December 27

6 months ago today.

Our last hello and our last goodbye.

The end of us,

the beginning of just me.

The Chair

The Chair

You should be sitting in that chair,

your cup of coffee in hand,

smiling at the antics of the birds,
announcing the coming of the neighbors' cat.

You should be,

but you're not.

I should be sitting here with you,

commenting on the day ahead,

filling you in with our plans.

I should be,

but I can't.

Now my coffee grows cold

while I get lost 

somewhere between those birds

scrambling for seed

and my heart

facing the future

without you.

You should be sitting in that chair.

Everything would be better.

So much better.

Single Woman Humor or Where's Bob When I Need Him?

     I am reminded often that living alone has its dilemmas, as well as advantages.  This morning, I experienced one of those dilemmas.  As I was getting dressed, the clasp on my bracelet--the one made with Bob's wedding ring--found a stray stitch on my underwear, in the back, and refused to let go.  Effectively, my right arm was, more-or-less, handcuffed to my backside.  Eventually, I managed to undo the clasp and my right arm's confinement, freeing myself and the bracelet again--but not before having to wonder who I could call to come release me from the grasp of my underwear!!

The Ornament

The Ornament

“First Christmas Together”
the wooden, red-tasseled circle reminds
from its perch on the tree.
“1985.”
My fingers savor the smooth grain
and my heart is transported in memory.
Our “engagement ring”
we called the ornament
with a woven heart at its center.
That December,
Rome had “dispensed” me 
from my vows,
gifting both of us with freedom
to proclaim our love.
That Christmas season,
you dispatched a scrawny pine
from its place on our property.
You were laughing as you dragged it indoors,
your eyes twinkling, your smile broad.
You transformed that pine sapling
when you strung it with lights
and added the blue glass ornaments.
We sat in the descending darkness
holding hands, 
enjoying the lights, the tree,
our first Christmas together--
dreaming of our future.

Thirty-two years later,
my first Christmas without you, 
our “engagement ring”
stirs this sweet memory 
of the beginning of “Us.”

I hold the memory close
and in it, you are here
again.

                      December 12, 2017

Christmas Conundrum

     In early November I happened to spot a good deal on boxed Christmas cards and purchased them on the spot since I found some I liked.  I put them away when I got home and didn't think about them again.  A week ago, when I got down my box of Christmas wrapping for the first time, I discovered I had already bought a supply of cards--probably at the end of last Christmas season.  While they looked a bit familiar, I really couldn't recall having bought them.  Then, as I continued to look through the box, I discovered at least 20 cards (I didn't actually count them) that I had addressed but never wrote nor sent.  These included some addressed to family members and close friends.  I don't have any explanation for why these never got sent, nor do I know in what year I neglected to finish these.  Was it last year?  And if so, what was going on that led to this incompleteness?  If it were THIS year, I would certainly think it was related to the loss of Bob and my lack of desire to write cards--but that is not the case.  I am actually about to begin my cards later this evening.
     So was life more hectic, was I more frazzled than I recall in one of the last couple of Christmas seasons?  I know that Bob was in the hospital in December of 2014--was that the year I didn't finish this project?  At this point, it certainly doesn't really matter, although I have been mildly bothered by my lack of any memory of how this could have happened.  One friend laughingly remarked that this is how "old folks" end up with lots of unused, unneeded items in their homes which their families may discover when helping them move or cleaning out their homes after they've died.  At any rate, my heartfelt apologies to any family or friends who didn't receive our card some recent Christmas.  I have written on the November and December pages in my 2018 calendar:  DO NOT buy Christmas cards!  Hopefully, that will help, come this time next year.

First Christmas

     It's Christmas time again; this year we celebrate for the first time without Bob.  It's time for me to write Christmas cards, and there are a number of people on our list, mostly his friends, who have not yet heard of his death.  In order not to have to write about it over and over, I have made an insert for their cards.  This is the insert:

(The photos in the insert run across the top of the page, but I can't figure out how to do that here.)

Christmas 2017.  Our first without our beloved Bob, Dad, Grandpa.  He entered hospice in March and died June 27 with all of us surrounding him.  After struggling with Alzheimer's disease at least six years, he is at peace.

The photos above are of his last birthday with us, #81, in November 2016; his last Christmas with us; and our last photo together at home in May of this year.