Since losing Tin, I look to each new week as a new horizon that will bring brighter days. This is my fourth post and I thought, maybe by now, my blog would have small sparks of settlement in the chaos. I guess it is good to hope but bad to assume. A very fine line that I often fail to recognize these days. I’ll keep the faith that those brighter days are to come but it is difficult with the unexpected challenges that continue to appear. I feel as though I have never heard of anyone else going through all of the milestone days associated with a loss along with the strange scenarios I have recently found myself cornered in. Yes cornered is a great description of how I feel and this week has been one of the most unmanageable yet.
Those who haven’t lost a partner can’t understand the extent of the loneliness. No one to wake up to. No one texting through the day to see how you are. No one to plan dinner with. No one to fold laundry with. No one in the room at the end of the night to wish you sweet dreams and provide a sense of safety through the night. Worst of all – No one to enjoy those special dates with. The lack of a person makes them almost unbearable.
This week was one of those weeks. Fourth of July would be our 4th anniversary and the days leading up to it were full of discomfort, no appetite and depression. I feel like a ghost sometimes just floating around except I actually want to be invisible sometimes. My plan on our anniversary was to be invisible, stay home, order Tin’s favorite food and ignore that the pops and bangs around the neighborhood were others celebrating their independence while I only feel pain and a new emptiness from mine. Of course the creativity of the Universe decided otherwise. Tin’s cousin was in town to start going through his mother’s house and it just so happens that 4th of July was the better night to go to dinner. We went out and I had fun but I felt guilty I wasn’t home reserving this night as our night. The next day would be tough to go to his mother’s house and start sorting. Tin’s cousin asked me to bring his ashes over so she could transport them up to Chicago for burial. This would be the last time he would leave our home. I buckled him in the passenger seat, said my goodbyes and carried him into his mother’s home. After a couple of hours of tears and confusion, his cousin asked if I would take Tin back to my apartment because she did not think she could carry him on a plane. I had gone through our anniversary and having to say goodbye again only to bring him back home. So I buckled him in on the passenger side, drove home, parked and carried Tin in one hand while walking Roan on leash. There we were, the three of us climbing the stairs together again not knowing when Tin would leave us again permanently….