FullaBella's Journal, 28 November 2013

Thanksgiving Evening. I'm curled up in Cutty's chair with Mushy and reflecting on the day. But let's do the food part first: nine people here but I made enough food for fifty. And it's all gone - taken home by others. I saved enough to share one more meal with Mushy but that's it. I didn't want a fridge or freezer full of leftovers.

The food in the house is overwhelming me. Not in a 'I want to eat it all' way but in a 'I'll never eat this food' way. Cutty always took great comfort in seeing the pantry (measuring 10x10x4) full of food. As I try to eat as fresh as possible I rarely ever use any food from the pantry for myself outside of the canned tomatoes . I am fighting the urge to box it up and give to the kids or a food shelter. Two rack of lambs in the freezer. I'll eat those. Frozen breaded fish - nope.

After submitting my journal this morning I decided to move on to a few 'chores' including changing the bedroom linens. That's when I lost it. I could still smell him on his pillow. I began sobbing. That progressed to a deep painful howling. I started pacing and left the bedroom and went to check the turkey.

More howling as I remembered how he always cooked the Turkey before he got sick. Cutty was a heck of a cook and I can still remember him setting with the chef down in New Orleans getting his recipe for the embrochet. I was angry. I felt cheated out of good years with him.

But the lyrics of the song I'd shared in my journal earlier were still running through my head and I began humming. I brought music from my studio into the kitchen and played the song for real and began dancing and singing, imagining him with me. Back in the day before he became unable to operate more than a TV remote he ran the show. He would have the music on in the kitchen as he cooked and we would dance.

So I began dancing. Around and around imagining him with me. I danced so long and hard I actually got my sweat on.

His daughter had been hinting that she wanted one of his rings. He'd given one to each grandson when he was alive. I went through his jewelry and picked out the ring I gave him for his birthday the first year we married. Story time.

Cutty was notorious for spoiling my surprises. I obviously telegraph or talk in my sleep. He'd mentioned ONCE that he wanted a certain type ring while we were dating and I bought it a week before his birthday. I wrapped it and put it in the pocket of a 'new robe'. In my mind I imagined him giving me a forced 'oh, a robe, thank you' and then finding the ring when he stuck his hands in the pockets. The wrapped box was my equivalent of the Trojan Horse.

Two days before his birthday the statement from the jewelry store came in but the ring charge hadn't recorded yet as I'd timed it that way. He looked at the bill and saw the available credit and said 'I think I'll go get that ring I want for my birthday.'

I couldn't believe it. No way I could wait or stall - otherwise, he'd think I only went and got the ring because he brought it up. So I tossed the wrapped box at him and said 'happy early Birthday'.

My stepdaughter was expected to come over about 10am to help me in the kitchen - I phoned her at 8am and said 'it's not an emergency, but I need you to come over here for a few minutes. Pajama's are okay, no one's here, but please come now.'

Yesterday, after the final viewing at the funeral home, I went to a department store to walk around for a few minutes. Again, so odd not worrying that he's home alone and needing me. I bought two china coffee cups with beautiful flowers and butterflies on them and two pair of 'silly toe socks'. I called my step daughter over and made her pick one of the hands behind my back. She was crying and I said 'nope, time to wear silly socks, relax, laugh and drink hot chocolate'. I also made bacon quesadilla's for us and we just lounged in the recliners - after I unplugged the phone.

When I slid the ring on her finger she started crying. I turned on the music and told her 'we're gonna dance with Dad now.' She remembered those days. We danced for another half an hour - spinning and turning, twisting and leaping. When my grandson's came over we danced again. At one point one said 'it's hot in here' and then stopped in surprise. Cutty kept it so cold in here for the past two years to help him breathe we all ran around in warmer clothes and bundled in blankets. My legs are sore this evening. I bet I'll be feeling this tomorrow.

I ate so mindfully during the meal it was if EWYL was guiding the fork. I picked out the foods I wanted and even had half a slice of pecan pie. I ate slow, did not over eat, and felt satisfied. Such a change from last Thanksgiving when I sweated every calorie, decided this was one day to 'over indulge' and spent the evening sick and uncomfortable both physically and emotionally.

I still forget he's really gone. I still think he's just in the hospital and I'll move something thinking 'oh, he's going to hate that.' When he was still walking it was with great exhausting effort so he was most comfortable with very little furniture around. He also wanted very little light in here. So dark, so barren for so long.

I've added a chair from the upstairs bedroom and have two more lamps illuminating. It's bright and looks like a home ready for company. I keep thinking 'I wonder what he'll say when he comes home.'

One day at a time, right?

Bella