So it looks like I have survived this old year… the long and bumpy year of trying to make sure Robert is proud of me… trying to find some meaning… and to buck up… to patch together something from what’s left. But at the same time, in the back of my mind, I’m even now half expecting him to come home. That little life-saving device known as denial is, still, my secret companion.
Yes, I do get by, often with the help of a beautiful 4-year-old (“and a half” she informs me). Such an incredible gift Robert has given me… love, so pure and simple, and a nice perspective on our ‘circle of life’… (shout-out to the Lion King, and its nonstop play; summer of ’94, thanking you Kate and Sarah).
Robert has given me so many gifts, but I really wasn’t expecting a Christmas gift from him this year. And yet, on the eve of the 24th, there I was scrambling through his massive junk drawer in search of a certain little light bulb… and perfectly thrilled to stumble upon his Sir John A MacDonald ring… ‘lost’ for the last couple of years, I know for sure he would have never have put that in a junk drawer, even if he did replace it with a wedding band. Merry Christmas, Honey.
They tell me the fates will take you where you are meant to be… sometimes gently… sometimes kicking and screaming. Well, I’ve pretty much been kicking and screaming for this last year, and it’s not been producing much of a result. Then a gentle woman said it’s time for me to figure out why I’m here… why I’m still here without Robert… time to understand what I am meant to be doing… okay then Universe, feel free to open up now…. not just to me, but to everyone who is searching. Happy New Year friends.