They Say that Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fungus...
Every time I drop off a load of stuff at Goodwill, I take a moment to think about Kellie. The idea came from my dad, and it’s been a good practice for me. Not because I feel guilty and am asking for forgiveness from her, but because these were largely things she bought for us, and I want to spend a little time thanking her for getting us those things that we needed and loved and used and enjoyed.
It’s true that we have a lot of things we don’t need, as I think most people do. It’s also true that one person needs fewer things than two, so that’s what the downsizing looks like most of the time for me. If I know something was just meant for us to do together, or if I know something is more relevant to two people than one, or if I know there’s something I have no interest in but that she liked, then it’s fair-ish game for selling or donating. I would rather someone else get use out of it than have it sit in my office or bedroom or garage or basement. I also don’t think anyone could look at the current state of my house and call it minimalist—I still have plenty of stuff, believe me.
Anyway, I dropped off a few more items at Goodwill today, and this was the first time I’ve been able to do that, give my moment of silent thanks to Kellie, and then drive home without sobbing the whole way. That’s what progress looks like to me, today.
Progress also looks like shredding oh-so-many old piles of paper in my office. None of those are Kellie’s fault, they’re mostly old private practice things that I should have gotten rid of anyway but have instead allowed to tower over me for the last three years. It feels really good to be getting rid of my things that I’ve meant to handle for a long time as well, even though Coco absolutely loves to try and gnaw a hole through every single trash bag I’ve ever filled (and when that trash bag is full of cross-cut paper, it causes a relatively huge mess). She hasn’t learned her lesson, and I continue to tolerate that behavior from her, because we all have things we’re working on, right?
My parents and their pup will be in town for a few days later on this week, and I’m happy to see them. Coco (and Ivy, but especially Coco) is going to be VERY happy to see them. She is the most extroverted person in my household by far, and she adores every single person who comes to visit. And every single dog, so she’ll be excited to see Bruno again as well.
I was happy to finally get return emails from two of the three widowers I was matched with via the pen pal program I signed up for. We’ll see if those are conversations that we can keep going for the long-term, but I’m still glad that I wasn’t just ghosted by all three of them.
It’s been 82 days since Kellie died. We’re only two days away from three months. Three months of more tears than I can count, three months of re-learning everything in my entire life, and three months of loneliness and isolation and love and joy and heartache and more tears. Jeez. When I put it that way, I guess it’s been a LOT.
This plant was planted after Kellie died, and it’s flowering now, which really drives the point home in a super tangible way. I miss her more than I can handle, more often than I’d like. Like right now, this very second, for instance.
Today was a busy day, and tomorrow is shaping up to be one as well. I’m glad to have my writing retreat coming fast—that’s this Friday/Saturday/Sunday, and I can’t wait to see what project I end up working on, given three days of mostly uninterrupted time and space designed just to help me write something, anything that speaks to my heart. I have at least six or seven projects that are bouncing around my brain, and I could pick any of them up and run with it. Like I keep saying, stay tuned!
I’m glad that today is over, because it felt more draining than I would have liked. Those two-hour Faculty Senate meetings are sure a ton of fun.
XOXO,
Matt