~ Happy Birthday ...

... today is Tom's birthday.

I miss him.

I bought a cupcake for him.

I lit the candle.

I sang "Happy Birthday".

And then I cried.

Happy Birthday Tom.

I love you.

 

The other day we had another snowstorm.

I've lost count on how many storms we have had.

I made myself a cup of coffee and was heading towards the window

to watch it snow.

I thought I saw a red leaf in the tree right outside my window.

As I got closer, I realized it wasn't a leaf at all ....

... it was a cardinal.

I was thrilled to have spotted it.

I ran to grab my camera and prayed that he would still be there when I returned.

He was.

He had his back to me and I began talking to him ....

"turn around .... let me see your face."

He turned his head slightly ... as if he actually heard me.

I continued speaking to him ...

asking him to let me see his face.

I was so afraid he'd fly off without letting me see his face.

And then ...

... he turned around.

I was thrilled!

And then I stepped back ...

... I got a funny feeling that I can't explain.

I put my camera down and just watched him

until he flew off.

They say that seeing a cardinal is a sign from

a loved one who has died

letting you know that they are in the afterlife.

 

That funny feeling I got ....

... a sign?

 

You tell me.

 

 

~ Snowflakes ....

.... he sent me snowflakes.

An infinite amount of snowflakes.

All for my viewing pleasure.

Because I told him that when we moved up to New Hampshire

I wanted at least one huge snow storm

so that I could just sit back and enjoy watching it snow.

And so I did.  Watch it snow.

We got one heck of a storm ... 16 inches of this stuff was delivered to us.

That's good considering they originally predicted we'd get over 2 feet.

The wind was blowing so hard at times

that the snowflakes looked like they were twirling around

like little ballerinas. 

The snowflakes even tried to come inside via the balcony....

Lucky for me I have storm windows over the screens.

As much as I find snow to be an annoyance,

I do have to say that it looks lovely.

 

Oh, yes......just lovely.

Unless you don't have access to a garage and have to park outside.

Not me.

I park in a heated garage, thank you very much.

 

I think I'll go out tomorrow and explore the neighborhood.

 

 

Tom,

Remember

when I'd go out and use the snow blower after a storm.

You'd be so nervous, afraid that I would get hurt so

you  "secretly" watched me from the bedroom window.

You didn't think I noticed.

I did.

Then you'd come to the front door and give me the "thumbs up"

for doing such a good job.

I love you for that.

For watching out for me.

Thanks for the snowflakes today.

All my love.

 



~ Remember ....

.... Forever

 

I thought long and hard about whether or not to even choose a word for 2015.

After all, my word for 2014 was "Challenge"

and indeed I was presented with one of the biggest challenges I could ever expect.

After giving it some thought

I decided that my word for 2015

would be "Remember".

 

To solidify the fact that I had chosen that word

I headed over to Litva's Jewelry

and purchased a couple of her beautiful rings.

 

When the box arrived I was hesitant to open it.

I'm not quite sure why but I was actually afraid to open it.

Maybe because it would be a solid reminder that Tom is dead

and this would almost be.....in my mind.....equivalent to wearing his
tombstone on my finger.

I walked around the box.

I gently pushed it.  I picked it up.

I opened it.

 

I cried.....and cried.....and cried.

 

 

Remember...

to grieve....for as long as it takes.

This is a journey I wasn't ready for.

Every day is a challenge.

I grieve deeply....painfully.

 

 Remember...

to celebrate....his life.  Our life.

I was lucky enough to have him for 44 years.

He is etched in my heart....my soul.

That will never be taken from me.

 

Remember...

to cry. 

Softly....loudly...,

I cry myself to sleep EVERY.SINGLE.NIGHT.

Sometimes softly.  Sometimes loudly.

 

Remember...

to smile.

I am beginning to be able to smile when I think about Tom.

When I say his name.

When I look at his picture.

 

Remember...

to take deep breaths.

 

Remember...

to exhale.

 

Remember...

his love.  His sweet, sweet love.

I will never again be loved the way that he loved me

nor will I ever again love someone  the way that I loved him.

Tom and I were a "once in a lifetime". 

And I'm perfectly okay with that.

 

I will ...

 

Remember

 

Tom

 

Forever

 

 

~ Do You Believe ....

.... in signs?

Signs from our loved ones who have died?

 

I want to believe.

Since Tom died I keep searching for signs from him.

I keep praying to sense his presence.

There are no signs.

I do not feel his presence.
I think there are coincidences.
 

This week I had a few "coincidences".

 

Coincidence #1

Wednesday

Got up.  Poured myself a cup of coffee.

Walked over to the window and looked out.

There was a moving van.

It was "Tom's Moving Company".

For a second I thought "is Tom moving in or is he telling me

that it's okay to move out?"

 

Coincidence #2

Wednesday

Ran some errands. 

Pulled up into a parking spot.

The car in the spot in front of me had the license plate

"JACK-"

Tom called me "Jack".

 

Coincidence #3

Friday

On Thursday night I could not sleep.

I cried all night.   I thought about him all night.

I talked to him all night.

Why wasn't he with me?   Why couldn't I feel his presence?

As I crawled out of bed in the morning

I walked over to the bedroom window and looked out at the brook below

as I always do.

But today I noticed something.

Take a look.

Do you see it?

I saw it immediately.

Look closer.



Can you see the heart shaped rock?

The light snowfall overnight must have covered it to look that way.

A sign? 

A coincidence?
I don't know.  I want to believe.

 

It has been 5 months.

22 weeks.

154 days.

3,672 hours.

220,320 minutes.

13,219,200 seconds.

 

Of loneliness.

Of helplessness.

Of sorrow.

Of anger.

Of fear.

Of wanting to believe he is giving me signs.

Of wanting to feel his presence.

 

 

~ It Is Now ...

4 months

123 days

17 weeks

2,952 hours

177,120 minutes

10,627,200 seconds

since Tom died.

 

I still visit your blogs.

 I just haven't had the energy to post lately.

 

I am struggling to get back control of my life.

I am still consumed with grief.

Every.Single.Day.

Some days are worse than the next.

I just never know when the grief will be mild

or when it will explode from within me.

I am a walking grief bomb.

I am a whirlwind of emotions.

 

Sometimes I regret having moved from our home of 30 years.

I'm still not feeling his presence here with me in the condo.

 

I hear that "time will heal" ....

I just don't know when that time will come.

 

For now I will grieve.

Every.Single.Day.

 

 

 

 

 

 



~ It Has Been ....

... a little over a month.

33 days to be exact.

792 hours,

47,520 minutes,

2,851,200 seconds

of excruciating pain.

Of devastating loneliness.

Of feeling lost in a fog of disbelief.

I can go for hours at a time without crying.

That's if I keep myself so busy that I don't have time to think.

About anything.

And then .... wham .... out of nowhere something just knocks the wind right out of me.

And I cry uncontrollably.

I cry from so deep within that my body shakes with each tear.

 

Lately, these are some of the things that make me cry.

Places he sat on .... in .... by .... during his last weeks.

 

His walker sits by the bed ... waiting for him to get up and attempt to get around.

I see it there and it makes me cry.

He fought so hard to not get to this point ...

but he accepted it like a gentleman when he realized it was a necessity. 

And that makes me cry. 

 

His office chair ... waiting for him to start his work day.

I walk past this room and step back and look in.

They came and took his office computer away.....another piece of him gone.

Sometimes at night when I can't sleep

I get up and sit in this chair in the dark

and I cry.

 

His chair at the table.

Waiting for him to arrive for a feast.

The last few weeks ... especially days ...

he wasn't doing very much eating.

But he'd sit there and watch and wait for me to eat.

And he'd tell me how good it looked.

How good it smelled.

But he just wasn't hungry.

And that makes me cry.

 

The chair in the sunroom.

It's funny how we hadn't used that room much in the last few years.

But in the last few weeks of his life

we used this room every.single.day!!!

We'd get up and he'd sit there and read the paper.

Drink his Orange/Pineapple Juice.

Take his multitude of pills.

We'd talk about the condo and what was being done to it.

We'd talk about colors and furniture and countertops and tile.

I'd watch him fall asleep on this chair in the middle of conversations.

In the middle of phone conversations.

In the middle of texting someone.

Sleep was absorbing him more and more.

And then he couldn't come downstairs anymore to sit in this room with me.

And that makes me cry.

 

When I thought that he would be coming with me to New Hampshire and the condo

we couldn't wait to leave this house and get up there.

Now that he is gone

I am finding it very difficult to wrap my head around leaving here.

I am so dang emotional about leaving here.

He's everywhere.

Sometimes I swear I can smell him.

He's here.

Will I be abandoning him when I leave?

Will he know to come with me?

And that makes me cry.

 

My Throw Back Thursday shot:

Tom,

I love you.

I will love you until I die.

And if there is life after that,

I will love you then.

 



~ I Am A ...

... Widow.

It sucks.

It hurts.  A lot.

Being a widow makes me sad.

It makes me lonely.

It makes me angry.

It makes me cry.   A lot.

I am scared.

I am grieving.

I am crying.

I am a widow.

And it sucks.

Everything seems muted.

There is very little color in my life right now.

No happiness.

Just sorrow.

No smiles.

Just tears.

And it sucks.

July 12, 2014.

A day I will never forget.

It is circled on the calendar.

It has been 25 days.

600 hours.

36,000 minutes.

And it sucks.

It sucks.  A lot.

Yet I cannot flip the calendar page to August.

It sits on my wall as July.

Occasionally I walk by and pound the date with my fist.

I scream at it.

I swear at it.

I hate it.

I hate it with all of my being.

Yet I cannot flip the calendar page to August.

 

I am a widow.

And it sucks.