I posted this on r/widowers today. I knew I had to get the bed cleared off so I could get the suitcases down. That meant all the paperwork and lists I was ignoring in the cat bed got sorted. Some got tossed or shredded, some filed, some addressed and taken care of. I need to fax a death certificate to the DMV. This makes me unreasonably sad, but not enough for me to lose it. We shall see.
What witchcraft is this? I am not sure, but this day ... I am lonely, I've wept and teared up a number of times, I talked to his photo a few times, I miss him and am distraught. Nothing new, except this tiny lessening of ... anguish? A lifting of the edge of the blanket of horror? Feeling a little less gutted? I'd almost dare call it a return to ... something not a nightmare. Not happiness or optimism, but not so crushed. A fraction less broken. I haven't got a clue. It is Mom's birthday, she passed in 2005, so I've been thinking about her too. More sunshine and warmer temperatures? In the 50s, chilly, but not freezing. I got three of MyLarry's drawers emptied, but didn't wail over his shirts. Moped is more like it. Yesterday I got the suitcases down and sorted. I didn't lose it hard over his Santa Suit bag, which was a surprise, because Santa Rampage in Vegas is a cherished ritual for us. I got leaky, but it didn't knock me out. My bags are initially packed for the anniversary trip next week. There's a minefield; we had a lovely trip to Cancun in 2012 and I booked this trip last year. I'm anxious. I don't want to cry on the plane. But the dread is pretty well balanced with anticipation. Again, I'm surprised.
I met my future new kittens which are being fostered by my neighbor today. Came home and told the surrogate stuffed animal on his pillow all about the itty bitty house panther and the tiny tux. Maybe that's it. Kittens.
I do not trust this uptick in the slightest. And I'm still broken; I sat and watched hours of Third Rock from the Sun. And that's okay.
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