Fear

In the previous post I noted many emotions.  I did not forget to list fear it simply had not reared its ugly head, that is, until last night.  

I had a great day, accomplished much.  I was busy until bedtime.  As we all have a bedtime routine, I set about mine.  I very much enjoy crawling into bed, under our cosy down quilt.  I have my pillow, Ron's pillow and I feel very comforted.  I have been sleeping very well throughout this whole ordeal.  

Ron and I cherished our bedroom space - not for the reasons you might be thinking.  Our little tiny boat cabin was our sanctuary from all that challenged us.  We were always warm and cozy, tranquil you might say.  It was here we would laugh, snuggle, hold on tight and be thankful for each other.  We had fun in our space.  Ron never knew whether it was a good thing  or not that I laughed so much in the bedroom.  We were happy - we were beyond happy.

You might go so far as to imagine that when I slip under the covers that I am being embraced by all that is loving.  It brings me a sense of solace.  It is where I can vividly imagine Ron's arms around me or mine around him.  I remember how would wiggle and snuggle into a tight fused like position feeling loved, safe, happy, content, trusted and respected.  There are often times that one would say to the other that we just cannot get close enough.  And we would wiggle a little  more just to see if we could get a bit closer.  Soon after we would drift into our own dream filled sleep.

Last night as I snuggled down I tried to hear Ron's voice, his chuckle and his out loud laugh.  Where these notions come from I cannot say.  They just pop into my head.  His voice did not come to me.  The more intense my focus with no results, the more anxious I became.  I was devoured by overwhelming fear that I would forget; forget Ron's voice, forget his laugh, forget his touch, forget, forget, forget.  

I found myself getting out of bed and heading to the computer.  Picture after picture his voice did not come.   

What kind of wife can I be?  Folder after folder of pictures, I came across old video clips.  It was there I found his voice, his sweet loving voice that I was desperate to hear.  It is all coming back: his laugh, his bad french accent he would use telling a joke.  I can hear him say, as if he were standing in front of me holding both my hand and looking me in the eye, "Have I told you today how much I love you?  Well, it's true, I do."  


  

Brazen Avoidance

It is true.  I have been avoiding my own blog.  I can come up with excuse after excuse however, it boils down to one very painful reason - acknowledgment.  By going forward with this blog, I have to acknowledge a life going forward without Ron.  To best describe that feeling I am obliged to use words anguish, pain, agony, sorrow, joyless and grief. 

These words do not mean that I am in deep depression.  It simply means that I feel these emotions very deeply.  Sometimes I feel my body contorting as it is consumed by emotion.  At times I feel emotion rising from within,  other times it comes out of the blue.   Often it is uncontrollable.  Other times the emotion is short lived.  


It also does not mean that I have not smiled or laughed.  I have.  My kids and my friends have been truly supportive.  Never under estimate the power of a hug, the true meaning of a short phone call, email or text or the delight of an invite.


To quote the Norwegian proverb, "One wave at a time."  I will overcome.

What I Didn't Know

I did not know that when Ron passed that I would become a family counselor, an event planner, an office manager, a financial planner and so on and so on. 

My husband, my Ron had created a folder for me.  It contained detailed contact information for his employer, forms that he completed as much as he could, and a list of requests for me to complete on his behalf.  I, frankly, have had it up to my eyeballs with forms and paperwork.  Some of the people I have had to deal with have been extremely understanding and some have been less than compassionate.  For the less than compassionate I am sure whatever they are doing and need to say, it is all in a day's work.  Perhaps they are being officious and efficient.  I can tell you, I am extremely grateful for those who have taken a moment to give condolences and offer to work with me to get the job done right. 

I did not know how  tough it was going to be to go from bank to bank to remove Ron's name from our accounts.  Or to receive mail that now bares my name only where it used to have both.  I did not know how tough it would be to function to get through the day.  I did not know that I would be still living in disbelief. 

There are times where I have felt completely angry because it was evident to me that I was wiping his existence from this earth; that he has gone from being my husband, a father and friend to a statistic.  It just did not feel right in my heart.  It still doesn't. 

I did not know the agony I would be going through even though we knew Ron's cancer was going to end his life. 

I did not know how foolish I was to think this would be easier than it is.

Ha Makai

A fresh new start.  Ha - the breath of life.  Makai - toward the sea.  I feel that these Hawaiian words capture the essence where I am in life since the death of my husband, my friend Ronald Harris.

 Ron's physical being was transferred to the spiritual being off Diamond Head  Oahu, Hawaii on March 7, 2011.  His ashes - also known as - pixie dust were sprinkled into the warm ocean waters at sunset.  A beautiful, stunning and appropriate close for a loving and romantic man.  I feel it appropriate and fitting to begin life with my spiritual Ron with a touch of Hawaii. 

For those of you not aware, Ron and I lived aboard a 45' sailboat.  While Ron is no longer with me, I continue to live aboard.  I intend to become a competent single handed sailor - which means I have to out think situations before they happen.  In my blog, I will share my thoughts, feelings, trials and tribulations of my unwanted transition.  As unwanted as it may be, it is the way it is and I must find a way to make the best of life without Ron to physically help me, to encourage me, and to support me.  He was, without a shadow of a doubt, the best husband a woman could ever want.

A breath of life is withinn me and my direction is without a doubt toward the sea.