That’s what they say, I reckon. Or maybe even the dreaded, “she’s over it”.
But I’m not so much. Better in many ways yes, but not ‘all better’ and certainly not ‘over it’. The thing is, you never get over it, the death of a spouse, but I reckon you get through it. And by my reckoning, the through part takes a lot of slogging.
One of the things that makes it hard is that no one ever mentions him. His sister and I talk-we laugh and reminisce about his humor and his foibles. But around here, even with people who knew him longer than I did, it’s as if he never existed. And the fact that they don’t mention him kills me by inches.
It’s knocking me hard these days because tomorrow is his birthday. It would have been his seventieth. June 27th would have been our fifth wedding anniversary; this coming November would have marked fifteen years together. All these milestone dates, and yet there’s no one here with whom to celebrate. The calendar is both an easer of grief, and disrespectful of it, the way it just keeps relentlessly moving forward, moving on.
It’s likely the day will come, nine years and a day from now, when I will have lived as many years without him and beyond him as I did with him. I try not to think of that too much, because it just hurts so damn bad.
from margaritas (lost count, but at least 3-4 on the rocks in the 12 oz Tervis tumbler) yesterday afternoon, cramps (don't let anyone fool you, perimenopause doesn't mean ain't nothin' happening in the 'cycle' department) and Motrin in the middle of the night.
I've managed to make it out to the grocery store, where I bought a few groceries, got to the car, and remembered the other half of my mental list, so had to go back in and do it again.
The ole brain is not firing on all cylinders this morning. Bleahh.
ETA @ 3:55 p.m: After three bottles of water, two glasses of root beer, and some dinner, I'm in better shape. The idea of a gin & tonic flitted across my mind, but I think resisting that temptation would be one of those better part of valor deals.
The 'Shamwow'* miracle towel. Having said that, one has to admire Vince's spokesperson ability to suck you in and watch the entire thing. I think I have a little crush on him, actually. Must be that fuhgedaboutit, minor-league, Goodfellas vibe he's working.
*I wanted to embed the youtube video, but there weren't any with decent sound quality. And this is one you have to hear. Trust me.
I love it, I really do. It's challenging, task-oriented, involves problem-solving, long-term planning, all those things that make a creative chick on the Ausperger's end of the spectrum like me hum.
Having said that: Egad, sometimes I have to wonder where my coworkers leave their common sense. And I also have copious examples of ego and superego at work.
State standardized testing began today. I'm the district test coordinator. Being the helpful girl that I am, I made the rounds of the schools that were testing this morning just to check on things, make sure everyone got off on the right foot. Keep in mind this is statewide testing, and test security is a biiiig issue (and probably is with standardized testing in your state as well). There have been test security violations in other districts that have led to State Law Enforcement investigations, loss of jobs and teaching certificates, and in one or two cases, jail.
All I'm gonna say about this morning is this: I'm thankful for sheer dumb, fucking luck. I'll take it over bad luck or none at anytime. Sheesh. I'm sure there's more gray under my natural red after this morning.
As for ego and superego, nothing beats a spoiled twit with an overdeveloped sense of entitlement. There is a position open in our district by dint of a grant I wrote. A teacher in our district, who has been out of the classroom for a couple of years has been told they will be returning to the classroom next year. Teacher no likey this development. Teacher sent a letter asking to be considered for the grant position. I confirmed receipt of said letter, and said further communication concerning interviews, etc, would be forthcoming once the newspaper advertisement ran. Said teacher point-blank: 'I thought if you had a person in-house qualified for the position, you didn't have to advertize outside?'.
I'm hoping my silence in the face of the question spoke the volumes to this teacher I wanted it to.
I spent four whole days and four nights with him last weekend. The visit revolved around baseball (one minor league game & one Braves game), and just hanging out.
We spent most of Sunday afternoon on his patio, drinking Sam Adams Irish Red and listening to the game on the radio. Later we switched to gin & tonics to go with our dinner of grilled ribeyes, oven-roasted red potatos and carrots (homemade garlic bread was also prepared, but I burned it-I blame the g&t's).
We started out watching the game on tv, cuddled up on the sofa. I got a bit teary-eyed, because it was all so...normal. Just a quiet Sunday at home, having coffee, reading the paper, and relaxing together.
A recurring theme on the widder Internet board I frequent is 'the new normal'. This is a new normal I can get used to right easily.
I have been up and down the road since last Thursday, to Columbia that morning, then five hours to Georgia Thursday afternoon. I came home Monday, made a quick trip to the office, and covered a meeting for the paper.
Yesterday morning I scooted down the road to Charleston for a two-day meeting and back home today.
I'm wore slap out. Great weekend with the boyfriend--more on that later.