This is exactly what happens. EVERYTHING is gone. I don't even have anyone to banter with.
I had 30 minutes to myself today while having my (first) MRI. (Did you know knees are custom made? I've never had anything custom!!) Who knows why, but I spent the time thinking about Mr. Ralph. Probably because of how many MRIs he had to have. They are only bad news in my humble opinion. Now my knee hurts because he had to turn it to make it straight enough for the MRI.
Missing the income is a horrible pain in the butt. But not life threatening. We planned for retirement and saved what we thought was enough, but at the rate I am spending I should plan to die within three years. I am inspired by friends who live on practically nothing (love you, Judy) and my parents who raised six pretty great kids on practically nothing (love you guys too!) So I'm pretty sure I can cut way back in lots of ways and still have fun. When I run out, it's time to sell the Maui house.
I am finding out that I am capable of managing what life throws my way. Thankfully I have a sister and friends who have kind ears. I'm learning that I love to learn. Especially computer skills. Being a single parent of young 30-somethings who are ten years behind the curve is challenging, yet we are all figuring things out. They don't live the way I would like them to but it's not my life to live. I'll do things my way and they can do theirs. I feel useful with my volunteer choices. I'm happy that I can change my lifestyle and be healthier. (Weight Watchers tomorrow!)
Mostly I still miss the little day to day things. Sharing a meal. Having help to make the bed. Going grocery shopping together. Stopping for afternoon coffee. Going to music in the park.
Just miss him.
When we have things like surgery I think we widows miss the support of our spouses the most. I know I miss the sounding board and sympathy and knowing help is close by. At least you have your kids to help and you will need it the first few weeks. I love that box at the top with the saying---I never know what to call them.
ReplyDeleteI miss sharing the good and the bad ... especially the smaller myoments. Who else would care? It's usually not something I would call and tell someone ... but if he were right there ...
DeleteI LOVE find appropriate clip art or whatever we want to call them!!!
When I had my hip surgery, I sure missed opening my eyes and NOT seeing Fred sitting by my bedside. When I got home after rehab, I sure missed opening the door and Fred was NOT here. No one here 24/7 to help me in and out of bed, fix something to eat, be with me in the dead of night when I woke up hurting and scared.
ReplyDeleteAs for living on practically nothing? I wouldn't exactly call it "living". Subsisting, still breathing, but not living, in the full sense of the word. You won't ever have to worry about that.
Sniff. I think I will really miss him then. I'll see him with my eyes closed ...
DeleteI am lucky to have at least ONE kidlet ... and that we get along so well. We will see how it goes once I am not able to do much for myself. So far, so good!
Subsisting and breathing ... with cheerful attitude! Some people would have a continuous pity party and we would all have to unfriend them on Facebook and not read their blog! I sure wish you would travel ... so we could meet in person!