The Red Bag

To say my life has been erratic doesn’t even begin to explain all the ups and downs I have had.

Some days are better than others, and everything reminds me of my sweetheart. The other day I was cleaning up and feeling better than normal then I came across the red bag. The red bag that I had put mail in so that I could make my husband feel he was still part of his world.

If you have been through this disease, you know that at some point you have to help your loved one find a purpose or connect them to their world. My husband was a business man, Red Bagand he was all about doing business dealings, handling finances, etc. So I took this red bag and filled it with mail that I would usually throw away and at certain times of the day, I would ask him.

Do you want to open the mail?

And of course he would say yes,  I would hand him this bag and he would sometime go for hours  opening the mail put it into stacks, etc. He also would play cards (what he felt was a game) so I would give him a deck of cards, and that would keep him satisfied for a while.

When I found this red bag while cleaning the other day, it floored me. Tears just flowed, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t want to throw it away – but it wasn’t like this was a good time in his life so what should I do?

It was just the fact that he had touched the bag and used the mail so often, it was almost like his essence was still there. I was plunged back into the world of. I cannot live without him. How am I going to ever be happy again?

It has been nine months, and the wounds are still open and raw. In fact, it seems like the more time goes by the realization that I am not going to see him in this life floors me even more.

Thank goodness for the time I have relief. When I am up at my kids or hanging with some friends who help distract me from this reality.

Learning to live a life for myself is really daunting. I am learning a lot, but I have much farther to go.

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Understanding the Pain

It is hard to understand the pain if you have not been through it – my house is beautiful but so empty. It was built for us – and now there is no we just me…

I have been staying up at my daughter’s house quite a bit and really love being with my Alone Symbolismgrand-kids. But I always feel I have to rush back home but for what?

I realize that I have no one that is waiting for me, I know intellectually but still feel that tug of my husband waiting at home for me.

He loved me that much.

He wanted nothing more than to have me buy his side. It made him happy and how can I ever replace that type of love. From a man who didn’t show his emotions on his sleeve. From a man who had a hard time trusting or giving up control of his own emotions.

His eyes would light up when I came into the room and a big smile came across his beautiful face.

We obviously had our problem and some that were really difficult but we weathered them all because our love was just that strong.

 

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Life Moves On

Life moves on …

I would think the pain would dissipate, and at this point I could go on with my life with the understanding that there is no other way but to move on. I was wrong it feels like I am going backwards after eight months I miss him more than ever.

Sunday morning I woke up to the memories of how we use to spend our weekend and on Life Moves OnSunday, we would watch all the show about politics IE: Meet the Press, Fox News Sunday, etc.

We have a huge TV that my husband put on our bedroom wall, and so we would just cuddle and lay in bed.

When I got up, I would make coffee and breakfast and once in a while  my husband would talk me into going to church with him…

I was looking through some old journals and found a couple of poems he wrote for me I am going to share one with you today. Now keep in mind English was his third language,  it is so beautiful…

1995

You have always been very warm and caring
You have always been very sweet and giving

That is why you are always so very beautiful whenever I see you.

You look like a dream of a poet.
Like a blossoming rose
Like the talk (sparkle) of a diamond
Like the candle light in the church

Whenever I see you.

You look like the morning light
Like the sunshine of winter
Like a red delicious apple
Like a cold breeze bringing Tricia cologne

I love you!

Twenty-three years ago, he wrote this to me; I am so glad I found it. It makes me happy and sad all at the same time…

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