I finally slept well last night, and got a nap in today, too. So I feel much more human tonight. Today I opened the windows, did housework, washed sheets, cooked dinner in the crock pot, and got my on-line account with Express Scripts straightened out. There are always glitches when you switch to COBRA.
I realized something about this job that I'm interviewing for, another way it would be good for me. There's a little part of me that doesn't realize that your being gone is permanent. Part of that is because for three months you were in the hospital - you weren't here but you weren't gone, and it was supposed to be temporary. And part is because everything in my life is the same, except that you're not here. This job would be something new in my life, something that wasn't in my life while you were here. I think it would be a demarcation, something to let me know that this is my life now, that my old life is gone and things have changed, and that life will never go back to the way it was before.
I hope that makes some sense. I'll try to nail it to the wall a bit better - if successful, I'll explain it again later. For now, that's the best I can do. But you usually understand me better than I understand myself. That is, you do unless it's something about women that men don't ever understand. I don't think this is gender-specific. It's widow-specific, this sense of the surreal, that none of this can possibly be happening. Living without half of yourself doesn't seem possible as a concept, and doesn't feel possible as an experience.
I'm making it muddier instead of clearer, aren't I? I'll go to bed now and stop confusing you. I guess I can't explain what I don't understand, can I? When Jen and I were leaving the hospital after you died, she asked me what I was going to need. I said, "I have no idea. I haven't done this before." I'm still doing something I've never done before, and I always will be. It's a good thing there's not a quiz, isn't it?
I love you, I adore you, and I worship the ground you walk on. You may have noticed that.