It was an interesting 10 days. It was a week and a half of guessing games, assumptions,
And jumping to conclusions. (on my part) It was a very emotional 10 days, and it was 10 days I do not wish to repeat again. But it came with a lot of lessons, and things that I probably needed to improve on. This one’s all on me.
In this weird version of life, the one I didn’t ask for where Im a widowed person and where
My husband and I don’t get to have our future together, it’s the simple things that mean the most to me, and that I begin to rely on. Probably the biggest of those things has been the friendship I have developed over the past year and a half, largely via daily phone chats, with a widower that I feel a strong connection with. I have developed feelings for this person, and he knows this, and agrees that there is something there between us. But he isn’t in a place right now to explore that, or to think about being in a relationship with someone. That is okay. Our friendship and our connection means the world to me.
The day after this posts, February 17th 2017, will be four years since my husband Mike died, suddenly, from a heart attack in his sleep at the age of 59. I've been watching that date approach for too long this year. Dreading it. Not just for the pain of the day, but because four years sounds so awfully long to have been without him. I am four years older, and he is four years away from me. And that damn clock never stops. I'm going to keep getting older, and he is going to keep getting farther and farther away from me in time, and I can't stop any of it.
To top if off I'm writing this on Valentine's day, which is another tough one. I hate that those dates will always and forever be three days apart. I cried hard today. Four years ago Mike surprised me with flowers, a card, a lovely box of chocolates from our local Big Island chocolatier, and a certain garden hose I had been wanting. Three days later he was dead. I never watered my garden again after that. It died too, and I didn't care.
This particular blog will be short and sweet, and I know that all of you understand. It’s night on Valentine’s Day and I’ve spent the past two days determinedly making Love bigger than grief, delivering joy in colorful bouquets of flowers.
I took on a job with a local florist, appropriately named Fairytale Florals, just for this day. I knew I couldn’t let myself languish with my thoughts for the day, so I found a way to bring Love to others. I drove up and down highways and roads in my pink car, waving to people who passed me by, talking to those accepting the delivery.