Different Kind of Saturday

I spent most of  the day at the training for UM Stadium volunteers over at The Big House.  An old friend from Community High was there, and it was good to reconnect with him.  The only tough time was when he and I sat on a bench eating our lunch.  His cell phone rang, it was his wife; I listened to him exchange endearments with her and the vegetarian sandwich I was eating lost all its taste.  I remembered having done the same thing with Gwen in the past; once again reality set in and a cloud came over the sun--literally.  The young woman who is in charge of "Game Operations" at UM, and who conducted today's training session was a strong voice from the past--I was her guidance counselor in high school!

It is said that the second six months of grief gets worse; it does.  I find myself more and more talking with Gwen, telling her how much I miss her.  At times it all seems so pointless, going on, reconstructing my life, becoming the new "me without Gwen."  It is important for me to write about those feelings.  I am a bit hesitant to do so because I don't want friends and family to worry that I'm not handling this well.  I am; it's just that I have to own and embrace these feelings before I will be able to let them go.  Gwen wants me to get on with life, and I'm going to continue doing that the best way I know how to

 Soon I will leave to attend Brooke's dance recital.  I will be sure to tell her that grandma sends her love.

Tomorrow will be a commemoration day, Dear, seven months ago this evening it was just you and I as you set off into a life that has changed for you, as has mine.  I think of those words you once wrote in a card to me: someday I am going to miss you terribly. . .