It's how I feel.

It was supposed to be a stormy evening, but so far nothing seems to have developed.  I'm afraid that further north where son John lives they may have gotten the worst of it.  The weather matches my mood lately--stormy and a little bit unpredictable.  Today a woman called from a charitable organization, seeking, I assume, a contribution from me.  When I  answered the phone the first thing she did was to ask whether I might be Gwendolyn.  I'm afraid I didn't treat her very charitably.

If I keep busy I don't miss Gwen quite as much.  (Maybe that's why I enjoy writing this blog so much.)  This morning I had my best score of the summer in my golf league, yet, my happiness about that was diminished when I found myself wanting to go home and tell Gwen about it.  "You should do better," she would say, "it seems like all you do lately is play golf."  Then she would smile and say how happy she was that I was finding time to do something I enjoyed.  Just as she never felt guilty about the demands her illness placed on me as a caregiver (The words were "in sickness and in health."), she also wanted me to never feel that I didn't deserve having opportunities to get away and do things for myself.  If that's not love. . .

Today I did some laundry, and, as I was hanging some shirts in the closet a visor came tumbling down from a shelf.  It was just a plain white visor with the logo of High Pointe Golf Course on it.  Many years ago our nephew, Kevin, was a pro at that course, and he gave the visor to Gwen.  I picked the visor off the floor and saw Gwen wearing it when we golfed together, and, most memorably, when John Gerich and I won the Washtenaw County Crochet Championship and she and Elise got all dressed up in summer whites.  That now familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach comes once again.  Some say it feels like fear, and, in a way it does.  To me it's like the feeling I got each time one of our children began college and we left them waving goodbye from the sidewalk in front of their new home.  On the ride home Gwen and I would talk about how each time this happened it was another hole in  a life that would never be the same.  It feels like that; only a thousand times worse

On the bright side, I spent time with John and Brooke this afternoon when they helped me bring a car to the garage for maintenance.  Things got even better when I was asked to have Brooke spend the day with me while John and Amy attend a concert.  As is the case with each of our grandchildren, Gwen is with me in a special way when I am with them.

I know you want me to keep busy, Dear, and to find things I enjoy doing.  The keeping busy part is easy; enjoyment still takes some doing