Easter Time is Coming

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Cadbury Eggs
Thanks to Svadilfari at Flickr

This morning I ran into Acme, our  local grocery store, to pick up some produce to go with my hummus dip.  Nothing too earth-shattering about that.

However, there’s a huge display of Easter candy in the front of the store. As I trot past, I think, “I better pick up some Cadbury eggs before they run out.” And then, “Oh. I wonder if Nick likes Cadbury Eggs as much as Dave did.” Because of course it no longer matters that I might not have them for Dave’s Easter Basket.

One year I didn’t buy the eggs early and then had to run all over town trying to buy Cadbury Eggs. I was left with the inferior caramel version.

All of this runs through my head and I feel such sorrow. It seems that this grief is never going to end. There’s always one more piece of glass being jammed into my heart.

Of course, I go on, buy my produce, and go off to the meeting that I’m now late for. And my day goes on.

I may go back and buy those eggs and give a couple to Nick and save a couple for myself and just eat them in memory of Dave’s Easter baskets.

Speaking of Beds…

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My husband died over 6 months ago and I still sleep exactly on my side of the bed. The other night the two dogs were sleeping on my side of the bed when I came to lie down. I decided ok, I can get in on the other side–talk about major decisions! As soon as they moved, though, back to my side I went.

Dave’s alarm clock is flashing because we lost power some time months ago and I’ve never fixed it. Apparently I want to ignore that whole side of the bedroom.

OK, I confess that I have not put his giant pile of pillows on his side. I felt pretty rebellious in doing that. There are TWO pillows there now–a much more manageable amount than the five or six pillows that he insisted on having.

We spent a lot of time fussing over pillows, it seems to me. I had to have MY pillows–no touching allowed. He had to have this giant stack of pillows. Now nobody cares about my pillows except for me and it’s hard to get too excited about them when nobody’s grabbing my pillow by mistake.

One time I yanked my pillow out from under Dave’s head while he was sleeping. He didn’t appreciate that. Boy, the things you miss.

Pillows

 

 

Nessie and Nunu Need Love Too

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My two dogs, Nessie and Nunu, now have to hang out with me though they like my son too. They both loved Dave a lot–Nunu was Dave’s dog but nobody had told Nessie that. She thought she was Dave’s dog too.

For several months after Dave’s death,  when I would say it was time to go to bed, the dogs would come upstairs with me. Nunu, though, would always stop at the room where Dave’s hospital bed had been, stick her head in and look around, determine he wasn’t there, and come upstairs with me. I said this dog is breaking my heart.

I guess they’re adjusting. Both dogs now sleep with me. Well, Nunu takes up two-thirds of the bed and I get the rest. Nessie sleeps on a dog bed by Dave’s side of the bed.

That’s the only difference really about the dogs’ sleeping arrangement. Nunu would not have enough space when both Dave and I were sleeping so she’d start on the bed and then move to the floor to spread out. Now she just spreads out on the bed.

We’re all just making our way along as best we can.

Grief Catches You at Odd Times

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I never know when I’m going to miss Dave. The smallest things can cause me to feel so sad and lonely.

The other day I went to a yoga class. I haven’t been to yoga for a while but I used to go regularly. So, while I’m supposed to be meditating and labeling thoughts as “thoughts,” my mind instantly began to roam.

I thought about how I used to go to a Sunday morning class and Dave would wake me if I slept too late to make it on time. I loved the original teacher for that class. She touched me one time and I started to cry. Why? I can’t remember. I know it was summer. Hmmm, it was when I’d just lost my job and I was very stressed…My first yoga instructor was Susan and she used to work with Dave at Roadway. I went to her first few classes when she was learning how to be a yoga instructor. Then she quit her job and taught yoga full time. I helped her get a job at the local YMCA and I went to her classes there. I always enjoyed her.

And remembering Susan and remembering Dave calling to me on Sunday morning, I was overwhelmed with grief. Then I recalled that I was supposed to be meditating and said, “thought!” to myself.

Maybe it’s not surprising that grief comes when I’m relaxed and clearing my mind. It’s only surprising to me because I’m so rarely relaxed with a clear mind.