Six Months of Slow Change

(173) Journal Entry: October 29, 2017

I woke up with a song playing in my mind, actually a replay of the same tune from a couple months ago:

Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?

And if you did, was she crying?

Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I need my baby.

Oh, won’t you tell her…that I love her.

Sigh.

Last night the tears dropped single file onto the white sheet as I looked at the two of us in the photo by my bedside.

The two of us. Those are the pics I stare at the most. The ones I hold close. How I miss him the most–side by side.

Til death did us part.

I glance to the left of the page to see my reading today has a focus on wives and husbands. I’m irked. I don’t want to be without my sidekick, my other half.

Changes.

It was near freezing this morning. I see small, white crystals on the garbage cans outside the laundry room window. I fear the outdoor plants won’t hold up to Mother Nature’s freezing touch.

The changes are slowly happening, so slow the eye doesn’t witness the transition. Some relationships are fading. Some are only beginning to flourish. My erratic sorrow has stabilized too.  Manageable most days.

Some moments I realize I’m enjoying myself, living outside the two of us. Moments, until I realize something is off, like I forgot my child in the car seat after I’d been in the store a couple minutes, only to franticly make my way back, and pull him protectively close.

Change hurts.

Change is necessary.

Sometimes it is good.

Sometimes it is for the good.

I faked happiness yesterday, the deep void I felt coming on overwhelmed me. I try not to hold back the emotions, but I just want the girls to not associate their mom with loss.

So I smiled. Tucked the pain under the sweater until I went to bed. That’s when the release gave way.

I wore the first sweater yesterday. Cozy. I moved the fall-winter wardrobe up front in my closet. The summer threads I gathered and decided to move out of the closet until needed again. (Perhaps next week; I do live in Texas after all.)

When I realize I have space in Bill’s closet. The only items left are his suits, ties and dress shirts. The smell upon opening the door of the closed space is like perfume to my soul.

I want to play house. Pretend he is away on a frequent business trip. A momentary comfort, and likely a hinderance to my healing to stay in the pretend space too long.

Today is the last day writing in this journal bible. It’s so full of treasures mined in the sadness of six months; it’s difficult to maneuver the hand in a comfortable position to write on.  Difficult to close.

Tomorrow we will journal on a new page on a lined space specifically catered for words.

Yes, another change.

Before I know it, another day will be upon us and I’ll wonder again how I made it this far without him. I’ll look back pages, amazed how much better I am today as I was months ago.

These small moments of change fill me with hope for a brighter tomorrow off somewhere in the distance of time.

Hope.

Hope drifts just far enough ahead, pulling me forward like a magnet just out of reach.

I sit here sipping my holiday blend, listening to a Christmas playlist on Youtube, as the nearby fireplace brings warmth to this special day.

Right now, life is a blend of hurt, with peaks of joy.

I feel him shake his head from above, as it is not yet Halloween, and I break the silent agreement of no “Silent Night”, and all other themed tunes, until after November 1st.

“Don’t judge me Bill Barone,” I exclaim to the silence. I can’t help myself. It is cold and it soothes me so 🙂

Besides, my ultimate Hope resides in the words, of the One who came down all those years ago on a dark, quiet night, to bring hope to a dying and hopeless world.

To another six months…

MY HUSBAND AND BEST FRIEND, BILL BARONE, PASSED AWAY FROM A LONG FIGHT AGAINST CANCER ON APRIL 29, 2017, AT PRECISELY 4:29AM. THE DISEASE TEMPORARILY WON OUT HERE ON THIS PLANET, BUT SINCE HIS ULTIMATE RESIDENCE IS IN HEAVEN, I AM CERTAIN HE WON OUT.  
THESE WRITINGS ARE A YEAR-LONG COMMITMENT TO FIND MY WAY OUT OF THE DARKNESS FROM HIS DEPARTURE. 
EACH ENTRY IS MARKED WITH A DAY AND A DATE.  THE FIRST OFFICIAL ENTRY WAS ON MAY 9, 2017. 

 

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2 thoughts on “Six Months of Slow Change

    • It was nice meeting you also! I read your posts and wanted to comment, but didn’t see an option to do so 😦 Keep it up, you have a story, and the couple posts pulled me in, feeling I knew you already…a sign of a great writer.

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