Climbing the Mountain
My life has taken a drastic turn. I do understand the ins and outs of life. Birth, life, death and taxes are all part of the human experience. Yet being widowed now was something I never counted on. Roy and I had big plans for our retirement. Roy had another 5 years with the company he worked for. I have 7 years to go. Roy loved vintage everything, cars, snowmobiles, furniture. We planned on getting a motorhome, taking our passion on the road. Instead, I am sitting on my friend’s sofa looking into my cup of coffee hoping to see something more than steam. Even the steam does not warm the chill that was left as the door closed and the police officer stepped off my porch. The officer came to inform me, my husband while riding his vintage 63 Ski-Doo fell through the ice on Houghton Lake during a Tip Up Town celebration.
My best friend Dani stood just outside my kitchen overheard the horrible news. She quickly scooped me up and took me to her place. I still haven’t caught my breath.
During the next few weeks, there was a flurry of activity, planning and executing the funeral, recovery of the snowmobile, friends stopping by to check on me. Now months later the chill has left yet numbness has settled in. My friends still call, instead of asking how I am they make suggests as to what I should be doing and who I should be doing it with. I try not to say anything to them I keep my thoughts to myself. My anger is just below the surface, I want to scream at them and tell them this is my life let me muddle through it. I have 2 male friends both are insinuating at the fringe of conversations letting me know they would like to be more than just friends. I am starting to feel boxed in. My girlfriends and family keep me in a box where their needs reside. The male friends have desires they need quelling.
For some reason, I feel more relaxed within my small blogging community. I can reach out without the fear someone will slap my feelings back or judge me for the impetuous feelings.
Grieving is a roller coaster ride with peaks and valleys. How can anyone understand? Even if they have loved and lost someone to the dark, they still could not walk in my shoes of grief. How dare they even suggest they know better?
Just beneath the surface of my moving forward is the ever present memory of my dear Roy. I know in my heart of hearts he would not mind if I move forward and enjoy what life God has blessed me with. My living my life does not mean I diminish what we had.
I have made the decision not to ease the fears nor gratify the needs of my family and friends. Those who truly love me will have to understand my timing, even my need to do it my way.
One of my blogging friends is heavy into music. You can ask him anything from rock and roll, grunge, jazz, blues you name it he has a large collection to choose from. His passion is reminiscent of the vintage passion Roy and I shared. I am enjoying learning something new. Mark has asked if I would like to go to Chicago for the blues festival and from there we would go to Detroit for their blues festival. I gave a resounding yes.
My friends and family have rebelled against my decision saying things that bite me to the core. Going so far as to accuse me of hurting people on purpose, my two male friends are disappointed and maybe even hurt I can’t help them with it. I never lead them on nor lied to them. On the surface, it seemed like a good match being that we shared the same love of Vintage cars, snowmobiles, and furniture. I could easily pick up where I left off the only difference, it would not be with Roy.
I need a fresh start and if that means adding a new passion to my hobbies and in my relationships, then so be it. How is that wrong I asked my best friend Dani? I think deep down she understands, but I her need is for me to stay the same and not change. Dani and her husband Bob would go on excursions with Roy and I. We all lost with the passing of Roy. I need to pursue this for me. See where it goes.
It is hard climbing a mountain when you have no idea where the summit is.