Monday, June 11, 2007

another week begins

Dear Dazzy,

Yes, another week with the reno guys here at 9, and the mess commencing at 9:05...:P You know how damn picky I am about that stuff so you would say this is a good lesson in patience for me. Like I need any more, eh?

It's fine thing, hon, you would love the progress; it's shaping up nicely and I will be thrilled when it's all finished. It's VERY weird not to be doing it ourselves.

I loved this house when we found it-we both did-and while I feel comfort here, because it IS our house, I also feel that melancholy because you are not here to share it with me anymore.

Today was HOT-like 92 degrees-and all I thought of was when you and I would sneak back to our old townhouse pool and go swimming after dinner, LOL

We knew how they rigged the gate SHHHHHHHHHH and we would sometimes even sneak Ranger back for a quick dip. I remember putting my arms around you while we sat on the steps of the shallow end of the pool. Watching the fireflies on those hot July nights, with your arms around me , I felt so loved, so wanted, so happy.

The summer stretches out in front of me and all I feel is hopeless. There is no joy waiting for me at the end of every day. You are not coming home to me and Rangie every night, bounding in the door to say "G'Day!" and ask about the kids, then whats for dinner...the usual stuff. How I miss that, Dazzy. Really.

Then my mind wanders and I think you will not be here for Father's day.

Ash already had pressies all picked out for you months ago. We had to cancel that order.

I will not be getting you that fancy schmancy tool belt, or the silly cereal dispenser you wanted. Every time I see that thing at the Container Store I cry.

It was so you :P

I know I am not the only person to feel this kind of sadness. I know people go on, have different and meaningful lives, etc. That's what I read anyway.

I am just not sure how that is going to be me.

Today I packed up all the cards you had ever sent me-I kept every one, as you well know-and I put them in a beautiful keepsake box. It's blue, babe-your fave color. I have cards. letters, emails, notes-if you wrote anything to me, I have it.

Someday, when we have grandkids, I am going to take that box down and share it with them. I will tell them how kind you were, how thoughtful, how you always made me feel so loved.

I won't have to tell them much; all they will have to do is read what's in the box. Those cards tell more about the kind of man you are, honey, than any biography ever could.

When it came to romance, you ROCK, Skippy!

Tonight is one of those hard ones, babe. That feeling in the pit of my stomach is back-that sense of horror when all the world has gone black from howling emotion because that unthinkable thing has happened and cannot be changed.

I hate it. It stalks me like some sneaky thief, just waits for me to let my guard down and then it pounces, making me cry. And cry. And cry.

Its grief exponential. It HURTS.

I know I will have these roller coaster days-I have been reading about grief lately, trying to get a grip on it, albeit just a tiny one, and I know these feelings are considered fairly "normal."

Normal. HA!

I would give anything to have our normal life back again.




Love you, Dazzy. Miss you like crazy.

Kisses, Wifey

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