Swimming, Adulting and Crawfish.
- Walker, Texas Ranger
- When Melissa would go out of town (flight attendant), I'd get far more shit done than when she was in town. This hasn't changed with her flight to heaven. I get up earlier, I'm not on her schedule, and nobody else was going to do it. She'd bargain hunt, get her Rakuten points, and wanted to do things together; which was fine, but took longer. Now I don't wait for her to get up (or get back from runs/work-out) for errands, just need -> do! Meal is microwave, snarf, throw away plastic. Guys hunt and kill the first thing they see then move on. This isn't always better, just different. I miss being frustrated while she's trying to decide between two different values that don't matter a lick to me, or getting distracted by something that's the perfect gift for someone's birthday that I won't remember.
- Thus I bought new Swimsuits (the form-fitting swim-shorts swimmers wear that are more modest than a speedo but still let everyone know that you're circumcised. (Bike shorts without the padding). Amazon had my old order from 3 years ago; buy two. They came, I put one on Saturday and went to my swim. 3 years ago I'd lost 50 lbs, and Melissa food sabotaged me until I'd slowly put much of that weight back on. These were double-re-inforced super-spanks that were so snug I couldn't pee in the pool because everything was pretty kinked up and choked off. I didn't need to worry about people seeing my junk, because this pretty much forced it all underneath or inside; I could work a fat-tranny bar. My cousin said to wear board shorts, but swimmers don't do board shorts... the dumb ones just wear smalls and hope they stretch (or I shrink). They're aspirational, and I have no modesty, so who cares? But I did have to explain to the guys in the locker room that I wasn't self-gratifying afterwards, just trying to get some feeling back in my boy-parts after chinese foot binding trunks.
- I spent part of the day cleaning up (adulting). I cleaned out her Hospital Bags and more of her room; we've got face-leaking, talking to her and cursing. I'm getting her room more prepared for me living in it before guests come for the memorial. But this crying/self-pity bullshit feels too ground-hog day. Woke up, still no wife. Did things, still no wife. It's sunk in, but it's a cut/disappointment every single day.
- Last night was the first night I slept in her bed since she passed. (I did a little when she was in the hospital just to smell her on the sheets and feel closer to her). While cleaning up her hospital clothes, I stupidly smelled her on some, and lost my shit. I skipped NyQuil, so only got 6 hours -- and harder bed (she's back sleeper, I'm side) so I woke a few times. It'll get better.
- I did returns yesterday. Clothes I bought for the Hospital (Walmart), some she'd wanted to return to Academy; she'd haunt me if I wasted the money and didn't get refunds/credit. Both were helpful. Macy's were assholes, "this was for Christmas, you missed the 90 day return Window" (by a couple weeks)... I tried guilting them using the "sorry, my wife was in the hospital and just died last week", "Sorry, store policy". Yeah, fuck you too lady. Melissa would have been proud at my returning skills, or pissed that she could have had me taking things back on my own all these years.
- Melissa sent me a card on grief that arrived yesterday. Melissa (working for American Greetings), often has left over or throw-away cards (or Vickie/neighbor would sometimes share batches that she got at a flea market). Melissa would share extras with friends and family that are card writers. Cousin Trish had gotten a batch and sent me one of the cards on grief that was from Melissa. Nice of Trish. Nice of Melissa. Nice message.
- "Grief never ends, but it changes.
It's a passage, not a place to stay.
Grief is not a sign of weakness, not a lack of faith, it is the price of love."
- A grief friend said that losing his wife made him a better person. I can see that. You start doing more for yourself (and others?), and do things they would do to let their echos live on through you. I aspire to be more considerate, like she was.
- "Grief never ends, but it changes.
- I went to a crawfish boil at a friend (Bo's) house. It was nice getting out and I stayed longer than prior years; I was able to mingle and chat, and didn't bring up my wife inappropriately. Someone asked, and I mentioned she'd passed... while my head is thinking, "...last week". I talked cars with one guy and showed him the Tesla. I talked fligth attending with a long time flight attendant neighbor. I'm not a huge crawfish eater any more (too much work), but it was tasty and spicy and something diferent. I snarfed a few sausage, mushrooms, corn as well. Fun night, but I left by 8:00. A lot of people on the grief forums seem to complain about feeling guilty having fun, and I ask them would their "Lates" have wanted them to have fun? The answer is, "yeah"... but I feel a little of the guilt too. Why am I laughing when she's gone? She would have enjoyed this. And so on. (Do as I say, not as I do). I recognize the voices, and mostly ignore them -- "fake it 'till you make it". It's nice interacting with people.