Sleepless in Seattle

Saturday night I stayed home and flicked through the TV stations trying to find something interesting to watch. I landed on Sleepless in Seattle, a favorite movie I have watched at least a half a dozen times before. It had been a few years since I last saw it, so I settled down with my popcorn and a glass of white wine to watch. I've always enjoyed the movie, concentrating solely on the love story developing between Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. But this time I saw it with different eyes. I saw the part where 'Sam' was grief stricken over the loss of his wife and he could not see how life could go on without her.


This conversation struck me....


Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: People who truly loved once are far more likely to love again. Sam, do you think there's someone out there you could love as much as your wife? 
Sam Baldwin: Well, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone, that's hard to imagine. 
Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: What are you going to do? 
Sam Baldwin: Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out... and, then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while. 
Doctor Marcia Fieldstone: Tell me what was so special about your wife? 
Sam Baldwin: Well, how long is your program? Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic. 

Yes, I cried watching the movie. But I also was a little hopeful too. I realize Dr. Marcia Fieldstone is just an imaginary "doctor" in a movie, but what she said gave me something to think about....."People who truly loved once are far more likely to love again". I kinda agree.

I Danced

I danced last night. It was the first time I have danced in over two years. Kenny and I would dance whenever there was an opportunity. Neither one of us were great at it, but we both knew how to move to the beat, and even more importantly, we both just had fun. On a cruise we would go to the dance classes that were made available and practice what we learned. Here in Monterey we took dance lessons, whether country line dancing or ballroom. We were in the process of ballroom dance lessons when ALS took over and he no longer could keep up. That was the end of dancing for us, and the end of dancing for me.

There is a hot spot here in the valley called Baja Cantina. It is a Mexican food restaurant with a large patio where a band plays on weekends. Margaritas and beer are flowing, a huge glowing fire is keeping everyone warm, colored lights are criss crossed overhead, and people dance. Last night we were a table of eight and I had invited my friend Rob to join as I am just plain tired of flying solo to every event I go to. We had a table inside, enjoyed our meal, and could hear the band starting up outside. When the bill had been paid, we all headed outside. Before I could think of an excuse not to dance, or muster the courage up to actually do it, Rob grabbed my hand and had me out on the floor. And it was great. It was fun. It made me smile and laugh and feel all aglow. I didn't want to stop and indeed we stayed until the last song played.

I wondered if and when I would every feel like dancing again. I've sat and watched others dance but never felt up to getting out there myself. I have been coaxed to "come on and dance with us" but I had absolutely no desire so I would sit on the sidelines watching. But last night was different. Last night, I did it. I was ready. And it felt right....and it felt good.

Another birthday....

I made it through the year and hit every "special" day once, so now that I am in the second year, I thought things might be easier. Perhaps certain days will be, but yesterday was my birthday and it was not easy at all. I am not sure why my birthday happens to be a day that is so hard....I know last year it was harder than even Kenny's birthday...or even our anniversary. It just hits me hard.  I realized yesterday that it is not only Kenny I miss, but my mom too. Both made my birthday special at different times in my life. Thank you, Kenny! Thank you, Mom!

I woke up at 6:30 and said out loud to my cat..."today's my birthday"....and tears came. I fell back asleep and an hour later woke up crying. I was dreaming I was in the shower, soap in my hair and a song was playing. I was listening to the words and they reminded me of Kenny. I took the towel and held it as though I was holding Kenny and I started slow dancing in the shower, crying my eyes out. I woke up with that....tears, bawling really, and a heavy, heavy heart. Yes, this was going to be a tough day.

That darn dream set me up for a very tearful morning. I had not made any plans, and most of my friends are not aware of my birthday, so it was a quiet morning save a few calls and texts from close friends and family. I chose not to go to church, simply because I didn't want to. I puttered around, watered the garden, fixed a quesadilla for breakfast, and headed over to visit with Red. By the time I came home I had that old familiar exhaustion that comes when my emotions are raw. I crawled in bed at 11:30 knowing I had plenty of time before my lunch with the kids at 1:30. I woke at 1, startled I had been in bed so long, showered and got myself out the door to spend the afternoon with the kids. I would love to say I rallied completely and that I was happy, but I felt the tears so close to the surface it was hard  to be completely engaged. I told the kids about my dream....my day....and they understood. It was a nice afternoon though and I was thankful for the time spent.

Fortunately I had told my friend Rob to keep the night open. When I left the kids house close to six, I really could have gone home and crawled back in bed. But a plan had been made, so I went home, freshened up and met Rob in Carmel. If there is one person on earth that can make me laugh it is Rob. He is fun, really fun, and he always cracks me up even without trying to. It took awhile...but after a glass of wine and good conversation, I felt my old me, my happier me, come back. I was too full to eat because of my late lunch, but I picked sweet potato fries from his plate, and the bartender, who overheard it was my birthday, brought out a huge brownie sundae. So we ate most of it....my second dessert of the day.

My day ended on a good note. My last tears were in the early evening when I told Rob about my dream, and then the night just got better. Tears are part of life, I know this.....there will always be sad times. But there are happy times too. I had both yesterday, and was glad to have ended the day well.

I Made It Through

Well, I have now officially made it through my first year without Kenny. The month of May was a hard one, mostly because I knew that the 24th was approaching. It came and went, and for the most part I felt much like I did last year after Kenny was gone except in lighter measure. I was tired, emotionally drained and wanting to stick close to home. My bed and my couch were my friends. I could feel it coming on weeks before, but the week of the 24th was when I wanted nothing more than spend most of my time alone. I slept much more than usual, crawling into bed late morning and again in the afternoon. At one point I wondered if I was fighting something as I felt so awfully tired, but no, this was something familiar and it had nothing to do with being sick.

The 24th fell on a Thursday. The following Tuesday I woke up and thought to myself, I am tired of this. I am going to make some choices today that may be hard to do, but I am going to do them. I want/need to feel happy again. So I put on my walking shoes and walked the trails at Garland Park. This place is my usual stomping ground as it is literally around the block from my house and offers 4500 acres of hiking trails. It would be a shame not to take advantage. So I walked that day as I do most days, and I cried as usual at some point on the trail, but it was what I needed. It was the beginning of climbing out of that dark hole. The hole that Kenny would not want me to stay in.

Friday night I ended up going to Carmel Valley Ranch for a glass of wine and bite to eat. I ended up sitting with a few friends and one of them told me she had someone she wanted to set me up with. He was a client of hers who had lost his wife last June. He is 62, from Michigan, lives in Pebble Beach, retired from some position with GM. "Handsome", "tall", "looks good in his jeans" she said. Sounds ideal. I found myself interested and responded with an enthusiastic "set me up"! But I know this.....there will probably be a lot of these little hopeful twists. Someone that sparks my interest but in the end, just not right for me. I know Kenny wants me to find someone. "You're a lover and a wonderful partner...you are made to be with someone" he would tell me and I believe that is true. I do want/hope to fall in love again. But there are some pretty big shoes to fill here and I know it will take nothing less than an act of God to bring me someone who loves me like that. But one thing I know for sure....God is good, and God is able.

One Year.....

One is a Lonely Number

The other day I was looking at recipes online. I don't cook much these days but I miss having someone to think of during the day and figure out the best meal for 'us' for that evenings meal. Should we sit in the living room by the fire? At the big dining table? Kitchen? Al Fresco? I love puttering in the kitchen and throwing together a simple meal. Red wine or white? I love the whole event of sharing a meal. I thought to myself, perhaps I should do it anyway....just for me. Other single friends I know seem to be able to pull this off. So I was looking at a salmon recipe that looked great and thought that might be a good one to try. On this particular website, you can adjust the ingredient amounts depending on the number of people you want to cook for. I changed the original number from 'six' down to 'one', and as soon as I saw that number I lost it. 'One' truly is the "loneliest number".

I was with an old friend several weeks ago and we were talking about how things were going with me in this current place I am in. "There are a whole lot of worse things than loneliness" he said. Yes....I had to agree. Loneliness is not fun, but when I feel it starting to wrap its ugly arms around me I can often escape it's clutches. It is not the worse thing I have experienced, that's for sure. I have to say that comment he made has stayed with me all these weeks. It has actually propelled me from going down that lonely road to another place that I'm finding is becoming more and more familiar. Thankfulness. Gratitude. Contentment.

I have a good life. A very good life. Of course it was a great life with Kenny here to share it with, but even still it is good. And even though loneliness creeps in now and then, I think of all I have and I cannot stay lonely long. Each day is a new beginning. A new hope. A new adventure. Aside from the best years of my life that I spent with Kenny, I have to say I am happier now than I have ever been. Other than having my Kenny back, I would not change a thing.....

Almost a Year....

Last night I was with a group of friends from church and someone asked me about the upcoming 'date'. The date of May 24th. The one year mark. How was I feeling about it? What was I planning on doing that day? Did I want/need to be around people? Would I like to be alone? A memorial of some type?

I don't know. I just don't know. What I do know is that I can hardly believe it has been almost a year. A year. I talk to Kenny's mom every time the 24th comes up. We talk at other times throughout the month but always on the 24th. Either she calls me, or I call her. "I know we have made him out to be a saint, but he was pretty darn good to me" she often says. Yes, he was pretty darn good to me too, and pretty much a saint in my eyes as well.

Fairly soon after Kenny died, I cleaned out the closets and gave his clothes away. Some things I kept for myself, mostly button down oxford shirts that were a staple of his.....a couple of old sweatshirts....PJ bottoms. I have to say, I wear one of these items pretty much every day. It just feels right. And then there is the Listerine. A huge bottle under the bathroom sink that I finally finished off yesterday. Funny, but it was harder to let go of than the clothes. It was the same Listerine bottle that Kenny used, sipped from to his dying day. I have been rationing it, leaving that last inch at the bottom and taking teeny tiny sips to make it last. It was his Listerine.....his lips touched this daily. I had a hard time letting that one go.

It has been almost a year and at times I think I had an easier go of it 5 months ago, or 8 months ago, or 2 months....I think it is just that there is a marker in the road. I big, glaring marker looming ahead that reminds me.... I had it great once, I had the best. And now he is gone.