Two days until two years. I’m not okay and am starting to panic. I’ve only made it two years alone and it feels like there are way too many empty years to go. 43 years old was way too young for Jason to die…and way too young to become a widow.
I’m trying to figure out who I am…again. Find some joy in life…again. I bought a Ford Bronco 10 days ago. A move some applauded, some judged, some implied I was crazy…mid-life crises…whatever…whatever. Truth of the matter is that I fell in love with driving with the wind in my hair years ago when Jason surprised me by renting a Mustang convertible when we were in California for one of his Nationals tournaments. I don’t think he even got to drive it…I was having too much fun. Convertibles in MN are not the most practical, so my dream quickly became to get a Jeep Wrangler. But then I was talking to a friend and he got me thinking about a Bronco. Levi and did research…test drove one….fell in love. Thought I was a Jeep Girl…nope…Bronco Babe. The fact of the matter is that I don’t have to defend my choice to anyone….but my Bronco helps me feel a little badass…less trampled by life…and makes me excited to get out and about. Those things are worth it to me.
I also decided to stop just thinking about taking a poetry class and actually do it. So last week I starting a 6 week long Introduction to Poetry class through The Loft. It is online every Monday from 6-8pm. I love it so much. It is a beginner class…so more talking about poetic form and structure than writing poetry…but it is exercising parts of my brain that have gone stagnant. It is so amazing to discover what really gifted poets can do with their poetry. How they can convey such emotion with such simple words. It’s very inspiring…and humbling.
I’m trying. I’m learning to be present in happy moments, even when I’m sad at my core. I was in Wausau this past weekend and had a really good time with my besties from high school and getting together with some family for my niece’s baptism. I was there. I truly enjoyed those things. And then I got home and was just DONE.
And now this week. 2 years ago this was “hospice week”. I feel like I am at war with myself. Like my mind wants to keep going back there, but my heart is in too much pain. And I just can’t deal. I tried to escape into a book tonight…and literally the first chapter of the book…the wife is by her husband’s bedside waiting for him to breathe his last breath. No. No. No.
Last night I didn’t sleep much. I think it was 2am and I was still awake…writing poetry
Without He left me Broke his vow Forever He left me Still loved me Couldn’t stay He left me Couldn’t fight it Terminal He left me More each day Unstoppable He left me Breath ceased Heartbreak He left me Who am I? Stranger He left me What remains? Loneliness
Love, Tennis, and Cancer 