Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Back Again

Trip from hell in some ways. I found a job, saw some of my friends and saw some of my family in the area. That is all to the good, but lots of pain too. I also fell ill which really, really sucked and kept me from seeing two of my granddaughters.

I think I have to stop taking long car trips. I am so used to Cyndie next to me on a trip of that length. We traded driving, lit cigarettes for each other, opened snacks and sodas and listened to music and played "chain letter" on a thousand topics. Amazing the things that end up being hard to take. On that note, I have only been back to the beach once since she died and I keep putting off going there. Maybe tomorrow.

I went to the beach once near mid-April this year. I made a promise to scatter her ashes in Spring at the beach - she loved the beach. I went out early, sat for a while, then opened the package of ashes, walked into the surf and let her ashes go - into the water not the wind. I also wired our two wedding rings to a lock, for weight, and tossed that as far out as I could. The inscriptions read, "Always and forever", guess that was wrong. The water is pretty cold that time of year, but it felt good. I sat back down in the sun for a bit and then went home. The mark on my ring finger still has not faded.

In mid November 07, at her viewing, while looking at the empty husk that had been my life for twelve years, I promised her and the kids that I would scatter her ashes in April. Actually, the promise was for me. I made a promise to do something, a task, something I was honour bound to accomplish because I made a public promise. That helped keep me from killing myself for a while. I hoped that giving myself about five months would get me past the danger point. It did.

Goals were and are important for me in dealing with this. Waiting until April to do the ashes was a big one, but I also had smaller goals. I only bought food and cigarettes for one day at a time for months. Grief might make you forget food, but nicotine is a harsher mistress. So, every day, showered, dressed, and got out. Some days the trip was literally only to buy cigarettes, 20 minutes out and back. Some days longer, and then longer and longer. I judge my progress by noting that I now buy cigs a carton at time again.

We bought this house in March 07 and moved here from our first retirement location. We moved in in April 07. I left for overseas at the end of September 07. She killed herself in November 07. I have now lived in this house alone longer than I did with her. And it is still so empty.

2 comments:

Mrs Tilton said...

First suggestion I've ever seen of cigarettes having a positive therapeutic value...

More seriously, I hope I can love my spouse and family even half as much as you obviously love yours. And I hope -- would pray, if I had something to pray to -- that my love will never be tested as yours was.

All the best, and thanks for this painfully brave blog.

Keltixx said...

Mrs Tilton - My shrink also commented that I was the only person who could make smoking into a virtue. (smile)

Thanks for visiting. I put off writing any of this for a long time. Finally decided the pain of writing outweighed the pain of holding it inside. No bravery involved, just cowardly not to admit to crying.