Sundays then, Sundays now...

Mourning a spouse is not just about missing the person whose departure left this gaping hole.  The mourning of that person is heavy and hard enough but added to that is the loss of "life as you know it."

Today I'm once again faced by the crazy departure of "how I would spend a Sunday THEN" and the reality of "how I spend Sunday NOW."  Then had a definable routine.  I would wake up a bit before Pat and snuggle against him for a while. I would then make my way downstairs, light a couple of candles, roll out my yoga mat and begin my weekly long yoga workout. At some point he would come downstair, the dogs happily following him (they stayed in bed with whoever stayed there the longest).  He would let them out then come back to watch me or go back and forth between me and the kitchen if he woke up hungry. Often he'd bring his breakfast in to the living room to watch me. He or the dogs would bother me along the way. When I was done, it was kisses and off to shower and make my protein concoction. The rush began to get ready for church and out the door. We'd stop to get coffee and then head to service.  During church he would rub my shoulders and twirl my hair. I'd elbow him if his eyes started to close.  We would visit with folks afterward and then decide what to do about lunch. Eventually we'd wind up home where he would want a Sunday nap - I would either join him or work on a paper for school. Before it got too late, we would take the dogs out to a park and go for a nice long hike with them. Sometimes we'd drive them out to the lake to swim.  We'd hug and kiss, watch the sunset, talk and laugh. Then it would be off to prepare for Monday and hold each other close as we fell asleep.

Now I wake up surrounded by animals. I try to get my Sunday yoga in, but since I'm teaching it tomorrow night today I took the dogs on a long walk. I rushed and got ready to pick up my 2 yo granddaughter and then my sister to go visit my daughter in the hospital with her new son. She was being discharged so we were there about 45 minutes and we were walking her little family unit out to their car.  I dropped my sister off, got Khaleesi a kid's meal and a salad for me and went home to let the dogs out and play with her.  We hung out and read books and played until Mommy came with the big kids and their baby at 3pm. I sorted some of Pat's clothes to give away, put away my laundry, and began to cry.  Feeling incredibly alone and incredibly overwhelmed by all the things that need to be done around here. Feeling empty and hollow and just completely lost without my old life.

The calls come about things I should do or am I do, will I do. I'm discomfited by the changes, by the mayhem that is my home with piles of clothes, stacks of papers, things that must be sorted and absolutely no time to do it.  It's two months now. I think people thought I was so strong that they expect me to be moving on, to shouldering my burdens well, but little do they know that I'm just cruising through chaos and my ship is being blown wherever the storm takes me.