Since He Left
A bizarre array of things have happened to me in the five months since I lost Ray. Things that stand apart from our 40 years of up and down adventures. From Bali to Scotland to the wilds of the Los Padres National Forest, we took it all in stride. When Ray’s illness came we were each courageous in our own way.
But now, WTF!
Since Ray passed over I was nearly bilked by internet scammers, was misdiagnosed and had to cold turkey withdraw from beta blockers (I couldn’t leave the house for nearly a week) and had a staph infection, now cured.
I dabbled in the silent energy of innocuous stones, (some of them are in my driveway). Brownish red stones named Jasper lived under my pillow for a time until they got too pushy. I’ve laid petrified wood between my ankles, felt the pull of the crystal pendulum and most recently had a lengthy conversation with my left mastoid.
My efforts to confirm my underlying good health have produced negative test results in spite of my often spinning head and rock bottom fatigue. Today I’m nursing a torn groin muscle thanks to my riding mower.
What is the universe trying to tell me? Was karma left out in the cold while I nursed Ray through his illness and now come home to room with me? Did I ignore obvious signals? Did I run through red lights without even seeing them?
I’ve decided it’s because my other half is gone and my mind and spirit are out of balance. Ray isn’t here to level me. People ask if I’m getting into a schedule yet. I say “Sure, little by little.” And I don’t tell them my schedule is to not listen to the music we shared and to not read his writings, especially his journals.
I talk with other grievers and hear the call of the bereaved, “Why is this happening to me?” Are we so distracted by grief that we’re easy targets? I’m gullible. I do little things impromptu, things I regret the minute I do them. I guess that’s why we’re told not to make any major changes for a year after our loved one dies.
I have seven months to go, wish me luck.
Dear Cindy, you always know how to bring me peace. I'm having a Celebration of Life for Ray at the end of May and I'm liking the focus it brings me, visualizing his friends and family here to share their memories of him. Despite the trials of the last few months, as you say I know he's here as I work in the garden and mow the lawn! Thank you my friend.
Barbara, my friend, I honestly believe that whatever you do or don't do is okay. That you're doing anything at all is, to me, a quiet miracle. Forty years of loving and living with Ray -- every day, every night -- is 350,633 hours, plus or minus... It's gonna take a while to find what becomes your normal without him. How many hours of practice have you had in 5 months? Take it easy, kiddo, and remember he's still there with you, watching, loving you, and probably missing you at least as much as you miss him. And whatever you were doing on that riding mower that ended up in a torn groin muscle, he's proud of you for everything you do.🙏💜🙏