Thursday, March 5, 2015

Aftershocks & Early Blogging

Dear John,
 
I'm having an aftershock. I really think it's the change of the seasons. I was so miserable last night that I didn't feel like talking, even to you. I just wanted to curl up in your arms, safe and warm, and cry myself to sleep. Instead, I went to sleep with Hunter on my ribs, Abby at my feet, Maggie in the small of my back, and Jethro's big head laid on top of mine. It's warm and furry and loving, but it isn't quite the same thing.
 
So tonight I've reverted to something I did the first year. I'm blogging earlier in the evening. Missing you still gets worse as the day gets later. I handle things better in the living room and before 8:00. It's always good to know your limits.
 
I was off today. I ran some errands downtown and took Hunter for his yearly check-up. He's fine, weighs 13 pounds, and meets with June's hearty approval. He cried for the first couple of miles in the car and was fine after that. At the office he stayed pressed right up against me, but cooperated with everything including the rectal thermometer. I had planned to vacuum when I got home, but changed my mind when I saw that he wanted to cuddle up and recover. So I've had a lap full of Hunter all day, and a good time was had by all.
 
June said his muscle tone is surprisingly good. I wasn't surprised, considering the way they all rampage around the house and wrestle with each other. It's playful wrestling, just for fun - no claws or teeth, but lots of noise and thumping, and evidently a good deal of exercise. They keep each other in shape. And they give me lots of love and companionship, even if it's not like curling up in your arms. It also isn't like lying down alone in a cold bed. I'm thankful for them.
 
We'll all be happy to make room for you tonight, so come if you can. I could use a hug from you and your wonderful long arms. I'd love to put my head under your chin and breathe in your smell. If this aftershock lasts until the next anniversary of your death, which has been my annual pattern so far, I have almost six more weeks of this. It must be because I saw your shadow! But who needs to bring groundhogs into this?
 
Love you more than groundhogs,
Joan.
 


No comments:

Post a Comment