Sunday, September 13, 2015

In the middle of time

I am in the middle of time—two weeks ago was Rob's Birthday and in two weeks is the Second Anniversary of his Death. Tears flow more frequently once again. I encounter memories wherever I turn. And I am seeing my gradual evolution.

Off to the feed and grain store (doesn't everyone?) and then go check out a different supermarket than the one on my usual route. Plug address into Celeste (my GPS) and I am off. Find myself marveling that I am on roads I do not believe I have ever driven on. I am on an adventure in my own backyard! In the past I would have gotten anxious about not knowing where I was, exactly. But now it does not seem to matter.

So I fly high and then hit turbulence. I am not familiar with this new supermarket and therefore don't know the isles and shelves to avoid. Ever think about what a mind (yes mind) field supermarkets become after your husband dies? Items you picked up just for him. Items he asked for. Items that were all he could eat. Numerous small explosions.

Plotting my own back roads route for my way home, I have the thought, "I can take the route home from the hospital." Home from the hospital offers up overwhelming images of that last trip almost exactly two years ago. Do all my back roads only lead from or to the hospital?

I understand that this is an emotionally charged time. And I am trying to keep an awareness of what is the same, what is different—what are memories. One change I want to acknowledge is that I have taken off my wedding band. I did not think I would ever do this. But I have a new ring to wear on my left hand now. A cigar band style ring with, of course, a horse on it. I am horse. Was going to say that I am becoming horse, but that is so passé . I am horse.

Maybe that is part of the ongoing transformation. Another difference is that I am slowly migrating back to using my maiden name. It feels right in the acknowledgement of all that has changed and the who am I this time. This middle of time space is turning into a place of experimentation. Trying different things on for size. Seeing what fits.

It is almost Rosh Hashanah. And that was when "we" went into the hospital for the last time. In 2013 Rosh Hashana fell on September 5th. I think of the first week as letting the reality sink in and the rush of visitors. Week Two was a transition week as the inevitability of the reality sank in. And Week Three was the end. We had 21 days.

One moment I am fearless flying to new heights and the next I am crashing and burning...ah welcome back Roller Coaster. But the ride is not as harrowing as in the past. It has leveled out and the drops do not last that long, and are no where as intense. The Roller Coaster is now just a reminder.