Today, at 3:05 pm, it will
have been a year since John drew his last breath. As I sit here typing this, I’m
trying very hard not to cry. My eyes are very watery and my nose wants to drip…and,
NO, it’s not COVID. I seriously did not expect to feel this way at this point
in time. I really thought I’d finished grieving.
Maybe that’s why I got
shingles although it’s been weeks since the first symptom showed up, but I have
no idea how my mind and body work when it comes to stress or the lack thereof.
I do know that for the last month or more, I’ve had rather realistic dreams
that include John.
One morning I wasn’t quite
awake and snuggled back down because I could hear John and he’d let the dogs
out. Another time, I was positive I heard him come in the front door. I’ve
heard him talking, walking and a variety of other things, and in some cases, it’s
come as a surprise to realize that it’s not really him, that it can never be
him because he has died. I always feel a sort of pang when I come completely
awake and to that realization.
A year ago when John died,
I really had no idea about what I was going to do with my life. It was all too
new. The idea I was free to make any choice I wanted hadn’t yet arrived in the
forefront of my brain. I managed to get through John’s life celebration, my
first illness without him, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. By the first
of the year, I was beginning to accept and realize there was an entire world
out there for me, myself and I to explore.
Of course, my life (or any
of our lives for that matter) hasn’t exactly moved along the way I expected it
to. That February cruise was to be the first of many fun times traveling hither,
thither and yon. As I’ve written, I expected to have a huge garage sale and
then sell my house. I had just begun to think about what I wanted to live in
and where that would be when the shelter-in-place order came down.
I don’t know what the next
year without John will bring me especially if the pandemic continues and continues
and continues…I do know I’m grateful he’s not alive because of COVID. I know I’ll
continue to miss him, and be lonely because of the pandemic. I’m sure I’ll
continue to dream of him, to hear his voice, doors open and shut when I’m
barely alert, but that’s okay. For those few moments, I don’t feel lonely.
Instead, I feel safe and secure and positive everything will be just fine
because that’s what John always told me…things will be just fine. And I know
they will be, eventually, but I have to admit I don’t feel just fine today.
Today, even though I didn’t expect it, I’m still grieving and missing and wanting.