Friday, July 5, 2013

Same Book, Different Chapter.

Late this afternoon, one of my guardian angels, my friend Sandy,  called to see how I was doing. She was one of the dear friends who kept me and my house going while the world was crashing down around me 20 days ago.

I told her that Glenn's special chair no longer brought me comfort; in fact it reminded me of his fairly violent passing from this life to the next and that one of my other G.A's (guardian angels), Misty, had come and helped me move it to her truck. She is going to take care of donating it or selling it for me. As we moved it, Glenn's loyal dog Abi started becoming extremely agitated and would yelp as if  in pain when I tried to contain her. That was fuel to the grief fire. I'm sure she could still smell him on the chair and was panicked as to why it was leaving our home.

After Misty left, I decided to move all the furniture around in our great room, so that I could view the world from a different perspective (as if I'm not already). When I told Sandy what I had done, she made this awesome statement that summed up my day today.
"Same book, different chapter."
How profound. Have you ever read a book that is divided into parts? That is how this feels.  As if I've finished with one huge chunk of the epic, and I'm turning the page to start reading the next section. Same book, different chapter.

Everything is so much the same, yet so different. It was weird to go to Costco by myself today; G never turned down a chance to browse there. I bought water and an immersion blender to purée my mom's food. A Costco trip for under $50. That in itself is weird. The free samples held no appeal. I stopped and canceled the appointment at the hearing aid department that he had reluctantly made last month. The words, "My husband died" is getting familiar, yet still sounds so new.
 Same book...different chapter.

My mom came over for the first time since Glenn's death, with my sister and brother-in-law. We had a casserole from the stockpile still in my freezer. So familiar to have them here, yet so different. There was someone dearly missed.
Same book, different chapter.