I’ve written about the moving and changing of homes ad nauseam, so all I will say is, that while it was a difficult move, it was exactly the right move for me. Often people would ask me, "Wasn't so great to remodel this home? Wasn’t it so fun to get to pick out all the new fixtures, appliances, colors, making it my very own?"
Honestly, no, there was nothing fun about any part of this process. I think it is hard to find joy in much of anything during this first year of loss. My decisions were fuzzy, I was fairly nondescript in my choices and none of it seemed of any importance. I was simply going through the necessary motions without Steve by my side to make it a fun experience. I know this is a part of grief and I was fortunate to surround myself with great friends and a contractor who helped me make just the right decisions.
The bad truck I owned for a full 17 days before it cratered.. lesson well learned. As Brooke told me, while I sick to my stomach having made such a horrible purchase. “Mom, it could have been worse. I mean, what if you had spent $5600 and gotten a really bad face lift instead of a really bad truck? Then you would have to go through the rest of your life looking surprised. Be thankful it was just a truck!” I hate it when my children put me in my place.
Our bed, now my bed. For the longest time, I slept only on my side of the bed. I would put pillows, books, stuff, anything on Steve’s side, hoping by doing so, it wouldn’t feel so empty. Today, I find myself sleeping right in the middle of my bed. When did this subtle shift take place?
I think I may have finally grown-up. I will be 60 years old in November and this is the first time in my life that I have lived alone. I have had to face many challenges this year, a multitude of firsts and new normals. I am finding that in almost 12 months I can do most things, I will do many things and I hope to experience many more facets of this life of mine before I’m through.