Anchor

It's time.

Time for Jim to be coming home from work. I think both Mercury and I know this. He had stopped laying by the door waiting, but now he is at my side and looking at me. On a nice night like this Merc and I would be sitting on the stoop waiting. Having heard from Jim that he was on MLK and almost here.

The truck pulls up, he gets out and looking tired and beat comes in. A hug and a kiss and some food for him. He talks while he eats and tells me about the day. We banter back and forth, me trying to cheer him up, him getting mad at the bigwigs at work. Seeing his pain from a long day, I start getting mad. More hugs and hip thrusts and just plain old bonding moments.

This is missed. It is a hole in my evenings routine. To watch some tv and then have Jim to talk to about this show or that show. It's not there anymore. I tried talking to Merc but he just sighs. And sometimes farts.

I find that I talk to Jim's picture that is on the wall in the living room. That is a comfort. Also just putting my hand on his cremations box calms me and allows me to talk to him. Sort of a solid anchor in an everchanging tide of emotions. I wear his shirts, his belt, his watch. For my birthday dinner with my Dad, I wore the dress watch I gave Jim for his 40th birthday with the inscription on the back "Happy 40th I love you". These things are a small comfort, but a comfort none the less.

I have been reading a lot of grief counseling books and talking online with other widows. This feeling is not unusual. It's just that it comes and goes. I can be disturbed one night about something and okay the next night about the same thing.

This is a roller coaster ride that I didn't sign up for. I hate roller coasters. But I am on this ride and can't get off. Don't even know how long it runs. I read that usually we get thru the first year, think we are okay and then the second year is worse then the first year. Oh great. Well, I know me. I know I think outside the box. I know I try to make it work somehow. I will. I can't say I am a strong woman. I can say I am...well I don't know what. The strong days come and go, the sad days come and go, the just want to curl up days come and go, and the got to do two things and then curl up days are in the majority.

I have also been finding that really old, really odd memories of Jim have been popping in my head.I have been writing them down so I don't forget them and will share them on the next blog. But just having those come to the front of my brain has been a comfort. It allows me to remember a wonderful man who made me smile.