Today is the 35th day since my husband died. It feels more like 35 weeks. Most days I handle things pretty well. I go to work, come home, walk the dog, fix and eat supper, and putter around the house doing little chores or reading or watching television until it is time to go to bed. Weekends haven’t been too bad, mostly because there has been someone around every weekend. Until this one.
This weekend wasn’t all bad. One of Chad’s cousins got married yesterday and, of course, we were invited to the wedding. I realized early on that there was no way I would be able to handle the ceremony, so I skipped that part. But I did go to the dance last night. And for the most part, it was fun. I got to catch up with some people, hugged a lot more, and just tried to enjoy being social. There were quite a few people who wanted to chat about how I’m doing (big surprise, huh?) which was nice because I know the girls at work get tired of hearing about it all of the time.
It wasn’t all fun, though. Obviously, I didn’t dance – not much anyway. And definitely not to any slow songs. But I did learn something. I never realized it was possible to feel so alone in a dancehall full of people – people I know and care about and who know and care about me.
Today was worse though. I really was alone all day. I can only talk to myself and my dog so much. I can only watch so much television and can only read for so long. I should start sewing on Christmas gifts, but there are so many memories tied to my quilting hobby that I just can’t bring myself to go back to the sewing machine. The cold weather makes is hard to want to go outside and do anything. Sundays are hard anyway, because they mark the end of another week without Chad and the beginning of the next one. Part of the difficulties also lie in the fact that Sunday was his day off of work – the one day of the week that we worked around the house together, watched the NASCAR race, and just got to enjoy each other’s company for the entire day. I’m beginning to hate Sundays. Monday is a welcome relief because of the distraction of work.
I think it’s going to be a very long winter.