Thursday once again

Dear Dazzy,

Every time Thursday rolls around, I think of how we went to bed in April, snuggled up, fell asleep...if only I had known it was for the very last time, I would have stayed awake all night just to hear you breathe, and just to watch you sleep. I would have ignored the over-tired yawning and stroked your baby-fine hair and told you over and over again how very much I love you.
We did some of that-"I love you" was a phrase we never tired of, probably because we really, truly, absolutely meant it in all its facets of meanings. We talked about the upcoming weekend, our plans, etc. We kissed and snuggled up, tired but content with life.

We slept.

Of course, you left us Friday in the arvo, and we have been beside ourselves with grief ever since. Friday's are weird for me still. I race the clock, reliving the last hours of your life with us here on Earth, remembering that I had a headache all day-which I chalked up to weather, but now I think it was more than that-waiting with the anxiety that only comes with the insomnia of being a new widow, waiting for something to happen differently.

The my reality settles in , and I know its just another sad and lonely day without you, honey. I struggle with it but it is slowly getting better, dare I say.

I went to a retirement part today after school. The people will have been married 37 years
( or so) next week, and they are both retiring from teaching. The wife said she would be available to sub-I wanted to scream! First I was jealous of the length of married life, then I was jealous that they were both still alive, then I thought why on Earth are you not booking a cruise around the world while you still can?

JEEZE, some people just do not get it, Dazzy.

I take great satisfaction in the knowledge that we always "got it", hubby. Always.

So now I write, and miss you , and hope for better days for all of us you left behind. Andrew is taking it very hard, as I knew he would. Actually, honey, we all are.

I want to take the Wachovia bunch out to lunch soon.
Maybe I'll make them some sticky-date pudding and take it to the branch!

Remember when we shared that great sticky-date in the club in Melbourne?
The Red Tongue Lounge, lol, I still have the matchbook cover!

It's when I first met all your dear friends; there is a gauntlet to get through, huh?
I wanted them to like me, to know that I would always be yours, and that I would never break your heart-I think they caught on pretty quickly that you and I were crazy about one another.

That sticky-date was the best. Just like you, my sweet husband. Just like you.