There was nothing that would so thrill me, in my past travels with Handsome Husband, as a new day of travel dawning and an open road in front of us. Packing up the car, waiting for the moment when he’d be behind the wheel, I’d be shotgun as co-pilot, and he’d turn the key in the ignition. Oh, the thrill of that road in front of us!
This evening, I’m leaving Arizona. Well, at least leaving my daughter’s part of it. We’ll spend the night in Flagstaff and drive to Santa Fe, New Mexico tomorrow, to attend my niece’s wedding. All of which is exciting-there will be many of my family there whom I haven’t seen for quite some time. Or, it would be exciting to the old me. Oh, how to explain my emotions these days, that can be all or nothing and everything in between!
Before I can even be in the excitement of seeing family, I have to muck my way through the panic and anxiety that turning the key in the ignition means to me now. What I have to do first is say goodbyes. To our older son Snads, who has been solid in his support since Handsome Husband died, gifting me with words spoken to him about me from his dad. Words that brought not only comfort to me but brought HH’s love for me palpably into the room as Snads repeated his dad’s words.
Each move I make since Handsome Husband died (and there have been 5, big and small), instills in me a sense of panic. Each move is further away from my physical time with him. Each move has taken me further away from his planning for us and brings me closer to him no longer being a part of my life. He’d made reservations for us for Santa Fe, which I cancelled early on, due to my change in finances; those were the last reservations he’d made. I so looked forward to the wedding with him, he and I holding hands through the service and thinking back to our own wedding 23 years ago, thinking about our love and our life now, dancing with him at the reception…
I feel so rootless. Homeless in a way that never even occurred to me in the last 4 years. Bouncing around from one place to another. I suppose this feeling is nothing more than a reflection of what is truly going on internally. I’m lost. That’s it plain and simple. The man who anchored me to life, who owned my heart, who was my home, as I was his, is gone.
I’m a perfect example of not grasping something until you’re in it. I’ve grieved hard before, with some very close relationships, but this death of my spouse thing is as if I’ve never grieved before. HH’s death affects my life in every way, practically, financially, emotionally, physically, verbally-every way. He was in my every day, every moment, every way, even more so in our last 4 traveling years. So I know all that I’m feeling is normal and I guess that could mean something to me, but it takes too much energy to contemplate what’s normal and what isn’t, and I don’t really care.
All I know is, I’m leaving Arizona and I need to be aware of my breathing and I need to believe that somehow, somewhere out there, Handsome Husband is waiting for me again and he’ll find me.