Three Steps Forward, Two Steps Back. . .

This has been a different sort of week. It has been busy, up and down emotionally, and exhausting. The past has been colliding with the present bringing with it comfort and longing. When I got out of the car this morning I was greeted with the sound of lawn mowers and that wonderful scent of freshly mowed grass.Immediately I was transported back to the little town in Kentucky we lived in when I was a teen. I normally move on with my day but since I didn't have anything to distract me I thought about childhood friends, things I used to do, the music that I listened to for hours on end. I thought about my parents . . . I find it hard to believe that dad died 18 years ago next month and that mom died over 7 years ago now. Most days that just feels like another lifetime to me.

Somehow I got an infected nail bed on my right middle finger, causing a lot of pain and finally made me go see my doctor. Medication was prescribed with the warning to watch it carefully because if the infection got to the bone they may have to remove my finger. As I lay in bed Wednesday night, unable to sleep because of the throbbing pain, I felt the loneliness of being on my own. I missed the way Ray always babied me whenever anything was wrong. I tried to think about what he would probably say and for the first time since his death, I couldn't remember the sound of his voice. That has haunted me for the rest of the week because I still can't remember. And I desperately want to remember. When I finally got to sleep it was a restless sleep. Around 4:00 a.m. I woke up with a start, feeling very funny. It took me a minute to realize that I was having an insulin reaction. As I walked to the kitchen on very unsteady legs and attempted to cut myself some cheese slices with shaking hands, again I felt the emptiness that his not being here has left with me. He always woke up before I did when I was having a low during the night and would wake me up. He'd fix whatever I needed and we would sit and talk while we waited to make sure that I had treated it sufficiently. My thoughts have traveled back to the early days of our marriage, how exciting it was and how broke we were. Then in later years dealing with the infertility and the disappointment that brought. Then the period of time when we decided to hell with it and we concentrated on building a life for the two of us and ourselves individually. We both went back to school and we did a lot of things that we had been putting off in the attempt to have a family. The phone call I got from him while he was in Nashville on yet another business trip, telling me that he was being transferred from New Orleans to Nashville - a transfer we had prayed for a long time to happen. The time just seemed to fly by. I've wondered all week about where did the years go? Now I'm on a different path - single, raising the daughter that we waited for so long. Some days I feel strong and thankful that we're doing so well. Other days it hits again like a ton of bricks that he is gone and he's not coming back. It's at those times that I find I have a hard time breathing. How can you miss someone so damn much and still keep going? This has been a lonely week. I have felt the loneliness acutely since Leah's birthday. So, this week I have tried to stay busy. I threw myself into work and got a lot of things done. I studied and took 3 unit exams today and made a 100% on all three of them. The usual is 1 unit exam per week. Now I'm studying for my final and then will sit for the vendor exam. This will complete my web design/development courses and certifications. I'm not sure what I'll take next. I can take as many classes as I can fit in during the next nine months.

This entire week I have felt the longing to connect with something from my past. Someone or something that would help me to remember who I am. Someone who cares how my day went. I never realized how great the need is to have someone who truly knows us and loves us - just as we are. I was very fortunate as Ray was one who did that very well. Perfect he wasn't - in fact he could drive me up the wall and did on many occasion - but he was there for me. I miss that. I miss him.

OK, it is obviously after midnight as I only bare my soul after that bewitching hour. Writing it out helps me to sort it out and deal with it. This blog is my therapy. Every time I write an entry like this one I'm saving myself $110 an hour. I know because I've knelt at the altar of psychotherapy. I don't regret it but I'm glad that writing it out is just as therapeutic for me.

I'm going to do something fun this weekend.