Day 2 without my Sweetie Pie.

Day 2 without my Sweetie Pie.

Doing better this morning. It is so hard not to feel lonely. This is our home, we spent a life time living here. We are the only ones, we watch our home being built, we are the only ones that live here. There are no mixed memories of families that lived here before us, it is only us. 

Here is where we decided to stay, to fight, to love, and grow old together. And now she has left to a grander home, and is waiting for me to come to her. 

I love my friends, especially those who haven't been where I am, and want to tell me how I should be grieving. I try to tell them that I'm doing fine, that I know I'm suffering the loss of my Sweetie Pie, yet, I'm not doing it the way they think I should be doing it. 

The nurse, my Cali youngest, understand me laying on the bed where she laid, the cries of agony, of loss, of loneliness. They say that I should get help, get counseling, because I'm not doing it the way they think I should be doing my grieving. 

Little do they know, I have a group of men that have been where I am now, that I've heard their stories, their broken hearts call out to me, and I am now leaning on them. I will see them this Friday and rejoice. 

Saturday

I was on my morning meeting, when someone mentioned that the daffodils were coming up. Earlier this year, I'd cleaned out a section of flower bed and transplanted our Irises to get more sunshine so they would flower. Sweetie would have a bouquet of Irises. I look out, and thought she would never see them. 

The water works started again. Then I thought, I'd still cut and bring them in, in a vase, with her pictures around them. I would have the joy of her enjoying her flowers. Take joy where you find it. 

After the meeting, I had a coffee and pastry date with old friends. What a welcome joy they were. We spent 2 hours talking about our time with Sweetie. Sharing memories, talking about her kind spirit. You see, they have a ministry to the handicap. She is in a wheelchair, and work with a national ministry just for people like her. 

We volunteer to help in a summer camp, and the memories that we talked about. We smiled, we laughted, we expressed joy for her being with us. Then we prayed, and I left. 

Golf, shopping, walking the mall, ended with a meeting. 

When I was home, that is when my friend called, wanting to make sure I was OK. He didn't understand when I told him I was laying on the bed where she laid. He thought it was weird, that I needed to see someone so I could grieve "properly". Love their intentions, it is better not to defend the way I grieve, so I let it go. 

Call my daughter in Cali, tell her about my day, and what I'm doing. She understands, as a matter of fact, she encourages it. Nice to have someone that understands that I'm still working on closure. I have this bed for one more night, and then another part of her will be gone. 

As we head towards the freeway leading to a new and different life, Driver is humming something that sounds familiar. It is my walking song to Sweetie. Asked why? Because she will always be walking with us from now on. Forever in my heart. Sweetie Pie, Oh Sweetie Pie. And she is my Sweetie Pie today and forever. C'ya, Luv Ya, and God Bless. Arthur.