First of all, let me say that I turned my calendar page. Yay! Go me.
Next, I have been thinking about all the things that sneak up on me and rattle me when I least expect it. I think about Terry every.single.day. Every thing, every place, every decision, every worry, involves me picturing what his opinion would be if he were here. But, he isn't, and I am the ultimate decision maker about my reactions and decisions. At least I know I'm still giving him reference. Though I know, it is futile.
I miss him.
I miss him in a way that no one will ever be able to understand. And, though he is in my thoughts on a daily basis, in the end...it's just me. And I keep moving. Keep on without him.
I've been thinking that as the second anniversary of my boyfriend approaches, that I'm doing pretty well. I've got this. Time passes. I should be over this by now. Nope. I have discovered that small things happen that show up out of nowhere and shake my soul.
For example: Last week, we (the girls, their husbands, and children) went to Cafe Rio. Erika and Tyler are moving to Southern California soon and taking my little darling grand girls. We keep having "Good bye dinners"! It's great. We laugh and enjoy food together. Bask in the cuteness of Eloise and Hazel. It's the best. And, while I'm going to cry and cry when they actually leave me here, I am just drinking in the happiness we all have when we're together. Happy as little clams. (How are clams happy? I never got that one. Oh well.)
Then, when I least expect it, and for pretty crazy reasons, something happens and I'm filled with longing for Terry. After our dinner, as we prepared to leave, I saw one of Melissa's friends from High School. He gave me a long, tight hug. The kind of hug that isn't just a regular hug. I don't know if you've ever experienced this kind of hug. I call it the "You don't have to say anything" hug. His soul told mine that he missed Terry and that he was so sorry for the void left in my life because he had a hole in his, too.
In that five full second hug, I relived those content feelings of many weekends where our house was full of teenagers who were comfortable in our home. The friendships and fun. The thousands of fruit snacks and cans of soda. The games. The noise! (Oh, that noise. I loved it!) The second hand couch those kids put on our porch to have a place to hang out. And I KNEW they were there because they loved Terry. Of course, my daughters were gorgeous and pretty awesome and so were the other teens I helped raise who were also there. But...in the end...they loved Terry the most. They were there because Terry made them feel at home and special. Sam's hug reminded me of that. I cried in the car the whole way home.
Then, just this past Wednesday, I was rushing into my classroom to start the school day. I had been gone from those dolls Monday and Tuesday because of meetings so I was extra excited to be back. As I hurried along to put all of my "stuff" down, I fell off of my favorite, adorable shoes and broke my ankle. Not pretty. But, I didn't cry. It hurt but I was mostly laughing at myself because I kept picturing my fall. (Why do we laugh when people fall down? Because it's hysterical, that's why!) The administrators and other teachers came to help me out. But, before I could get up, I was told I had to give a call to Worker's Comp to give my information. No problem.
That was the second thing this week that I didn't see coming.
Me: Tami Anderson
Me: June 7, 1963
Operator: Marital Status?
Me: .....umm....that's a hard one.
I looked at all the people staring at me. Then fixed them on my best sister/friend Kathe and started sobbing as I willed myself to say: Widow
That's a hard word to say. If you've ever had to say it when you're describing yourself, you know what I mean. It was really the first time I'd said it out loud. "Widow" I hate that word.
So, now I'm bracing myself for the coming week. I realize it will be of no use. I can be as strong as I will myself to be. But, guess what? Somethings, you just don't see coming.
Five-Ingredient Chocolate Cheesecake Cups
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