Funny headline. And while it’s true, it’s overshadowed by the ache in my soul for the man that I love, that should be here, watching and helping me work the farm.
I think back to the week leading up to you dying. We were antsy about you needing a by-pass. How that cracking of the chest would put you back at least 6 weeks. This, beyond all things, was our biggest worry. How could we not have even considered you wouldn’t make it to the surgery? God BJ, it wasn’t even in my head that you might not live long enough. What were we thinking?
We had storms again yesterday. Enough to keep me inside, resting from the hard work, trying to catch up on the computer work. I hate it. I hate sitting inside because I look around, shake my head, and try to convince myself that you really aren’t going to come home. It’s surreal. Will this non-belief/belief end? I don’t know. One part of me is sure it’s real. Finished. Done. Over. The other part of me is waiting for your funny face to pop around a corner and tell me it was all a big joke.
I’m waiting for the punchline. How long must I wait? The dogs would be so happy. But not near as happy as me. So come on home. The joke is over.
The good news is, Dad and Peg are moving just outside of Tyler. Moving here, on raw land, would be too much for them, and me. Without you here to operate the backhoe, to assist in cleaning that area up, it’s just too much for everyone. And at the end of the day, they need a fancier set up than what we can offer. I get it. I’m just so very, very glad, they’re closer than 30 minutes away. I wish it was closer, but it’s close enough.
The kids are coming out next week to lend a hand. Even Vince is going to drop by. Maybe he can take a look at that a/c in the bedroom and get it running before summer really drops down on me.
Bill has been a godsend. Sticking close to make sure I don’t lose my mind, and helping in areas that I simply don’t understand, or don’t want to deal with.
Our entire family has really rallied behind me, and it has helped so very much. I feel very loved, wanted, comforted. I’m blessed to have so many pitching in to help when it’s really not convenient for them to do so.
At the end of the day, none of it is a good substitute for you. I wish we were here, with the family doing their own thing, and us doing ours. I wish we were on the backside of your surgery, not me dealing with grief and sorrow and loneliness. This shit sucks. Big time.
It’s a very good thing we have the dogs. And Devon. I’m not sure how much more I would want to stick around if I didn’t know how much the dogs and Devon need me. Life is not the same without you. And while I was devastated, and am still not yet over, the death of Ma or Mom, your death far exceeds that feeling of losing them.
I cannot understand it. I don’t think I ever will. I miss you. I love you. I can’t wait to see you again.