It’s been 5 years, 5 months, and 14 days since Prince Charming left this Earth.
I’ve tried to be brave, be strong, to carry on . . . even when I didn’t know WTF I was doing, even when I didn’t WANT to carry on.
I buried him. And I had no idea what kind of service he wanted.
I settled his estate. I handled a wrongful death claim. I dealt with the Bureau of Worker Compensation, a whole bunch of insurance agencies, and some other silly government stuff that I don’t really remember.
I bought a new car. I bought a new washer. I planned for a major remodeling project for The Little House. I had a new driveway installed. I dealt with the daily stuff of living in a 90-something year old house.
I did yard work . . . winter and summer . . . even though I hate it.
Everyone told me it would get “easier”. That I would eventually “feel better”. Life wasn’t always going to “suck”. I called bullshit on all of that . . . it’s still hard, it still hurts, it still sucks.
Mostly I went through the motions of doing “stuff” so people wouldn’t worry about the “poor thing” wallowing in her widowhood . . .
Today I think I’ve turned a corner. I still don’t know WTF I’m doing but I am starting to feel like whatever comes around I can handle it . . . because, surprisingly enough, I have been handling it all along.
And it started with a weed eater. A string trimmer. And spending some time edging the sidewalk in front of the house.
Sounds simple enough . . . but it’s really a massive accomplishment. I’m a yard snob. I like the yard to look “just so” but since Prince Charming has been gone I didn’t have the energy or desire to do the work necessary to have the yard look “just so” . . . so I didn’t do it. Yes, the yard is cut and I did cut down the weeds but it was a half hearted effort. The weed eater I had belonged to Prince Charming. It was built for him . . . and he was a foot taller than me and weighed about a hundred pounds more than me. It was big. It was heavy. It was hard for me to maneuver. It was battery operated . . . and the batteries were wearing out. That started a whole research project. Buy batteries for the trimmer I have or buy a new trimmer? Battery or corded? Which brand? How many amps? What size cut? It was enough to make a girls head spin.
I made a decision . . . it’s my yard and I need to be able to take care of it myself. Buy what you want. Buy what will work best for you. So I bought a little 4.4 amp, 13 inch cut corded trimmer. It’s the perfect size for me. It works like a charm. It was a birthday present to myself. And I have been as excited as a little kid to get a new string trimmer as a birthday present.
So today I decided I wanted to use the trimmer and at least edge the front sidewalk and the driveway before I went to a family party. Oh. My. Goodness. I had NO IDEA that edging the sidewalk could be so therapeutic. I didn’t have to worry about the battery running out. I did have to be careful about where the cord was so I didn’t cut it. But for 30 minutes it was me and the trimmer cleaning up the messy front sidewalk. It was heaven. It’s not pretty. It’s not perfect. I need to clean up a few spots. But it’s done. It’s not half bad for a first attempt. And I did it. By my self. Me. The girl who still wants to stay in bed under the covers some days . . .
I still get mad at the universe that Prince Charming wasn’t here long enough. But then I have days like today when I realize he was here long enough to help me realize that even though it sucks that he’s gone . . . I can do this stuff on my own . . . even when I don’t want to do it alone . . . even if I stomp my feet and curse every single step of the way. And now I have the desire and energy to actually do the stuff I hate . . . and even look forward to it a bit . . .
Does this mean I’m getting a little stronger? Does this mean it might not always suck this bad? I’m always gonna miss him . . . but maybe it will actually get a little easier?