I’m in a tearful state. I slept in after an early wake-up with my puppy. I got him settled and went back to my bed. I was shocked that it was close to 10:30 when I returned to the kitchen. I washed some dishes and got ready to take my new friend for his first park walk. It was perfect: he liked it, walking by my side, and tossed his attention back and forth from geese to passing dogs to interested folks. Now that we’re home I see that he’s tired, napping on the backdoor stoop ~ his favorite place for now.
The backdoor stoop. I stand there, and feel the breeze. Scott would stand on the same rock before heading into the yard. I went out with friends last evening and had a nice time but I grew sadder and sadder as I drove home. Scott wouldn’t be there. I miss his concern, his touch, our dialog. I miss hearing his footsteps in the house, across creaky floorboards he always wanted fixed. He made me feel worthy, and caring, smart enough, and even funny. My “person”, my “self” doesn’t feel as special anymore. I miss the way he looked at me. Tears roll down my cheeks. I can’t take on the list of things I wrote yesterday. I think of friends, sisters, relatives to call but then I begin to imagine the conversation and realize that it wouldn’t help. Instead, I’m going to respect my sadness and carry it with me today. That actually sounds comforting. I’ll let it disappear or lessen as it hopefully will, but I’ll also just breathe with it, and let it be. I’m not going to try to manipulate this mood away or it might just dig-in its heels and win.
I don’t know if those that pass on continue to be aware of us in the way that I would like, which makes my sadness deepen, but I do know this : if Scott is aware, then I am certain his love for me is enough to help me move forward into some lighter days.