Whoa! Didn't see that coming!

First of all, let me say that I turned my calendar page.  Yay!  Go me.

Next, I have been thinking about all the things that sneak up on me and rattle me when I least expect it.  I think about Terry every.single.day.  Every thing, every place, every decision, every worry, involves me picturing what his opinion would be if he were here.  But, he isn't, and I am the ultimate decision maker about my reactions and decisions.  At least I know I'm still giving him reference.  Though I know, it is futile.

I miss him.

I miss him in a way that no one will ever be able to understand. And, though he is in my thoughts on a daily basis, in the end...it's just me.  And I keep moving.  Keep on without him.

I've been thinking that as the second anniversary of my boyfriend approaches, that I'm doing pretty well.  I've got this.  Time passes.  I should be over this by now.  Nope.  I have discovered that small things happen that show up out of nowhere and shake my soul.

For example:  Last week, we (the girls, their husbands, and children) went to Cafe Rio.  Erika and Tyler are moving to Southern California soon and taking my little darling grand girls.  We keep having "Good bye dinners"!  It's great. We laugh and enjoy food together.  Bask in the cuteness of Eloise and Hazel.  It's the best.  And, while I'm going to cry and cry when they actually leave me here, I am just drinking in the happiness we all have when we're together.  Happy as little clams.  (How are clams happy?  I never got that one.  Oh well.)

Then, when I least expect it, and for pretty crazy reasons, something happens and I'm filled with longing for Terry.  After our dinner, as we prepared to leave, I saw one of Melissa's friends from High School.  He gave me a long, tight hug.  The kind of hug that isn't just a regular hug.  I don't know if you've ever experienced this kind of hug.  I call it the "You don't have to say anything" hug.  His soul told mine that he missed Terry and that he was so sorry for the void left in my life because he had a hole in his, too.

In that five full second hug, I relived those content feelings of many weekends where our house was full of teenagers who were comfortable in our home.  The friendships and fun.  The thousands of fruit snacks and cans of soda.  The games.  The noise!  (Oh, that noise.  I loved it!) The second hand couch those kids put on our porch to have a place to hang out.  And I KNEW they were there because they loved Terry.  Of course, my daughters were gorgeous and pretty awesome and so were the other teens I helped raise who were also there.  But...in the end...they loved Terry the most.  They were there because Terry made them feel at home and special.  Sam's hug reminded me of that.  I cried in the car the whole way home.

Then, just this past Wednesday, I was rushing into my classroom to start the school day.  I had been gone from those dolls Monday and Tuesday because of meetings so I was extra excited to be back.  As I hurried along to put all of my "stuff" down, I fell off of my favorite, adorable shoes and broke my ankle.  Not pretty.  But, I didn't cry.  It hurt but I was mostly laughing at myself because I kept picturing my fall. (Why do we laugh when people fall down?  Because it's hysterical, that's why!)   The administrators and other teachers came to help me out.  But, before I could get up, I was told I had to give a call to Worker's Comp to give my information.  No problem.

That was the second thing this week that I didn't see coming.

Operator:  Name?
Me:    Tami Anderson
Operator:  Birthdate?
Me:  June 7, 1963
Operator:  Marital Status?
Me: .....umm....that's a hard one.

I looked at all the people staring at me.  Then fixed them on my best sister/friend Kathe and started sobbing as I willed myself to say:  Widow

That's a hard word to say.  If you've ever had to say it when you're describing yourself, you know what I mean.  It was really the first time I'd said it out loud.  "Widow"  I hate that word.


So, now I'm bracing myself for the coming week.  I realize it will be of no use.  I can be as strong as I will myself to be.  But, guess what?  Somethings, you just don't see coming.

Why I Will Always Hate February

February is the pits!  Valentine's Day without a my valentine.  President's Day when all the good presidents are dead.  Punxsutawney Phil will most likely see his shadow tomorrow...six more weeks of Winter.  Erika and Tyler are moving to So. California (but, I'm not going to talk about that).  The Olympics start on the 7th (yay!) but will have to close on the 23rd (boo!).  They're in Sochi, Russia (where??) and the public restrooms there have double toilet stalls (double boo!!).

Worst of all, it will be the second anniversary of my boyfriend's untimely death.

Last year on February 1st I wrote about "Turning Pages".   Calendar pages.  I wrote about how difficult it was to physically turn the January page to February.  It would somehow reinforce that my Terry would be gone for an entire year.  Impossible.  As if not turning a calendar page could bring him back.  As if.  But, I eventually turned it and the world didn't fall apart.  Most likely because it had already done so a year before.  You can read that post here:  http://candadiantami.blogspot.com/2013/02/turning-pages.html if you are so inclined.

So, here I am facing another turn of the calendar.  It has got to be easier this year right??  I mean, two years is a long time.  I should be a little more "together" when it comes to silly little calendars.  I've learned many things over the past two years.  One being, I can NEVER just assume that my life and feelings will play out the way I imagined them.  This crazy heart inside has a mind of it's own and is usually connected to my tears.

I faced my beautiful new calendar from Melissa Rae last night.  It was like facing off with a boxing opponent.  If I turned January to February, I just knew I'd get punched in the face.  So, I left it on January again.  Take THAT, February!

Last night I reread all of my blog posts from last February...the year anniversary of Terry's death.  I was sobbing my eyes out (as I knew I would) and feeling all of those feelings all over again.  I should have stopped.  But, it felt good to hurt.  What?  I know.  I can't describe it.  Sometimes when I hurt, I feel better.  Maybe I need a therapist.

So, after reading the post from February 1, 2013, I remembered that I had Eloise with me last year.  As luck would have it, I have her this year as well.  Just the two of us.  We went to lunch with some friends then headed out to the Provo Cemetery to visit Pop Pop.  We arrived to find a LARGE group of people waiting to bury their departed loved one.  We walked closer and I started to worry that the group had congregated on top of Terry's spot.  Getting closer and closer,  I could feel all of these wonderful people actually exuding a palpable love for their dear one.  It was peaceful.  Like an invisible shield around that sacred occasion.  We found my boyfriend's spot...within three feet of the mourning family.  We'd have to make it quick.  There wasn't enough snow to fashion snowball hearts like last year.  Just some hard snow/ice left over from the last snowfall.  So, we made heart imprints with our feet, said "We love you, Pop Pop!", and that was it.  A tradition has begun.

I guess I can be grateful that it isn't a leap year and that February is just 28 days long.  Hopefully, I'll have turned that calendar page by then.

                     

This photo has me so confused.  Those hearts are actually pressed into the snow by our shoes.
I have stared at it in every possible way and I can only see them
popping up.
I'm not going crazy...am I?
Please tell me you see it that way.