Memory Scents

It's funny how certain scents remain with you. Sometimes for a lifetime. I have many memory scents. When I use one of my favorite body sprays, Pomegranate Apple, it takes me back to the first time I smelled it. I was at our favorite Chinese restaurant waiting to pick up our food. For some reason I was always selected to go pick it up. It was early summer time. A lady came in wearing the scent and it smelled so good on her I had to ask her what it was. She told me and said she got it at CVS. So of course on the way home I had to make one last stop to buy some. Now every time I wear it, I go back to that day when he was alive & waiting for me to return home with our dinner. The scent of pines always take me back to my childhood. In May we always went to the U.P. to visit my grandparents. We had wood swings tied with rope to a very tall beautiful pine tree. When I smell pine, I feel like I am under that tree, swinging, with not a care in the world. The smell of a gas powered small engine running, such as my rototiller, makes me think of snowmobiling as a kid. My Dad & his brothers were snowmobile men. We rode in the winter a lot, me hanging on tight to my Dad, the smell from the engine drifting back to me. The scent of burning metal makes me think of the many times I would catch Ted under a car torching off bolts & things, sparks flying everywhere and him with no goggles or safety protection at all. I would watch him doing what he loved & tell him he was going to get hurt. His response was to turn his torch up higher. I think my absolute favorite memory scent is coconut shampoo. Every single time I use it, I drift back to my little trailer I had. I loved that trailer. It was old, falling apart and had many weak spots on the floor through out. But it was mine. Money borrowed and paid back, it was my very first home. I raised my older son there, just him and I for five years. It had an enclosed porch that I loved to sit on and watch the sunsets in the field behind us. Many happy memories from that time. Rough, lonely, struggling years, but still happy. That was when I first discovered the coconut shampoo because it was cheap. I'm glad I have memory scents. Sometimes when we just need a little break from the day to day struggles, it's nice to go back in time and smell the .......

The Cuddler

I read an article about a woman who is being criticized for her new profession and business she created. She is a professional cuddler. People pay her a set rate and she will lay in bed with them and cuddle. No sex, just cuddling. A warm arm around you all night if you have the money. I so get this need. There are many things I miss about him but the loss of his touch is hard. A simple hug from the one you know loves you more than anything is worth so much. It can't compare to hugs from your kids or parents or the sweet ladies at church. It just can't. The loss of just being able to come home and tell him about your crappy day, even if he doesn't see your point of view. I email him occasionally. They never come back as undeliverable so I like to think he gets them. I used to call his cell phone just so I could listen to his message but eventually I did let his service cancel. Then one day I had forgot and called his number. My heart stopped. A man answered. I hung up. So a few days ago I texted him. I just wanted to tell him I love him. I miss his companionship. I miss loving him and having him love me back. I have discovered in the last few months one thing I thought was impossible. There is room enough in my heart for him and someone else. Which I'm relieved to know. It doesn't mean I have to forget him. He is part of the woman I am today. I was so blessed to have my own cuddler for so many years, I wish I had appreciated it more. Hmmmm a cuddler. Would be nice but I would settle for paying someone to at least rub my feet for an hour.

47

Had he lived he would have turned 47 years old today. Today is his birthday. So much drama and stress in my life right now I could barely think straight today. I felt distant. We did release some balloons and have cupcakes with the family. I like to hear the kids as they watch the balloons climb higher and higher in the sky and yell "Happy Birthday"! Was finally able to go to his grave just before dark and as I sat on the bench I wanted to cry but just felt empty. Drained. I miss making a cake for him. Buying his present. Making a fuss over him. Making him feel special. I just miss him. I wish I could have put myself in the balloon and floated off high in the sky to find him. I like to think he gets our balloons with all of our messages of love. I looked at the group of people who stood in the field watching until the balloons were a tiny speck. Just a handful of us but what more could you ask for after you're gone? I hope I have at least a few people remembering me. He was a good man. A kind man. A loved man. Happy Birthday Ted! I love you!

The Raccoon vs. The Wids

This is why I love my job. A call came in at work yesterday. The woman sounded distraught. A raccoon had got into the attic of a rental home she owned and she wanted to know if the clean up was covered. I told her I would get back with her. After pulling her file and talking with a co worker about it I called her and advised her to possibly find someone to help her do this. As she clearly became more upset I asked if she had seen the damage. She said no she didn't know where to look to get in the attic. I suggested possibly her husband could find this. She began crying. She told me she didn't have a husband. She was a widow. With three kids. My heart melted. I can't count how many times people have said to me "Why doesn't your husband do this?" "Well, maybe because he is buried in a box in the ground and just can't get out at the moment" is what I feel like saying but don't. I know people don't know. But when you are having one of those days where everything falls apart, as she clearly was, even a simple question like that can get the grief waves to start rolling. So we talked. I asked her how long since he died. She said 7 years. My heart sunk again. All I could think was I do not want to be there in 7 years. I want to love again. Be married again. Share my life again. If it's in God's plans. So the wheels in my head began to spin. I told her I didn't want her to worry about this the rest of the day. To just relax. I would call her tomorrow and we would get this taken care of. So my intentions this morning were to call her, meet her at the house with my ladder, flashlight, shop vac and a mask and see what this little creature has done to her attic. When I called she sounded so much better. She said she had called her Dad and father-in-law and they were going to help her. I told her I was ready if they couldn't. I told her to call me anytime day or night if she just needed an understanding ear from someone who truly gets it. I said I am sure you're husband is very proud of the job you are doing. She said I think he is too. I hated the word widow for a long time. I couldn't even bring myself to say it. Sometime around the one year mark, it became a part of me. That word is like a badge. Of courage. Of strength. Of resilience. Of love. In my mind it says My husband did not leave me, walk out on me, divorce me. He died in the middle of our marriage. I was loved, respected, adored by someone. I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed and rather looking forward to climbing up in the attic and helping her. Doesn't matter though. The Wids won, hands down.

29 months

Anxiety with me all day long. Heart racing. It was a Friday 29 months ago. By this time he was already gone. Laying on a table in the hospital, body cold, as I rubbed & kissed his face & still kept hoping for a miracle. I look back and wish I had done more. More holding his hand, cooking his favorite meal, rubbing his feet, telling him I loved him, praying with him. But for each of the regrets there are twice as many things I am grateful for. His love, his trust, his devotion to us, the financial stability he provided, his humor, his intelligence, his desire to take care of his family. A lady at church recently lost her husband. They were married over 60 years. She said to me God has given her peace about his death. For the first time since he died I realized I think I have some of that peace. I still cry, I still miss him, but I know he's not scared anymore. He's not in pain anymore. And that gives me peace. God has helped me travel this long road and I have discovered many things about myself along the way. I am strong, I have more faith than I ever thought I had, I am smarter than I gave myself credit for. I think Ted would be proud of me. That I didn't give up. That I kept getting up and doing what needed to be done. 29 months. A long time yet just yesterday in memory.

That Old Anxious Feeling

The anxiety is creeping back. Too many issues at hand draining me. Sucking my energy out. My heart has been racing all day, crying on & off all day. Feels like I can't get air in my lungs. I think I am on track and headed in the right direction, then BAM! I realize it won't work. Then one phone call sets my stomach in knots. This whole week has been a nightmare of emotions. Why can't people treat other people with love and respect and kindness? I just don't understand why people can't see what they have in front of their faces and just be grateful for it. Look up at the skies and thank the good Lord for what you have! People give up too easy. Don't want to make the effort. I'm tired, oh so tired. Just want to lay down. I hear Ted now. "Then lay down. Stop worrying about everyone else." He saw things so differently. How do you get things to work when it seems hopeless? Pray. Then pray some more. Then pray even more. It's all I can do right now.

Still surreal

So I'm driving in my car. Talking with my son about video games and laughing. I suddenly have a thought flash in my head that this was wrong. How can it be possible to laugh and talk about normal every day stuff when Ted has died? It just felt so strange and bad. Sometimes I just feel like I slip backwards to the first few months. We went & saw "their" movie, Iron Man 3. When the song would come on the radio, Ted would turn it up loud & they would jam out, just the two of them. Of course I was excluded from seeing the first two movies, it was a guy movie, I was told. So it felt kind of strange to take him to see it. But I am glad I did. Sitting there in the theater, in a spot they would have sat in, half way through the movie, I swear I suddenly smelled his cologne. For a few brief seconds I inhaled & could smell him. Then it was gone. So naturally I cried silent tears on the way home. Thinking the What If's. What if he wasn't dead. I would be at home, enjoying the peace and quiet. They would stop at McDonald's and pick up dinner. He might call and ask me what I wanted. Or he might just surprise me. They would come in, excited, talking about how good the movie was. Ted always picked up on one phrase from the movies he would see and then for months afterwards, I would listen to them both use "the phrase", for every situation. I'm glad I can at least now, smile at those memories instead of break down in sobs. But it still hurts.