It's All About Me

That is what Donny used to say early in our marriage.  He would tease me by saying that whenever I would be serious about something that was bothering me.  It was his way of getting me to smile and lighten up a little.

It took me a long time to figure out that was why he would say that.  I would only see it as a selfish statement.  Oh sure, I would laugh when he said it, but inside I would think that he didn't get it.  He was married now and was a father.  It couldn't be all about him!

He took his role as husband and father pretty seriously.  He felt a responsibility to me and our girls. He had to provide for us and see that we were cared for.  He did a good job of that, so much that as our years together accumulated I could see that his sense of responsibility weighed on him.  I was the silly one making him smile or trying to cajole a smile from him.  I would always see something good even when times were at their worst.  (Hence the name of this blog...The Hopeful Romantic)

It was only in the last couple of years that I was able to see his intention.  With a devilish glint in his eye and a grin on his face he was taking of me.

I was writing to him recently (something that I do regularly) when I told him that he would laugh at my attitude being all about him.  Even though he is not physically here with me anymore I feel him all around me.  A song on the radio that he especially liked...something I made for dinner that he would have really enjoyed...a blouse that he liked on my.  It occurred to me that I am looking for him and that he is here in all of those ways and more.  It seems that his is still taking care of me.

The Hopeful Romantic

Talking to My Husband

Yes, I talk to Donny every day.  I thank him for things he did that help me now.  He set the mortgage payment up so that it paid without me having to do anything.  He told me that password for his laptop...again!  I never could remember what it was and I asked him just days before I lost him.  I found that he had bought a multi-pack of the bar soap we both liked.  Some things seem little, others give me pause and I am grateful for the things he did for me.

Besides talking to him, I write him a letter most every day.  In those first few horrible days I poured my grief out to him in those letters.  I told him I loved him, that I missed him and wondered how I was supposed to get by without him.

I don't regularly reread those letters, but recently I read the first couple again.  I was surprised to find that things I had told him in those early days were repeated in later letters.  I don't write to him every day and I don't have a certain time of day that beckons me to his computer.  I just write him when the mood strikes.  Sometimes I want to tell him something that happened that day.  Being empty nesters we spent a lot of time together.  I always looked forward to seeing him at the end of my work day and catching up with each other.

So I talk to him.  I know that somewhere out there he is still listening.

The Hopeful Romantic

My Best Guy

Well, it has certainly been a long time since I was here.  I still love to write, but I like to be in the moment and there just never seemed to be a time when I wanted to sit and write.  I will tell you why that changed.

My husband, best guy, best friend, lover, partner, etc., has died.  I lost him just over a month ago and I still feel rather numb.  While his health was not the best I never thought I would lose him at such a young age.  He was only 57.  Far too young to be gone.  Far too little time with him in my life.  For now I can't really talk about his death.  Maybe later.

Right now I am focusing on getting through the next hour, the next day.  Thanksgiving was no worse than any other day.  It was sad that he was not there, but it is sad that he is not here everyday.  We were empty-nesters with two cats and a dog.  Just us.  We saw our children weekly or more often. But for the most part it was just us.

We were married for a bit more than 15 years.  We were not youngsters when we met and I had been married before.  Like most couples, we had our good times and our bad.  Don, my husband, told me that neither one of us was perfect, but we were perfect for each other.  So true.

I find myself looking back from the moment I knew he was not going home with me.  I found myself being thankful. I am thankful for the last two weeks we had where there were no cross words, no arguments, no rolled eyes or exasperated sighs.  We certainly have had all of those, but as I reflected back there were none in those last two weeks.  I stopped at two weeks because I really couldn't go back any further without a calendar and I was glad.  Glad that I did not have guilt about saying something mean spirited or anything else that would have had me wishing for a do over.  

There are a lot of things I am thankful for and I try my best to focus on those.  I try not to deny my tears.  I do try to create a buffer around me when I am in public.  I try to not go places alone right now.  I don't want to talk to people who may not know he is gone and end up crying in the aisles of the grocery store.  I am trying to be kind to myself and to go with the flow.  If it feels right, I do it.
Right now being here and telling you about Don feels right.

Thank you.
The Hopeful Romantic