Happy Birthday to Me

Today is my birthday.  I have to think about how old I turned today.  52

To me that is just a number.  I'm not quite sure how I got to 52?  Wasn't I just 30?  I'm not quite sure where the years have gone.

Of course, I now know that my life has been divided into three parts:

1. the first 20 or so years of my life--as a child, growing up, and going to college.
2. the next 30+ years of my life--married to my best friend and love of my life raising our family and making a home.
3. and now the next chapter--still to be defined.

I took the day off of work today.  I wanted it to be a day to do whatever I wanted to--to go someplace, to stay home, to be open to whatever possibilities moved me at the moment.

I did start my day with a hair appointment.  The practical side of me using my time off productively.  I also had some chores around the house that I wanted to get done (can't waste available time and good weather).

But I also took some time just to relax.  I went to the Quabbin, a place Ed and I used to visit often.  It was a cool, fall day and it was peaceful.  The beauty of the fall leaves as they are beginning to turn.  The cool, crisp autumn air.  The eagle that soars overhead.

I found it was nice just to slow down and enjoy the moment.  There weren't many people there and I had the Observation tower to myself (a rare occurrence).

I made a new friend while there.  He was enjoying the day as well, simply taking a walk.  He lost his wife 4 years ago.  Another widow friend.  Is there a beacon that attracts us to each other?  We talked for a while and exchanged phone numbers and email addresses.  Small world.

The rest of my birthday was doing some work around the house.  I also picked up two bouquets of flowers.  Ed always gave me flowers for my birthday--some at work and some at home.  The red roses I picked up today represent his love for me.  The fall arrangement is similar to the many he gave me over the years when I told him to stop wasting money on roses that would not last.  Our love lasted though.  And the tradition he had of spoiling me I will continue by spoiling myself.

My favorite dinner of acorn squash is in the oven and the single serving of cake and ice cream is waiting as my evening dessert.  The shoes I ordered for myself won't arrive until later this week (poor planning on my part).  But they are my gift to myself.

For although Ed made me happy for more than half of my life and he made me feel special not only on my birthday but everyday, I can either wallow in my grief missing that or learn from it and continue these traditions.  How blessed I was to have him make me happy for so many years.  Now I need to learn to bring happiness into my life myself.

As I look back over my 52 birthdays, I realize there were only 3 when I was "alone".  My first year in college and these last two birthdays since Ed passed.

I have received many cards and wishes from friends and family.  I am loved and I am blessed.  And for that I am grateful.  It has been a good day and I'm learning how to care for myself.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Bluebirds in my yard checking out the bird house.

The bluebirds enjoying the bird bath.  There were about a half dozen of them.

Quabbin Reservoir - Enfield Lookout

Quabbin Reservoir - You can see the center of Belchertown in the distance (if you look close/zoom in).

Reminder

American Greetings and Facebook have sent me emails to remind me that Ed's birthday is coming up.  Don't they know he isn't here to celebrate birthdays with me anymore?  Don't they know I would never forget? I wonder if I can get them to send me reminders of the anniversary of his death.  I won't ever forget that either though.  But thanks for the reminder American Greetings and Facebook.  Great way to start my day (not)...

Some day...

Fall is arriving and I ponder what this means and why I even mention it.  As I face the second fall without Ed, I try to remember what about this season I always enjoyed and try to find that enjoyment once again.  I know part of it was that it was my birthday followed closely by Ed's birthday and so we would use this as our opportunity to fit in some fun day trips--to the Big E, to a local winery, to Mike's Maze--taking in the last days of good weather before we hunkered down for the winter.

Last week I decided I was going to the Belchertown Parade and Fair.  I've always enjoyed going...even if it was to walk around for just an hour.  So I made up my mind that I was going to go.  I did reach out to a friend from church asking if her and her family were going to the parade.  Well, I ended up joining them walking in the parade instead of sitting watching it.  We walked with the Knights of Columbus to collect donations and hand out tootsie rolls.  It was fun to do this with the kids--they certainly attracted donations much more than I did!  I then spent time with my friend and her family having lunch at the fair and looking at the animals.  So much fun to see the fair through the eyes of her grandchildren.  And I can even admit that I had a good time!  I am also planning to go to the Big E this year.

My point is that I'm testing the waters and returning to activities that I found pleasure in previously and that I have such fond memories of.  I try to judge whether to go alone or to go with a friend.  I'm not afraid of going alone.  I know my expectations of achieving my previous happiness is hard to achieve--Ed and I were so darn compatible that when we went to these places, we were in perfect sync in terms of how much time to spend, where to go, what we wanted to eat, etc.  So I set my expectations low and just go with it and see what happens and then learn from that.

Some things in life are becoming more natural but grief still comes and hits me when I least expect it.  I think of Ed constantly and I still question why he left me and whether I did and said the right things.  And the reasonable side of me recognizes that he did not have a choice.  And that even though I told him it was okay to leave, I know he knew I would have kept him here with me forever if that was a choice.  He was just so brave and even on his death bed, worried about me and took care of me.  And that is what I miss most.  My protector, my confidante, my soul mate, who always put me first.  I was so lucky; we were so lucky.  And I think that is why it still hurts so much.

I know there are so many things I need to be thankful for and that there are so many who have it worse.  And although it gives me perspective, it doesn't necessarily ease the pain.  Even as I write this, I remind myself that I said my goal for this 2nd year without Ed is to learn more about myself, as an individual, not as part of another half.  Because I went from being a daughter to being a wife.  But now it's figuring out who I am as an individual.

I have made it through another summer alone.  The yard was tended to, flowers were planted, and a garden came and went.  I used gas-powered mowers and trimmers and blowers and power washers without even thinking twice.  And now I'm preparing our home for another winter.  Some are dreading the winter; last winter they say was the worse and now this winter is predicted to be the same or worse.  How can it be worse?  While in a fog in the depths of grief, I made it through last winter.  There was so much I didn't know and learned.  I hope I'm stronger this year; I think I'm stronger this year. So I'm less fearful of a bad winter.  But life still surprises me and we'll see.  I can only hope.

Am I perfect?  Absolutely not?  Do I have it all down to a science?  Nope.  Do I wish Ed was still here?  Absolutely!  But I'm functioning and, dare I say, succeeding?  I go to work every day.  I'm trying to take care of myself by eating right (even cooking!) and exercising.  The house is still standing and being maintained.  And I work hard to maintain relationships with family and friends.

Someday this new life will become routine and it won't be newsworthy in a blog.  Some day....

I have gone on a couple bike rides after work on the bike path to the CT river.
 A good way to end the workday and get some fresh air (and exercise).  One of those things I'm okay "doing alone"
although I had more fun the weekend Dan and I went on a bike ride together!

New fall flowers for Ed's grave.
I wonder if there will be a time when I'll be less attentive to maintaining his grave (and I fear that).

Sunshine

What a difference a few days make.  I just got home from a terrific overnight with Dan.  Yesterday we went to Nate's to have dinner and visit with his family.  We had a great time and I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Nate's parents.  On top of the welcoming company, they also prepared a great meal.  I'm sure we could have stayed much longer, but it was getting late so we had to regretfully leave.  But I smile as I recall the evening and even wished we lived closer so we could get together more often.  The conversation was easy and the company was comfortable.

I found out last night that Nate almost didn't go to Roger Williams...for some reason he delayed accepting at another school and then, during those few days, everything fell into place with Roger Williams.  And this reminds me again how one small decision can change the path our lives take.  If Nate didn't wait, if he didn't go to Roger Williams, then Dan and him would never have met and our families would not have gotten to know each other.  I feel truly blessed to know their family because they are what I like to call "good people".  So I'm thankful God guided us so that our paths could cross.  I'm confident Dan and Nate will be life-long friends and our families will remain in touch for many years to come.

So now I am back home and the laundry is in and I need to go out and mow (never ending).  But we got much needed rain yesterday and there's a cloudless blue sky today.  And I had a great day and weekend, and so I'll pause and take a moment to be grateful and relish this moment.  Because my days are not always filled with grief and sadness.  Every so often, the sun does shine through.

Times Does Not Heal All Wounds

The emptiness fills my soul.  The sadness fills my body.  Work is a distraction that keeps my mind busy.  But as I sit here at home, I look around at those things that were his, that were ours, and I struggle to grasp whether he was really here.  The physical reminders that he existed are all around...in his clothes, in his workshop, in the things that he bought for our home.  These are all evidence that he was here.  But how can he really be gone?  As I closed the door last night as I headed to bed, I'm reminded he hung that door.  It is physical proof he was here.  So how can he be gone?  How can I be here all alone?

And as time passes, I realize that there are now things in my life that Ed was not here to be part of.  Stupid things like doing Zumba or my Fitbit or a new TV show I enjoy watching.  Or the new people in my life who I've met through our common grief.  They are all evidence that Ed is not here with me to share things with and that time continues to march on without him.  For over 30 years I shared everything with him--from the littlest of things to the grandest--and now he is not here to share anything with and that breaks my heart.

Joy no longer fills this house or my heart.  And it hurts too much and it's difficult to breath.  I want to reach out and touch him.  I want to hear his voice.  But none of this exists.  Was it real or was it all just a dream?  The evidence of his existence is this house, is the love he filled it with, and I have pictures to prove he lived.  Dan is living and breathing evidence that he existed.  So why when I look at his things and photos of him, there is a hollowness that hurts so bad.  I beg him to show me a sign he is still with me, to come to me in a dream. But it doesn't come.  My soul is empty and I am engulfed in sadness.  The pain is deep and time is not healing these wounds.