It was July 23, 2018 when my wife of 42 years left this world for the next. At the time I had spent a week by her side while she lay in a coma. God had given me the time to prepare for what I was about to go through. A year ago last Sunday, on July 28, 2018, we laid Barbara to rest in a spot we had purchased when death was the furthest things from our minds in 1982. It was the next day as I sat in my house alone for the first time that a new life began for me. A life without Barbara.
As I sat there thinking the events of the last two weeks and the last 42 years over I realized I was not ready for this new style of living. I didn't want this new style of living. I wanted my Barbie back. The reality of her no longer being with me hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before. I did not think I was capable of taking care of things the Barb had. I did not know how to pay bills electronically. I did not know so many things about what Barb did during the day while I was at work to keep the house moving along in spite of her pain and fatigue.
I would learn though. I had no choice but to learn. I spent the better part of the year trying to straighten out her Social Security Disabled status and getting the billing for her hospital stay that week to the proper insurance companies. It was frustrating. It was hard. On top of that I was still learning the workings of the house. I had to learn the dog's daily schedule. I had to remember to clean things once in awhile. Apparently they just didn't get done by themselves. It was during this time that I came to realize how dependent I truly was on Barbara for so many little things. The time that it takes to get those little things taken care of add up quickly. I am so very thankful that Lori was there on a daily basis to help Barbara and to keep an eye on her. Lori allowed Barbara to do what she could so her self esteem would not drop but take over when Barbara could not do anymore each day.
It seemed that as each day passed without Barbara, my sadness and grief would grow. For the past several years when I would come home from work each day, Barbara managed to get out of her chair and her and Dutch would go to the front door, open it up and greet me as I walked up the sidewalk. I never realized how much that meant not only to me, but to Barbara as well. It was something that she could do to make my day a little better after a rough day at the office. Now as each day passed and I would come home from work walking up the sidewalk, the door would remain closed. Dutch would be on the other side of that door waiting for it to open. Each day as Dutch and I went through that new ritual I found myself missing Barbara just a little bit more.
As difficult as those things were, they were the easy part of learning a new life without Barbara. The biggest event that happened was three months and two days later when my father was also called home. When my grandfather and both my grandmothers had died, Barbara had been there to hold me up. When my Uncle Danial passed away, who I had been so very close to, Barbara was there to hold me up. When my sister Carol succumbed to cancer, again Barbara was there to hold me up. Now daddy was gone and I sat at home by myself alone with not only the thoughts of Daddy, but missing the support that I always got from Barbara. I went to Alabama to talk at dad's funeral service there and found myself looking for Barbara to talk to from the pulpit as I had at Dan's memorial service. Barbara was not to be found though and I had an extremely difficult time getting through that talk without her. It was the first time I had publicly spoken where I did not have an anchor to keep my emotions in check and I did not do very well. I found myself looking at three faces to try to be that anchor, my nephew Bo, my niece Kimberly Joyce and my great niece Haylee. However all three of those loving faces could not bring me the inner strength that the one face of Barbara had always brought to me.
I started writing this about a month ago. I set it aside for a time in order to take a hard look at the progress I have made since July of 2018. I think I have progressed fairly well.
Progress. It has been small and slow steps. I stop and think about it, and it is an entirely different life and lifestyle that I have never experienced before. It has been a learning experience.
I have come to the point where I can look at pictures of Barbara and recall the memory that goes along with the picture. I can remember it as a good memory and smile, enjoying the memory in the moment. However, these moments are also still filled with sadness but it is no longer a crushing sadness of realizing she is gone. It has morphed into a good sadness. I can smile and still miss her.
That is the biggest part of my progress I guess. Just being able to have memories and enjoy them a little along with the sadness.
I have begun to get out a little more instead of planting myself in the house. I am getting more comfortable going to the grocery store and buying for one instead of two. That is a more difficult than most people would realize.
Then there is the telephone situation. I have not changed our outgoing message. If you call me and I do not pick up, Barbara's voice will still explain that we are busy, please leave a message. I am not sure if I want to change these recording or not. On the one hand, I have a place that I can call and hear Barbara's voice whenever I want. On the other hand, I have no idea how to change the messages. This leads to my substantial progress in learning how to use the cell phone. This piece of equipment was totally foreign to me. I have learned over the last year how to actually use it in ways that help me get things done. I have learned how to text, and I use to despise texting. I have learned how to browse on it and how to use the calendar and clock.
The other side of progress on the phone is making phone calls. I am not good at this. I do not particularly like talking on the phone and I have a real problem making a phone call. I can answer a call much easier than placing a call. Anxiety over takes me when I try to do this. For all those years I had Barbara there to take care of things over the phone. She would make the calls and get things straightened out. Now I have to do that myself. I am getting better at it. I have learned that it is better to just jump in and make the call and most of the time things will work out. I used to procrastinate making a call until after it was too late to make the call. I had to learn how to do this fairly quickly as I took care of all of the paperwork involving Social Security, Medicare, and all of the hospital bills that were created for Barbara's care. I still freeze a little when preparing to place a call but I am much better at jumping in and just doing it.
I have progressed a tiny bit on going through some of Barbara's things and getting things in order by either getting rid of stuff or finding a proper place for what I want to keep. Going through her clothes is the toughest part for me. I have yet to make a dent in all of her outfits but I am getting there. I know what I have to do. I know how it will turn out. It is just difficult getting rid of anything of Barbara's. It is something that needs to be done. I know this.
Going through Barbara's clothes is one area where I need to make progress. The other area where I feel like I have not made any progress is coming home and not being met at the door. I find it fairly easy to leave the house but extremely difficult coming home. I still want to be met at the door and I feel the sadness come over me each time I arrive home. The house, other than Dutch, is empty. Everything is exactly as it was when I left. This is more or less an everyday thing that gives to me that cloud of sadness and loneliness. The house is quiet as I go through the motions of letting Dutch out, putting things away. or doing whatever needs to be done. When I come home from someplace, it is when I am the most lonely and sad. I have not gotten use to this feeling, to the quiet, to the emptiness. This is what I am trying to work on now.
So I have made a lot of progress in little steps, but I have a long ways to go yet. I still love her and miss her and I always will. Changing your style of living after 42 years is not an easy thing to do. The best progress I have made is being able to enjoy the memories. We had a lot of good memories made during our time together. I will always cherish those times.
