Friday, June 08, 2007

Magical Thinking

Another Friday.
Another week without my Roo-boy :(
Seven weeks to be exact.
49 days.
No matter how I count it, its much too long to be without you honey.

I bought Joan Didion's book, "The Year of Magical Thinking," written after her hubby of forty years(!) died of an M.I., suddenly and swiftly, much like you.

I read through it in one sitting, like "The Road," and it comforted me to know I am NOT crazy wanting to keep your stuff in your closet or not drive your car. Or do whatever it is that comforts me.

I mean, if I start driving your car, whose car are you going to drive?

Totally illogical in nature, these kinds of thoughts are very rational to those of us who are grieving. Joan's thing was her hubby's shoes; she just couldn't give them away, even after giving away all his other clothes.

Yeah, I know, it's weird. I keep thinking one day I'll get up and you won't be my first thought. A friend told me that one day I'll forget.

She is mistaken; forgetting you is one thing that will NEVER happen.
I will be able to box up the emotion a bit, put it away in my heart and mind, and call it out when I chose to; but forget?

N-e-v-e-r.

You are a part of my soul. I could no sooner forget about you, Dazzles, then I could forget how to breathe.

Some people are starting to become annoyed that I am still so heartbroken-and I know it is because they have not been lucky enough to have had a love like ours. What we had/have is so special, so kind and good and respectful. We had chemistry(!!!!) and deliberate happiness.

You know, Didion was a writer, like her hubby. They worked at home together, sharing almost everything , but most of all the really respected one another. In reading her story I found so many parallels with the way our relationship worked that I was instantly sucked in to her story. They were part of that secret club, the one you and I were a part of-the people who loved, truly loved, one another on purpose, because the other was not only a decent human being but so worthy of love.

My mood today is what I will call stable. Mikey played an audition tonight for the Allen Fest thingy they do here in late June; of course the band made the cut. If they do well at the festival, they will win some recording time! Cool, eh? You were always so supportive of the kids' arts involvement. I wish you had been with us tonight.

Of course, the last time we went out was to see Mikey play. It was at the Coffeehouse, and we played scrabble and had lattes ( flat whites to the Aussies, lol) and took pictures. In fact, that night was the last night we had a photo taken of the two of us, smiling and hugging and happy-like always.

It was the week before all hell broke loose in our lives.

So tonight was very bittersweet, I cried a bit, but held it together-whoever invented waterproof mascara deserves a bonus-and drove home dissolving into tears once again.

I shouldn't be driving to OUR house by myself. Jeeze.
You are supposed to be driving too fast, reaching over to grope me, lol, and telling me what your exact plans were for becoming "rich, famous, and powerful," just like in that musical! :P

On another totally unrelated topic, the tile guys are making good progress. They will be done early next week. It's so elegant! You would love it, Dazzy. Actually, Rick said today that he knew you were with us, nodding your approval. That made me smile and cry at the same time.
No more hole in the wall in the kitchen, babe! It's all framed out now.

I hope you like it all.

Truth is , I know you do.

As always, I miss you and hope against hope that I am so wrong about an afterlife. What I wouldn't give to see you smiling at me , welcoming me with open arms, when my time on this planet is through.
No wonder people get stupid over religion.
It at least gives one hope in some small form.

Well, that's all for today, honey. Love you heaps...

Kisses, Wifey

1 comment:

Michael Salmon said...

Thinking of you Susan.
Lots of love.
Michael