What a difference a year makes . . . painting and drinking wine instead of sitting in an ED waiting room for hours.
Paint and Sip
Tonight I did go with my trainer, and one other lovely lady from the gym, and painted a “Serene Sunrise”, while drinking wine. Well, I’m a lightweight, so I only had one glass.
I didn’t let any of my perfectionist tendencies get in the way of enjoying every minute of it. I’m getting a little bit better at being in the moment.
Somehow my first training session with Shannon came up. Her recollection was that I didn’t want to sweat or work very hard. I just wanted to be able to go up a flight of stairs without getting winded. She remembered thinking that I surely wouldn’t like working out with her.
I don’t remember that conversation that way, but to be honest, I don’t really remember that conversation very well at all. It was toward the end of January, either the week before or the week after what would have been our 10th anniversary.
Luckily I let my bossy trainer help me do what I actually needed, to work hard, and not what I thought I wanted. I only have two pair of jeans that fit right now.
I have a big stack of jeans that are too big now that I need to donate. I even went through the jeans up on the closet shelf that didn’t fit when I moved in. None of them fit.
In that stack were the jeans that Kraston helped me pick out at the Gap outlet in OKC the day before his second surgery. I had been putting off buying jeans that fit me after Eleanor was born. None of the jeans I had from before were big enough. I lost very little weight after she was born. So when we had some time after the Pre-Op appts and before we were meeting his family for dinner, he talked me into going shopping.
I had a foggy couple of moments earlier today when I realized those jeans didn’t fit.
The days just feel so long right now. This morning we got up early to get to the school by 7. I wore my outfit that my daughter and I picked out last night. It was cold. I just realized I didn’t write yesterday. I don’t really remember most of yesterday, so I guess I’ll just move on.
I drove my oldest, one classmate and his teacher to the Cherokee Strip Regional Heritage Center in Enid to learn a bit about pioneer life. He ground coffee beans, played with old school toys, applied for land run property, and washed clothes with a washboard.
A Year Ago Today
I took this picture of Kraston exactly one year ago, 11:51pm, in the Emergency Department at St. Francis.
I remember how he had been complaining all week about having “babysitters” when I was at work.
I took this picture with the express thought that I could show it to him later, so that he would know why I wanted to have someone with him in the afternoons.
He never woke up.
I never got to show it to him.
I don’t really want to go back any more right now to that day. I’ve covered it fairly recently in my post The Day I Became A Widow, so you can read that one if you haven’t already.
I wonder if year 2 will be harder than year 1. My therapist says I have done well these past few months, that I have done my grief work. So maybe it won’t be quite so hard as it is for some.
And I’m done for the night.