it all so much that my hand is nearly frozen in a clutched position. Pulling my fingers back slowly to reveal an open hand is a slow and painful process and one I feel as though God is taking me through while working on my house. I feel it significantly right now in my hand as the soreness from gripping paint brush, putty knife or roller over the last few days makes me want to open my hand to stretch out the pain. It is much better for me to have open palms to receive all that God wants to give me, but I am afraid to release what I have in my hands. Maybe deep down I feel I will lose that too but the constant gripping is causing pain in my hands and is becoming bad for me.

 I guess it is time to go Mardi Gras. What I mean by this is the beads and trinkets are thrown from above from the floats and everyone expectantly stands with arms and hands outstretched in a ready to catch everything position. No one ever throws up clenched fists since they could never catch anything like that. I like to catch and release either by putting trinkets into a bag I brought with me and or by wearing the jewelry I catch and getting my hands back up in the air again as soon as possible. I smile and look eager and attentive and am usually ready to catch what is thrown my way but really it is impossible to catch it all.  Some days more is thrown your way than others and the bounty differs with each new parade. Look up, blessings will rain down and they are freely given with much joy and gladness.

There are some who follow the parade always looking down, getting accosted by elbows, being stepped on or tripped over but still retrieving what hits the ground. I find that technique ridiculously hard and depressing. These people don’t watch the parade and see the beautiful costumes and floats, and never see the joy of the people on those floats. Their focus is in the filth of the street and they glean their bounty from the low places and trash. Very rarely do they get the pure clean stuff right off of the floats unless they steal it from the up lookers. They miss so much of the beauty of the parade by their constant searching through the muck and they work twice as hard for their treasures.

So that is my Mardi Gras analogy and I think it is time to look up and release what I have in my hands so I can catch more stuff. I know there is much more to be given and what I have already is real and tangible and is already mine. It is time to put it on or in the bag and lift my hands to receive. Will it be a spear, jewelry, a stuffed animal, or a priceless doubloon?  Who knows, but it will be new and interesting and the thrill of the catch is always as exciting as the view is beautiful and joyous.

Alone Time

Well after crying for the past week then taking it easy this morning I feel much better. Could it be because I took the time to get it out or is it because I rewarded myself by stripping the wallpaper from my kitchen walls? Whatever it is I am feeling a bit less like a blubbering fool crying over everything. If this is what it is going to be like every three months I need to go on and get the rest of it out now. It was awful, and lonely, and pretty darn depressing, but for the time being it is done. I don’t like feeling vulnerable and weepy.

I call this my alone time. It is through no fault of my friends or family that I am so alone right now. Life’s circumstances just make it an alone time for me. It is maybe not so much alone time but more of a set apart time to get my act together in this place where I can have my withdrawals from my old life without infecting, inflicting or shocking anyone else. I am in a cell of my monastery with God as the administrator and doctor of my wellness center. I know why the prophets ended up in the desert so they could scream and fuss without anyone hearing them. It really is an ugly process. I am not happy with where I am, I feel like it is a setback, but am told by a friend or two, I am right on time and though that may be true, it still feels like I am not getting better.

 I have been able to refocus on my prayer time and my ears are opening up some although I ask myself when did they close? Sometimes a pig just wants to wallow in the mud instead of eat at the trough and while I was wallowing some mud got into my ears and clogged my hearing. My eyes also became covered with mud so I couldn’t see the hope in front of me and the promise’s of a new life and fresh start. I was stuck in the mud again but once I stopped wallowing and got still again I could hear and see the words spoken over me. I am recovering again.

I am once again at the banquet table sipping slowly and savoring each bite again.  I know God is taking me to new places where mud is unacceptable.  He is cleaning me up and bringing me forth into my new destiny. It is only new to me since God has known about it since long before I was born, so I defer to my creator and accept His guidance here in this place apart from the world. Why do I struggle to be released from His grip so often when I know I can’t ever do what is best for me apart from Him? What is it about human nature that we fight so much against what is good and wholesome for us? I announce it to the world today, I am nothing without God and really incapable of making healthy decisions without Him right now. I submit, I wait, and I listen.

Margarita Ministry Time

Ok how do I mark the time darling. Do I say this past Tuesday marked three months you are gone since it was 12 weeks or is it next Wednesday on the anniversary day? Why is there an extra week it seems and where did those extra days come in? I will wait until next week to say 3 months. Has it been three months? It hardly still seems real.

I have done a lot in three months but not enough. I am hoping to get more accomplished by the end of this month but as I move forward from that day, I become farther from you. I don’t feel you around me like I hear of some people who do. I hear your voice because I know you and know what you will say, I also hear the echoes in my heart of your voice as I replay the message on the answering machine again. I don’t know why it has been so rough this last week. It has been by far the hardest emotionally since the funeral week I think.

I don’t like feeling out of control and this sense of wondering that keeps me awake. I am still wondering what went through your mind as the angels came to your side. Did you think of us, or were your eyes only focused on your Heavenly Father? I wonder too much about whether you were in pain and if I missed the warning signals and didn’t push you enough to go to the doctor’s. I know I couldn’t have prevented this, but could I have prolonged us being together for a little while longer? I wonder if you knew this was coming or suspected it since you told me I needed to buy a little black dress the month before all this came to pass. You were too insistent and I stubborn and said I had something I could throw together if I had to and I did for your funeral. I wonder if we were ever meant to be together for a lifetime.

I wonder if you will know me and remember me in Heaven. I know what I believe which is you will know me and be waiting for me, but now I have cause to really want to know. I wonder if I loved you enough on this earth and did our marriage give you some of the joy you had been seeking. You worked so hard for your family and trying to keep it all together for us despite the emotional pain you were in. You overcame your past but were unable to fully enjoy life because of it. I am so sorry for all the pain the world caused you before we were married and am greatly relieved you do not suffer from that now. I wonder if I am strong enough to move on without you. I know I'm strong, but together we were so much stronger. I feel like I am alone, very alone and I don’t like this feeling. Even in a room full of people I feel alone right now. I have lost a connection to your heart and I feel like I am dangling from a precipice somewhere in the Arctic waiting for you to grab my hand. It is very cold in my life right now and I just want to feel the strength and warmth of you again.

My head tells me I am doing well, God is with me always and He is taking care of me. There is just a longing for a hug or a sure smile from you from across the room or across the miles. I am still addicted to you too and our life together. How to move forward without feeling I am leaving you behind? This is such a bothersome thought which plagues me night and day. I want to move away and put this behind me, but that would mean you too. I will be leaving our old haunts and as exciting as it seems to start anew, it is frightening; it is a betrayal to all of our dreams and plans for growing old together. Here I am the one who gets to grow old alone. That is hardly fair and yes I am angry for that. I'm stuck here making these huge decisions about my life, not our life. I am so stressed to see my name on the caller id when Mary calls because it has never been there before. I wonder if I will get used to seeing just my name on everything and not a Mr. and Mrs. Travis. These little details of my life are so painful. I remember practicing writing Mrs. Steve Travis before and after we were married, and how excited I was to be able to sign my new name. I know all the women’s libbers are probably fired up by now, but I was proud to be your wife and glad to acknowledge it by taking on your name.

This adjustment is very unsettling. I miss so many simple things like cooking you a meal  or washing your clothes and I miss you doing that for me sometimes. Wow I miss being a couple because a single is lonely right now. I wonder if I will ever get used to this and start to enjoy it again like before we were married. I guess it will all come back to me I just have to practice being alone again but this time will be different. I am older, wiser and a lot slower, but I still like to have fun so I don’t know where it will take me, but I hope it can pay my bills. I wonder about all the financial stuff now too, hating this most of all even though I paid the bills, there was money coming in to pay them. Now I am the total responsible party, just another adjustment for me and I hope I don’t grind the gears while I am shifting again.

I will be okay, I don’t worry about that, I am just still seeing things in my mind and wondering. I want to turn my mind off right now, but for some reason it is in overdrive again and maybe I am phasing into another level of this grief game. This level involves sporadic crying fits similar to the ones I experienced 3 months ago now. They are usually sparked by a memory, a stupid piece of mail addressed to just me, or a thank you for the gift of your loved ones tissue donation.  Occasionally a telemarketer will call asking for Steve and the only reason I answer is because it doesn’t look like a call from a telemarketer on the caller ID so I get duped. Then there is the call with the Social Security people finally closing that chapter and getting told you can’t receive benefits for at least another 10 years from your poor husband who worked so hard. They really hope I die or get married so they won’t have to pay me at all. I may live and stay unmarried just to spite them.

 Anyway life is moving on, so am I although it doesn’t seem like it most days. I am in slow motion and have to literally tell myself where I am heading when running an errand into town. Maybe God wants me to slow down even though I feel it isn’t good for me, but I may need to. I guess I need to have some Margarita Ministry again by this of course I mean take it slow and sip slowly from the glass. Enjoy the salted rim, but drink the frozen concoction slowly because it will make for one heck of a brain freeze headache and a hangover headache afterwards if I don’t drink slowly. Bartender I am ready for my Frozen Margarita now.

FSBO Loving Home

Today I actually gave myself a break and didn’t quit a job before taking it. I am learning about e-filing income taxes and the training is ridiculous.  I really was beginning to doubt my intelligence and my sanity yesterday as I sat in my living room crying about how awful it was. It was not easy when the program is full of glitches and errors making me think it was me. I was comforted by the man who is running the show today who told me I was in the same boat with them because they all had the same problems too. I am not as fearful and unsure today, but I wouldn’t come to me to file anything harder than easy peasy taxes. I left for lunch to go home to try to finish at home, bad idea so I will go back tomorrow.

It is strange, when I left the office I made a beeline, like a drug addiction to get back home. I had other errands to run yesterday and today which I never got to because I couldn’t get home to the comfort of my lair fast enough. I am addicted to my home and hate to be away from it for any length of time. Even though I don’t know where anything is in it anymore, I still feel a sense of security and healing here. It is my sanctuary right now in the tumult of my present state of life. I enter the front door and such warmth comes over me and I don’t want to leave. Is it the residual sounds of my children’s laughter down the hall or the love that oozes from the sheetrock? Whatever it is, my house loves me and it and Millie surround me and comfort me right now. Sad as it sounds, it is all I have until I leave Selma.

It is ironic the work I need done. Steve helped build so many homes with Habitat here in Selma but the repairs to our home are still needed. I have doorframes to mend from our boys rough housing long ago. My nephew was led to believe the door was locked, so he busted the door in like they do on television. We laugh about it now, but still it must be repaired as does another door. So many repairs with good and bad memories attached to each one. I will have to google to see if I can even attempt such a repair. My skills are meager limited to patching, painting and nailing, but I am willing to give it a shot. I do have a light switch repair friend who I will ask to replace a worn out switch. Many good memories in this house, with many repairs to be done but mostly surface stuff, she is a solid, strong house built with lots of love. She will live longer than I probably, and I hope whoever buys her feels the love poured into this place.

She is my port in this storm right now and I would love to stay and be here always. Unfortunately if I don’t leave, I can’t finish what I am to do with my life. She was our shelter, and a great place to raise our children. We have been so protected here in this neighborhood. A tornado came through several years back and this side of our neighborhood happened to be the side that was spared the property damage the other side got. We even put up our neighbors for a couple weeks after that storm in this house. She is a very welcoming house and I believe will be a fine house for the next people to receive the blessing of her. I will help by putting her makeup on, but it will be up to the next owners to decide what she will wear on her floors, walls and window treatments.

I need to withdraw from my need for this place so God is detaching me as nicely as He can by my recent excursions away from here. Jesus didn’t have a place to rest his head, but I do and I am richly blessed. Soon I will be a nomad living off the goodness of my parents or friends or who knows where I am sent. I do not know even the day I will leave, I just know I have to leave and I know I will when it is time. When I release, I will get release.

 Steve is still here in this place no not physically, don’t call the shrink yet, but the echoes of his presence are. The conversations, laughter and even the hammering of the nails when we built this house still reverberate through every inch of it. I‘m afraid I will miss it more than I think, because that is how I feel about my childhood home lost to Katrina. When I dream sometimes I am back in that house and I see it as I did as a child. I have imprinted on this home, so I believe when I leave here, I will dream about this place instead of my childhood home, perhaps.  At least that is my hope for now, so until I leave, I am here waiting on God to send the perfect family to love my home and feel her love them back. I can’t wait to meet them. For Sale by Owner: Loving Home...

Two days like yesterday

It was so nice of God to place me on the heart of a friend this morning. She called to invite me to church and I think it was just what I needed. I was starting to isolate and felt myself enjoying me too much yesterday. I realized there couldn’t be two days like yesterday at least not in a row. It is unhealthy to be in a hole too long since it tends to get deeper and messier. I enjoyed seeing the children I hadn’t seen in awhile they have all grown into such beautiful young men and women. Of course there were a few of us older folks who I was equally glad to see, it was a nice morning all in all. The spaghetti dinner afterward was an added bonus and allowed me to visit a bit with them outside of the service.

It was a challenge to go beyond my boundaries and test my tear response time again. It was pretty good for the most part until I saw people whom I hadn’t seen since before all of this. Then there were those sweet people who remind me how great Steve’s hugs, smiles, counsel was and yes I agreed with them all. It is a comfort to hear people speak nice of Steve and share things about him but it also brings it back home to reality. The best thing I can say about today is I wasn’t as lonely as yesterday and it felt good to be back with the Body of Christ again. While in prayer this morning I had felt I needed something because I believed my protective mantle had begun slipping a bit as the voice of the enemy of my soul got louder in my ear. I had become vulnerable to his influence again, and found it harder to be where I wanted to be, smack dab in the middle of God’s will for me. I was starting to lament my situation of straddling two worlds not knowing whether to get a job here or search elsewhere, not knowing where or when I will be free to move on. I know this is old news, but I am chomping at the bit to move on, yet God will not have it yet.

I think it was safe in Louisiana and this is why I am screaming to leave and be done with my place here. Back home I didn’t run the risk of people in town knowing Steve and speaking to me about my loss and sharing memories of him with me. I could get lost there and not have to confront all this, but here, in Steve's hometown, it is in your my wherever I go. I try to avoid places we used to go, even darting in and out of the grocery store where we used to linger for hours talking to everyone. I am dodging people and really trying to get one over on grief, but I’m losing. God will not release me from here until I face it all, then I will heal up and move on. I guess I will jump in and if I drown, it is on God not me but being the good father He is, I won’t drown. I will probably swallow lots of bitter tears, but I will not drown. Well heck I have already done that, so I guess I am already in the healing waters.

So Selma, look forward to seeing more of me, because I will not have two days in a row like yesterday, I will have two days like today. Then I will have two more days like today and then a week like today, where I will be out in the Body, doing the healing and confronting I need to do, so I can move into the next phase of my life. Once this happens, I will be able to focus on others again and this will make me happy. Tomorrow I will press forward in the ice storm we are supposedly having, to train for a small temporary job. I am unsure if this is for me, but I will give it my best shot. Tomorrow will definitely not be like yesterday, but more like today. This is good, I am still moving.

We had Ireland

 Here I sit on a Saturday, amazed at my melancholy again. Where did it come from now? I had been doing so well this week. I stayed in my bed for most of the first half of this day, not sleeping mind you. I just lounged there reading the internet, then reading a book and then I knitted some on my niece’s blanket I had started before all this.  To save myself from embarrassment I won’t tell how long I was there, but I felt stuck. Then to make up for being bad, I decided to move the boxes I swore I would leave for my sons to lift, into the shed just to prove I could still do something constructive. After that it was back to my bed, my safe zone for today.

I watched a movie online and after it was over I cleaned out my kitchen cabinets. Why did I have so many spices I will never use again? I have thrown out so many things in my cleaning adventures that I said I won’t use again. Nevertheless, if I need them I will go buy new spices or soap or cups. I watched the Saints as I cleaned out my cabinets, and then sat to watch and knit through the rest of the game. I joked about cleaning out our liquor cabinet, but I wouldn’t drink alone and there really wasn’t anything good in it anyway. I didn’t want to ruin Julia’s blanket by knitting while under any influence so I took the game like a fan, and listened to it while keeping my computer on to watch people’s comments throughout the game.

I was a bit lonesome today and wanted connection, just not the kind that popped up on my computer. My screensaver displays my photos like a slideshow and there were all my pictures coming at me. I always love my pictures, but today they bothered me but only the ones with Steve in them.  All those beautiful shots in Ireland I am so proud of, the family shots with him last year at the St. Patrick’s parade, Hannah’s birthday, and the Fourth of July all came zooming at me and they hurt me today. Occasionally I would move the mouse so it would stop, but after the allotted idle time, they came back to haunt me. I have seen these pictures many times since Steve’s death,  but today they just pierced my heart. I felt so lonely today and remembered our times together at each of those functions how glad I was to have him there. I have been to so many events without him because of his work, but when we were together it was nice. 

I call this day a pothole. I was on a pretty smooth road but hit a pothole today. Not a pitypothole, but a time to stop and remember pothole. I expect to be out of it by morning and back on the fast track to starting my new life. I had fun remembering Ireland, that was a God given trip if ever there was one. We went for our 30^th anniversary gift a couple years early. It was the best timing for us to go, worst timing for the economy, but we went for it anyway. I am so glad we went and we had so much fun. I remember Steve watching me enjoy myself as we went sightseeing and I still see the love in his eyes. I feel his hand in mine as I remember us walking around the town of Avoca and the Giants Causeway. I enjoyed having him with me as I sat in the church my grandma sat in as a girl and the sweet prayer we prayed together there. We had as much fun as we possibly could have in that two week period. I am so glad I took tons of photos, but sad today because they hurt so badly right now.

Tomorrow, they may not hurt, but to be safe I have changed my screen saver for a little while. That pothole took me by surprise and I hope there aren’t too many more up ahead. Could it be that I may need to slow down and look at the road ahead? Maybe it is a precarious as some of those tiny Irish roads we traveled on two short years ago where you had to pull over so another car could pass. I will be cautious about moving too quickly now as I move on. I have a tendency to stuff it so I can’t see it approach to issues that hurt. I am being forced to grieve this out properly in proper time, and am unable to save it for after I sell my home. I have to deal with it before I can leave, maybe? I accept the challenge and am grateful we had Ireland at least. That was the best quality time we were able to have and actually be together in such a long time. Most of our quality time was on the phone, so to be able to have 2 weeks with him was a blessing I will never forget.

Itching Phase

Well my closet is cleaned out, and as I remove things out of the house, I realize they are not necessary for me to live. I didn’t need all that stuff and I don’t need it now. I am better off living as simply as I can. I once asked when will I stop counting the weeks since Steve passed away, well I am there now. It is harder to keep up with the weeks so now I can say 3 months. It hit me again the other day the reality of all this and I had to bring my mind back to seeing him in the casket again to prove it real. I had thought I was past that stage, but I guess once in a while, reality bites back.

I wouldn’t say I am numb, but life seems to have less flavor than it used to. Since October I seem disconnected with my old life. I don’t do things the same way and I have forgotten where I left off, where my place was in things. My routines have been broken and new habits formed so the old is now gone. I don’t have the same desire for some things I used to do for fun. I suppose play time is over and it is now time to get to work about what it is I am meant to do. Just stepping into this house after the holidays was new to me. Never had I come home to less furniture and such a disorganized mess. I don’t know where a lot of things are anymore, and not sure if I still have them either. So although I am feeling better and thinking clearer, I am still not the same, I am misplaced.

I don’t feel like my friends, prayer group, or city I live in has changed but I have and I don’t feel like I fit in anymore. It is as if I have just awakened and I am disoriented and can’t seem to get back into the rhythm of my life again. Yes it is because I have to change my life in order to adapt and move forward and there isn’t room for all I had in the past. My synapses in my brain are trying to recover the familiar, but it is gone. I am caught between two worlds right now, my past and future. I want both but can have only one of them, my future and moving into it without Steve has thrown me off balance. As my brain restructures and I accept the empty plan ahead of me, I stay in my house and surround myself with as much familiar as I can. Soon enough I will be off with a new destiny but until I sell this house, I am here, between two worlds not able to move forward yet.

I am not frustrated yet, I know God will sell this house when I am ready to allow Him to lead me to the next level, but I am too nosy. I want to control everything in my life, and realize I can’t. Some things I have to leave in His hands and trust Him on. Sure I am doing the small things to get it ready to sell the Lord letting me think I am at least. Busy work is best for me right now and He knows it, but I am starting to want to move forward now. I need to move on with my life so I can do what I am called to do next. So as the final things are moving out of my house so they are within my grieving process. It is a strange parallel I am seeing. I didn’t know what I needed to heal through this, but God did. I didn’t need to go to my parents house right away, I needed alone time to grieve it through otherwise I may have been caught up in self pity. He knows me best and I am glad I allowed Him to take me through this, His way not mine.

I am not feeling the need to blog as much as I once did so I know I am getting better and stronger. I am in the itchy phase of healing. I want to run but I can’t but I feel like I can. My doctor is telling me not yet, even though I know I can. I have to resist the temptation to run, because it may really hurt me and I don’t want to set my recovery back. So for now, I itch and scratch and fidget around looking for something new yet nothing satisfies. It is in this hard place of obedience, submissiveness and eagerness the three medicines of my present state of recovery that I am learning discipline. I only hope the medicine doesn’t kill me.

New Year's Brown

Wow after 2 weeks away from home and the mess of my life, the reentry was miserable. I had finally felt I turned a corner, but when I turned the key to come into my house it really slapped me back into my present reality, selling this house. I left it like this and came back to it like this. I had forgotten in those 2 weeks the boxes I had piled up at the back door to take out to the shed. I had forgotten the stuff left on the front porch to be taken away. I had forgotten the furniture I no longer had which was sold at the yard sale. And most importantly I had forgotten all the work still left to be done just here in the house so I can sell it. I shrug now as I type and sigh, time to get back to work, so I can get to work. I still have to learn all about a job I will be doing soon. Who has time to do all of this? Eat the elephant again, how disgusting, it is quite rancid now.

I have to say on the ride home I was receiving glimpses into exciting new moments I could now have in my life. Some were disconcerting and inappropriate to be thinking right now such as not having to check my husband’s schedule to do things. It is weird to think I am accountable to only me and don’t have to consult Steve anymore about any decisions. I am my own boss and that in itself is exciting and scary because I might make a bad decision which will mess up what God has planned. There is something to be said about strength in numbers. I number one right now and will be culling information from whomever I can to help me in my decision making but ultimately it boils down to me.

I also will need new clothes to wear for an outside of my own house job. I have some decent clothes per se but will need more. Most of what I have is for leisure but trust me, heels are still no longer in my future. My ankles will never handle those again.  Being out of the work environment for so many years I am hoping I can find something with unemployment so high right now. I am pretty sure I will since God is the one going before me in all of this. I bought my brown pants, and there was much discussion in my mom’s house about brown. On New Year’s Eve brown was the color my sister and I wore and I couldn’t help but take notice of the name of our restaurant, Janie Brown’s. There was even a commercial on television before we left about some Brown’s dairy I think. The point being, brown seemed to be a theme and I looked up the meaning online and it represents humility and God’s connection with the commonplace and ordinary. How perfect to know I am just plain and ordinary enough that God will connect with me this year in a way like never before. I expect good things despite the whining I have done.

My New Year’s resolution is to heal from this grief, move on and stop complaining about it, from this point forward. Now some will say you have to let it out or you aren’t doing this right. They are correct. Most of the thoughts I put down here are at that present time, I would say most of the rest of my day is the moving on part and the moving through it. It is like the house, I forget sometimes how miserable I can be unless I read it.  I will have bad thoughts this is life but I will move through and beyond them after I deal with them. So this morning I release the negativity about the drudgery of all I must do in this house and embrace all I have to look forward to. Things are looking up, really they are. Time to go clean out my closet and put my new brown pants in there.

A New Year

It is about 12:15a.m. New Year’s Day 2011 and I am starting my first New Year’s alone since 1979. Steve you are not here to call me, kiss me or to say I love you. We will not share our hopes for this year, lie about our new year’s resolutions, or just sit quietly and listen to the revelers outside. It is a new year, a new place a new beginning for me and I feel a bit out of sorts. I start this year out as a widow, not a wife and changing this status is pretty scary. Mom’s dog is panting at all the noise outside and I guess I know how she feels, very apprehensive about all the noise going on around us right now. It sounds like a war zone outside and feels like I am living in one some days or at least living in the aftermath of one.

I am not as sad as I was on Christmas, just pensive and a bit curious about what a new year will bring other than the excitement of the events in my children’s lives. I wonder will I have excitement too, will I adjust to my new status in life and will I be able to do this? My sadness is not as deep as it has been and perhaps a corner really has been turned. I hope so because I have so much to do and as I type this there is Steve’s face in my mind again. Is guilt nagging at me a bit because I am trying to move on quicker? Maybe, but I have to move on to survive and can’t allow sadness to paralyze me, that is not who I am. I adapt and move forward. Do I feel guilt about adapting and moving forward? Yes I do and I don’t think it will help me move on quicker by dwelling on it.

I felt a twinge of guilt today enjoying the company of friends and I felt guilt about enjoying the company of my family. Now I know guilt is not a good emotion but I think it is somewhere in that darn book on grieving. Is this a step or am I blazing a new trail, but who really cares, right? I wanted to do this alone with God as my guide and I believe He is here with me. Erase this guilt Lord, so I can have some fun without guilt, like you do to my chocolate when you remove those pesky calories? Well I suppose a certain amount of guilt makes for a good conscience, but the guilt I bear is survivor’s guilt. It is hard to believe I am alive without Steve and hard to understand the why behind it. Why did he get to go first, or why did God think I am strong enough to handle this right now in my life? I am a survivor, but am unused to doing this alone.  Did I learn all I needed to do this?

All my fun times seems bittersweet now. I am able to feel better for brief periods of time and then I wake from the joy of it into the reality of it. The good news is I am feeling better about things and think perhaps some of the woeful times may be lessening. The bad news is the guilt associated with letting Steve go and releasing more and more sorrow into the arms of my Father in Heaven.

 I don’t want to have the attention of a gnat and move onto the next thing in my life without honoring Steve by not mourning him properly. My mind is clearer now than it has been since October 19^th. I am able to read and can have a thought and carry it through. I can watch a program on television and follow it so I am recovering well. Then there is the thought that pops into my head, Steve is having a great time and not mourning me at all. So there it is, he has released me so thoroughly that he doesn’t give me a thought and here I am grieving him so. I look forward to eternity where I won’t have this daily drama of emotion, well at least I hope it is that way.

So guilt, guilt go away don’t come back another day, Renee really wants to go out and play. Please note play really means I want to move on and be happy without guilt and I need to move on. I will never forget my 29 years with Steve, they were great times but I have to live out the rest of my life without his counsel and experience. I have to learn to do new things and take care of myself financially and this means some hard work ahead of me so guilt, go away. I really won’t be playing after all. I need to work and get my act together. That may mean having some fun times learning new things and reconnecting with old friends and meeting new ones. I have no place in my life for you guilt, so please let me be. Happy New Eternity, Steve I am sure your celebration was better than mine but that is alright we will see each other soon enough.