52 Years, and Unexpected Guests

 

52 years.  46 celebrated with him.  6 on my own.

I think I'm getting a little better with practice.  I look back on my posts - things like having to sleep on the couch again.  It doesn't mean that it hurts any less, just that I'm getting used to the pain.

I did have a moment when I put my dinner in the oven.  I wanted to give myself a treat to celebrate so I got a Cornish hen.  It wasn't until I was prepping it that it hit me that Bob didn't like them for some reason (quite possibly because they do resemble the little bird they once were, unlike, say, a fried drumstick).  In previous years I bought a small steak to celebrate, in his honor.  But I didn't think about that this year (in my defense, I had to do my shopping around RedBug's surgery so I was distracted).

A friend was kind enough to text that she was thinking of me, and said I could tell her a Bob story if I liked.  The one that came to mind was from when we were living in Tennessee.  We had gone to the movies (the Christopher Reeve Superman) and when we came out he asked if I wanted to take the short way home, or the long way.  I was confused - we lived only a couple of miles from the theater, and there was only one road.  When I said there was no long way - he said, oh yes there is.  And he started driving in the opposite direction.  The long way turned out to be the 125 mile loop through the beautiful Land Between The Lakes National Forest.  At some point we got out and sat beside the lake for a little while in the moonlight.  If I remember correctly, we got home about 2 in the morning.

People keep reminding me that I have memories.  But honestly?  It's not the same as having companionship, bantering, laughing, loving.   I make do.

I've had unexpected guests twice this week.  Saturday I had to go shopping (usually I do that after work on Friday but RedBug was having his surgery).  When I got home, I left my glasses in the car as usual.  When I'm at home, I just use readers when necessary.  But when I first take the glasses off my eyes are a little fuzzy, so it took a moment to try to figure out why my front door looked a little different.

I politely asked him to move his tail so that I could unlock my door.

Then last night I heard something rattling around in the kitchen, and went to see what the cats were up to.  This was on the counter.

I'm assuming that's Maytag, the opossum that I released (and the one who was banging on my door at 1:00 a.m. a week ago).  He's always been a little on the bitey side, so I wasn't about to look under his tail to check his credentials.  I gave him a handful of grapes, and when he was finished I used a broom to suggest that maybe he might want to go outside (I was wrong - he really didn't, but I insisted)

The big question is:  How the heck did he get inside???

Sometimes I realize that I am the person that I wanted to be when I grew up.  Amanda asked how high I jumped when I saw the snake on my door.  The answer was - not at all.  I said hello, and then "mind if I move your tail just a little so that I can get my key in the lock?"

Neither did I jump when I walked in the kitchen and saw Maytag on the counter.  Just a "Hi - what the heck are you doing here?  And would you like a grape?"  Because doesn't everyone who finds an opossum on their kitchen counter offer them a snack?

And speaking of snack - my dinner is ready.

Happy Anniversary, my love.  As always

I love you

I miss you

Thank you