Stephen King has been gone for two months now. I cannot decide if these have been the longest two months of my life or the shortest. I'm afraid I am not truly aware of time passing, all days seem the same, week upon week. I am not accomplishing much around here, keeping Hank untangled from the deck posts, the boat trailer and the car tires takes up a lot of time. Actually moving his hitch seems way too complicated, so we play this game 14 times a day. Keeps both of us from being lonely, I suppose.
After much coaxing from my sister, I have started sewing abit. A few pillows, some blocks added to a quilt top. I get distracted easily though or bored with the project. I still need silence and I am happiest when home alone. Our kids are in and out and I love that, too. I have joined a Bible Study group with some neighborhood ladies that meets twice a month. It is a great balm to my spirit. I haven't studied The Word so intensely for years and enjoy digging deeper into it. We have great discussions that answer so many questions for me. Each of us has our own burden and sharing lifts them for awhile. We are a mixed group and I think that adds to the benefits, always another view to consider and learn from.
I have been staying with Mom once again, I missed her and didn't realize it. We share another bond in being widows, she says. A club no one wants to join. She continues to have good days and bad. The pain from arthritis increases on these rainy, fall days. She is still aware of family and friends but forgets what occurred five minutes ago. She sits on her nest on the couch for too many hours each day, not interested in moving around or leaving the house. Ice cream is her biggest thrill and she would eat only that if allowed. We have to check with each other when changing shifts, to not overdose her with vanilla cones! Alzheimer's is a terrible thing. Watching a loved one disappear hurts so much.
I don't watch much TV, but have really been reading a lot, especially blogs on the internet. Some are harmless fluff about decorating or quilting, but a few a written by wonderful writers who entertain, inform and give me support. I chat with a lovely, strong lung cancer survivor from Boston and a recent widow from Pennsylvania who feel like family. Linnea and Kate, you will never know how much I look forward to a new post from you. Cancer isn't choosy, it takes from anywhere, any family without discrimination. Connecting online gives us a bigger picture, I believe, it lightens the load to know you are not alone. Of course, it also opens one up for more pain, knowing these sweet people are suffering also. But making that connection is worth the pain for me.
Being a widow seems so foreign to me. I've been Steve's wife for 46 years, since is was just 17 years old. I really don't know how not to be. I have other titles; daughter, mother, sister, grandmother, friend, counselor, but my identity was Steve's wife. He often joked that people only knew him as Hedy's husband. We tend to be identified with our mates after so many years. I feel abit like I am in a government witness protection program, who am I? This feeling is surprising to me, I always considered myself a very independent woman. I prided myself in being strong and smart, able to survive anything. The joke is on me, I'm afraid, maybe I was just strong with him beside me?
My life is certainly not all sadness, please, don't think that. I'm just gloomy today, to match the cool rainy weather. I am going to travel to OZ in the Spring to visit with Courtney and Ken for three months, I cannot believe it yet! Ken's Aunt Edna is my cousin by marriage and she is going along with me, as is her daughter-in-law, Kathy. They will be staying with family while I shall be at Court's new home with her. This is a trip Stephen King and I hoped for long before our daughter moved there. Who doesn't want to see the land down under?
Enough for now, Sweet Ladies. Talk to me. Take care. Hedy