Good morning, babe

Gosh. I look at your pictures every night before bed, every morning when I rise, and I’m still fighting the belief that you’re gone. It’s difficult to fathom, even though I’m living it. You were so strong. You were so full of drive and life. My babe, my big man, my protector. I still can’t get my head around it.

I miss you. God, how I miss you. Little things set me back. I plow on, doing pretty good, getting shit done, repeating in my head over and over “needs must”. I need to get the goat pen cleaned of brush, trees and briars. I don’t want to. But needs must.

It’s hot, manual labor my little body isn’t used to. This kind of work was what you and Devon did. But needs must.

I had to go to the store today to get supplies. As usual, I was invisible to the employees. Tractor Supply didn’t have the things I needed, so I went to Atwoods where the employees run from customers so they don’t have to do the heavy lifting.

I got bags of feed. All 300 pounds of it. I needed oil for the tractor and didn’t know what kind to buy. I had to ask some men there, and I just wanted to cry, because I didn’t know if I could believe them, and felt so ashamed to be so weak and small.

On your list of projects was concrete pavers for the walk ways to our doors so I bought 50 of them. No one came to help. My broken beat up back, and the high heat, nearly did me in. But I stacked them 10 tall on a cart. Wheeled the cart over to the back of your truck, set them on the edge, then jumped into the back of the truck to put them flat. It took longer than I had, but needs must.

I went to town specifically for mulch for the fruit trees, and completely forgot it. I was overwhelmed with being there to begin with, and sidetracked with needing a chainsaw, but scared to buy one without trying yours first. You wouldn’t let Devon or I use your chainsaw, but needs must.

I’m doing pretty good most of the time. I’m sad. So super sad, and lonely. I miss your beautiful face. Your chuckle. Your sparkling green eyes. I miss your big clod hoppin’ boots by my door, getting in the way of the dogs going out. I miss your presence. Your energy filled a room, and I’m left here alone with emptiness all around. It’s palpable. Sometimes I can’t breathe the emptiness is so thick.

The people on Facebook have been a godsend. They’ve been supportive and at times have kept me sane. I don’t feel like talking on the phone, so talking or posting on Facebook is easier than dealing with the ‘I’m sorry’s’ and ‘My Condolences’ you have to wade through when talking on the phone.

You’d be proud of me and Devon so far. We’re getting shit done. We’re clinging to each other in fear of losing what little we have left, terrified something will happen to the other one. Devon is really scared. He’s such a good kid, and babe I’m so proud of you for teaching him the skills he’s got. We wouldn’t be able to continue your great work without them.

Yesterday was a shit day. The poor dogs were left alone twice, once when I went to Atwoods, the other when I took Tut to the vet. With this china virus, I’m scared to leave the house in fear of me getting sick. Devon can’t do all the dogs by himself. I’ve prayed so often that you and I would at least survive the dogs so they always had a home, and now look at us. You’re gone. I can’t believe God took you so soon. I’ll never understand it. Never. It’s cruel punishment for the living.

I love you. I love you so very much. I hold your beautiful face in my heart and mind. I just want you here near me. To hold me one more time so I could at least say goodbye. I want to hold your big rugged strong hands and gain strength from you. Just one more time. God I miss you so much.

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