Rocking Chairs of Dreams

Today I woke early and Bill was on my mind, as he usually is.  I sat in the chair that I always sat in which was across from the chair Bill always sat in, but his chair was empty again.  He and I would sit in our chairs, pray, meditate and search God's will in our lives.  It was a wonderfully spiritual part of our lives and I miss that so badly.  At the end of our "session," he's smile and say, "That's it," and then he's lean over and kiss me. I'd stand and kiss his bald head.  I loved that part of our morning. 

After praying and meditating we'd discuss the world's problems and iron them all out before breakfast.  Mornings were great here and I'm so grateful to have had so many years of them with Bill before he died.  Bill and I had a "pack."  When we both retired we would buy two wooden rocking chairs and set them out on our porch and grow old together.  We'd sit on our rocking chairs and discuss our children, our grand dogs, and our life in general.  That never happened and we never bought those rocking chairs.  We were close, but life took a deadly turn and the dream ended. 
Now I go to Cracker Barrel and places like that and look at all the rocking chairs lined up on their porch and think of all the times Bill and I could have had solving the nation's problems on our own rocking chairs.  I imagine we would sit on the porch, rocking back and forth while the wind chimes surrounding us would catch a breeze and play music for us.  He'd take my hand holding it that special way that only he held my hand.  The dream now is only alive in my brain.  I will never own a rocking chair to put out on my porch.  It's just not meant to be; but I'm okay with that now because I have so many other "real" memories that no one can remove. 

Bill was a sensitive man; a tender man, who rarely raised his voice to his children or me.  He always tried to reason out problems or conflicts.  He was a peacemaker and a man God truly loved.  Bill loved life and found blessings in almost everything; but he was real with God, telling Him when he was upset with Him and when he wanted things to go in a different direction than God planned.  But Bill and I had a saying which we ended with each prayer, "Your will God, not mine."  We both believed that our Higher Power knew what was best for us and what was going to happen down the road.  He had all the blueprints, we had only a piece and we tried to draft the whole blueprint from the tiny piece we were given. 

This morning is one of those mornings when I look at his empty chair and wonder why.  After almost two years, if I close my eyes, I can still hear his voice whispering in my ear, I can feel his soft lips on mine and I feel our two hearts beating together, then I open my eyes and it's all gone, except for the memory which will remain with me forever.  My throat fills with a lump I can't swallow away but no tears flow from my eyes today.  Not today, maybe tomorrow.

Post Hiatus

It's been eight years since I've written in this blog.  For awhile I changed over to Wordpress but now I'm going to attempt to write here and refresh this blog.

So a lot of things have happened in the eight years I've been gone but the two most notable things have been the death of my father in 2016 and my husband in 2018.  The death of these two men nearly destroyed me.

My father died suddenly in the hospital.  One minute he was up walking around and talking to us and the next minute he fell to the floor and had a cardiac arrest.  He was 84 years old but he was a "good" 84.  His mind was in tip-top shape and his body was better than most 84-year olds.  The week he died he was fixing my daughter's swimming pool.  The loss of. my father was so great that I had a "mini" break-down after all the arrangements were made, after the funeral was over, and after I took care of business.  I survived, but it was a rough couple of months.

The death of my husband so close to the death of my father was incredibly worse.  I can't explain how broken my heart was and still is.  I had never before felt such deep emotional pain.  I walked around for days not believing he was gone.  Like my father, my husband died suddenly in the hospital.  We were talking in the morning.  He was alert and happy.  He died suddenly that evening of a myocardial infarction.  On Friday he was working for his company and on Sunday he died.  I couldn't believe it.  My husband had lung cancer.  He was diagnosed in July and died in April.  Nine months from diagnosis to death.  I thought we'd have more time but the time we did have was priceless.  We were together for 44 years.  Some people don't get to live with their soul mate that long. I was still devastated when he died.  I'm still devastated now, after almost 2 years.

So now I live with my two Doberman Pinschers and memories.  Sometimes, for no apparent reason, I'll hear my husband's voice and I have to turn around to be sure he's not there.  There are rare times when I feel his lips on my forehead.  If I close my eyes and really concentrate, I can feel his breath on my skin.  When I close my eyes I can see his face before me....sometimes.

I think of my father every time I use a plastic glass that I bought for him so when the glass fell through his fingers it wouldn't shatter.  He always said that I was probably embarrassed when my friends came over and I served them in plastic glasses. I said no, of course I wasn't embarassed.   He'd smile but I'm not sure he believed me.  I'd have paper and plastic all over my house if it made him more comfortable about losing his grip; but losing his grip was something he really didn't like.

I am grateful for these and a multitude of other memories but they sadden me as well.  I miss both of them so deeply.  I miss both of them which leads me to miss my mother who died in 2000.  Death can be so consuming to those of us who are left behind.  Death reminds us that life is short and we are not invincible.

My husband lived life to the fullest, even after he was given a "death sentence" when he was diagnosed with Small Cell Lung Cancer (SCLC).  I know he'd want me to live my life to the fullest too but I can't seem to attain that right now.  Even after 22 months, I have to take things one day at at time.  Maybe one day, I'll be able to live the life my husband always said I should live.  For me to do that, I think I'll need the help of my Higher Power to get me there.