I was watching a show yesterday that I know we would both be into. Toward the end of the show there was some trauma to the guy that was in it, the first think he said once he knew he was ok, was, can I call my wife? He didn’t have to she was there and she came and comforted him.
When Gene went into surgery he would be his happy go lucky self, when he came out it was a whole different story. Gene would be angry and upset and nothing would calm him down, until the nursing staff grabbed me. He wanted his wife. The scene in this show brought back so many memories, I was flooded with them and just cried it out. The first thing he would do is grab my hand and tell me how much he loved me and how glad he was that I was there. I would never be anywhere else, I wanted him to know that when he woke up I would always be there. I was, for the most part always there.
When you know someone as well as we did, when you have that connection that we had after a two year illness, you just get each other, the trust is there. We had an amazing bond and for that I will forever be grateful. He knew on some level that things were not going to be forever, I however couldn’t get that in my head and even now I feel like I have not grasped the concept that he is just not coming home.
I went with a friend to get lunch and a tattoo at a cancer event, she told me she bought a bottle of The Walking Dead wine. I asked if I could see the bottle. She took it out and my first instinct was to take a picture and send it to Gene. I picked up my phone when the reality hit me. I have these little broken moments often. When I leave Santa Barbara I cry every time because I would call him and tell him I was on my way. When I go to do it, I realize I have no one to call, no one gives a shit when I will be home, or if I ever make it home. Weird things trigger memories that make me sad, or laugh, or smile, or cry.
I am a widow trying to pick up my life and I am learning so many things along the way. I am growing as a person I suppose and I am somehow making it work. All I have are memories now and an urn full of ashes and some pictures, that is what is left of my favorite love story of all time.