Saturday, March 2, 2013

Rough Days

Where is that Leo Lion when I need him? He could write this quicker using fewer words than I do. These are tough days. March 6 is the one year anniversary of Jim's death. On top of many "firsts" coming just before it. Yesterday I donated our 2000 Toyota Van to public radio. It had been sitting in its accustomed place in front of our house - without moving - since October. I sat in the car Thursday afternoon and made lists of all I could remember of trips and times Jim and I spent in the car together. Wrote and wrote and wrote. And cried. I did not want to give up the car. It gave out. The pick up truck arrived at 7:30 am. He hooked up the car, removed the license plates and I signed the paperwork and gave him the title. The man was understanding. When we were done he drove to the corner and turned around so that when he drove by our house I could get a good picture. This morning I did not look out the front window. I can imagine the van is still there. Seems foolish I know but some days I want to grab hold of anything that belonged to Jim. Hang on. Hold him here. Deny that he is not coming back. So, now its a year. Maybe I should be further along. I thought I would be coming closer to normal - but then I realized why I am not I am waking up - not but wide awake. But maybe others did not have two funerals - five months later. Jim died March 6. We had a wonderful uplifting Memorial Mass on March 24. Then I brought Jim's urn here. Because he was to be buried at Arlington National Cemetary - and you have to wait to be given a date. And, I waited and waited and waited until finally they called two months later to tell me the burial would be August 1. A five month wait until the final burial. I loved having Jim's ashes here with me. The urn was sitting on a bookcase shelf in the living room. The morning we left for Arlington it was like another wrench as we took Jim's urn to the car. The Arlington burial was a full military honors ceremony was wonderful. Ritual does sweeten the sorrow. But the burial was a new final good-bye - another funeral - - and suddenly I was emotionally back to the beginnign. The grief choked me again. So, here I am - at his one-year anniversary...but its not a year for me... And, there are still more "firsts" ahead.

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