Tuesday, May 31, 2022

May 31

 May 31

Once the warmer weather came, my life became  hectic.  Chores continued to build daily, now there were fields to mow, lawns to mow, weed eating to do, maintenance on the house, blueberries and the orchard to care for, plants and flowers to care for, vegetables to plant, plus of course caring for the chickens and dogs.  This weekend I took a couple of days and did nothing, 

May has been such a bittersweet month.  May 5th would have been our 48th anniversary, we had our very first date for his high school graduation of May 26, 1968, to say I have been sad, well I admit I have been very sad.

Friends keep wanting me to visit them in places like Florida and upstate New York and even out West.  I spent years traveling on jobs by myself and it was no problem, but now...Rick and I had incredible times traveling together.  We had experiences that many only dream about, making friends everywhere we went, seeing so much beauty, truly living a dream.  

I have hit a wall.  Each time my friends ask me to visit and I know they do so out of love, I freeze.  Traveling without Rick does not compute in my brain or maybe my heart is in the way.  The connection that we had on our travels has faded with his death.  I do want to see friends, but seeing them without him breaks my heart, all those happy memories taunt.  It is like each time someone sees me out and expresses their sorrow of Rick's passing ( it will be two years July 16) the wounds that cover my heart reopen and the pain hits all over again with a dastardly vengeance. 

Life will slow down on the farm this fall, after I get things winter ready.  I am trying to visualize myself traveling alone then, seeing friends, allowing memories to comfort me.

I still haven't performed.   I sing to the dogs and the chickens, in the car, in the shower, in the field. I performed for many years before Rick and I married,  but music like traveling became such an integral part of our marriage that when he died it's as though he just whacked that part of me off and took it with him.

I think of him and wonder how his life would have been without me.  Would he have picked up the pieces and moved on, thinking of me with fondness and maybe meeting someone else? Or would he have become frozen/suspended in a half century  of being entwined with me and trying to figure out how to live alone.

But life does go on, there is beauty in this place that makes me laugh out loud, moments when friends and family surround me with so much love that that I can breathe deeply and memories  caress my spirit and heart.  The gardenias are blooming, the hydrangeas and the bee garden, hummingbirds dart about and life seems to have exploded here.  Spring proves that life goes on.

My nephew James lost his leg a few months ago.  He and I talked about his phantom pain, how he can still feel his foot and toes, yet he knows they are not there.  I told him I understand completely how a part of you can be missed so greatly and the logic in your brain knows it is no longer there, but you know it will always be a part of you and will always grieve the loss.

I hope you all are well, that every day you whisper a few words of gratitude.  Savor every moment, hug those you love and always see the beauty in the ordinary.