A Sad Anniversary

For some time I’ve known I was going to write a blog on this, the one-year anniversary of my Vince’s death.  I think I had even roughed out a draft in my head. Which is a complete waste of time because I can never ever remember my perfectly phrased and clever composition when I finally sit down in front of the computer.

 

But when I opened my blog document and entered the date, I found I couldn’t get past it. No words would come.

 

So I forced myself to at least start.

 

And that’s what the past year has been. I’ve been forcing myself to start – over and over again. Every day.

 

It’s hard. And it’s painful. And I can’t believe I’ve done this for an entire year.

 

But what I’ve discovered is that I’m stronger than I thought I could be. And I’ve managed to accomplish a lot – even though I didn’t think I could get beyond waking up and brushing my teeth and walking the dog. Hair washing was optional. And the only reason I wore actual clothes instead of my pajamas every day was I figured the neighbors would start talking and worrying a little bit about my sanity.

 

In the past year, I cleaned out and sold my too-big house. And I’ve managed to make my smaller abode a nice haven that feels warm and welcoming.

 

Experts say one shouldn’t make any drastic changes in their life after the death of a loved one. Well, I’m apparently not one to listen to the experts.

 

Because moving – for me – was one of my better decisions. I’m completely and utterly relieved that I don’t have to worry about keeping my too-big house clean on the inside and repairing and replacing things on my own. Not to mention maintaining the outside – pulling weeds or planting anything. (If you know me, you know I do not like digging in the dirt!)

 

I knew I’d miss my neighborhood. The friends I’ve made there are special.

 

But, without Vince, I knew I needed to simplify my life.

 

Certainly, I didn’t accomplish this all on my own. I had a squad of friends, family and neighbors who were there to support me – in person or via calls, texts, cards and notes. The in-person ones were especially appreciated as they helped me focus as we pulled boxes and bins from every nook and cranny in that too-big house. And, believe me, there were a LOT of nooks and crannies!

 

My sister Denise dropped everything to be with me when she heard the terrible news about Vince. She also scrubbed the grout in my kitchen and later helped clear out and box up my many drawers, cabinets and closets. (And she could only shake her head at me as she pointed out the multitude of cleaning products I possessed.) My brother Andrew also drove more than 10 hours to be with me after Vince passed and helped me get through those first few incomprehensible days.

 

My friend Joe painted my incredibly high living room ceiling and lent support as I made arrangements at the funeral home. Sue carefully packed Vince’s clothes to donate to Dress for Success and helped pare down countless rooms and Debbie helped pare down boxes in the overflowing attic and the lower level kitchen. She also made many runs to donation centers for me. My brother- and sister-in-law came over numerous times to take things out of the house that I wasn’t going to use and helped it become a little less overwhelming to plan for the movers.

 

Once my house sold and I was now on a deadline, my neighbor Susan helped pack up the garage. And my neighbor Suzy (tried to) help me catch my cat Jinx and put her in the carrier as my final act in that house – but neither of us could catch her as she streaked from one floor to the next and back again. When I had a meltdown after Jinx (in her terror) scratched me, Suzy sought out reinforcements in the form of neighbors Barb and Dave, who came over wearing thick gloves and carrying a blanket. They calmly and efficiently coaxed Jinx into the carrier and put her in the car for me. And Barb tended to my wounds so I wouldn’t contract cat scratch fever and wind up in the ER hooked up to IV antibiotics.

 

I hadn’t planned to name people who helped me because I know there are many others that lent a hand or a shoulder or an ear – whenever I needed it. And I don’t want them to think their contributions weren’t incredibly appreciated. Because they were.

 

In the past year, I’ve learned that asking for help is not a bad thing. So often we try and do it all on our own – and we can make a mess out of things by doing so. At least that’s true of me.

 

So I’m grateful for the life lessons I’ve learned.

 

All this is not to say that I don’t desperately miss my Vince. I do. Every minute of every day.

 

Up until recently, I cried every single day. But then, I’m a big baby and cry easily. Sad movie? Check. Sappy song on the radio? Check. Little kid giving his mommy a weed he picked for her thinking it was a pretty flower? Check.

 

Many times they were silent tears. But sometimes it was a full-on ugly cry…so I was grateful that I was usually by myself when that happened.

 

There are some days when I don’t cry now. Or the utter sadness I feel doesn’t last quite as long. And sometimes I can get through an entire evening with friends without tearing up.

 

I used to think that meant I wasn’t being “loyal” to Vince. And I worried when someone said to me, “You’re more like your old self again.”

 

What does that even mean? I certainly don’t feel like my old self. I’m not sure I ever will again.

 

I feel like I lost part of myself. I can’t tell you how many times something has happened in the last year and my first thought is I can’t wait to tell Vince… only to remember I’ll never again get to tell him.

 

And I get very sad when I know that we will never plan for and take that dream trip to Italy together. I miss his companionship and know future cruises and vacations will seem…I don’t know – "lacking" – since he won’t be with me.

 

I miss the meals he lovingly prepared for us. Walking past the meat aisle at Costco can reduce me to tears when I see packages of chicken wings or racks of ribs. (He was the best cook!)

 

I’m so sad his grandchildren don’t get to Facetime with their Grandpa – and will grow up without him.

 

I miss the simple act of sitting next to him in the morning on the loveseat drinking our coffee and planning our day. And I miss seeing the look on his face when he told me he loved me. Because I felt loved. Every day.

 

Now I have to settle for pictures. And my memories.

 

Fortunately, I have a lot of the former, since Vince was the snap-happiest guy I’ve ever known. And we crammed an awful lot of memories in our short thirteen years together.

 

So I’m grateful for that, too.

 

I’ve said this before (and I’m sure I’ll say it again…!), but I know that I had true love with Vince. I hadn’t known what that was like before I met him. And many people never get to experience that kind of love. So I was incredibly blessed.

 

Now I just have to keep on going without him. And I have to revise my future from a “Vince and Jane” life to just “Jane.”

 

But I know I don’t have to go it completely alone. I have that squad, remember?

 

So my dear Vince? I wish you were here. What I wouldn’t give to spend more time with you. But I know you’re in a better place. And you don’t have to shed any tears.

 

I’ll close with this poem I used in the program for Vince’s Memorial Service:

 

Until We Meet Again

We think about you always,

We talk about you still.

You have never been forgotten,

And you never will.

We hold you close within our hearts,

And there you will remain,

To walk and guide us through our lives,

Until we meet again.

                            Author Unknown

 

 

Changes Afoot in Jane's Domain

I realized the other day that this past Christmas was the first year in my adult life that I didn’t send out a single holiday card or letter.

I had the cards. I had the stamps.

But I didn’t have the time.

I suspect that waiting until Christmas 2022 to update people about the goings on in Jane’s Domain in the months since my beloved Vince passed away is a little too far off.

So, folks, consider this my annual letter.

For one thing, I sold my house and moved. Yeah, I know. That’s actually a major thing and has consumed much of my time and energy in recent months.

I knew that the house Vince and I had happily lived in for nearly a decade was far too big and far too much responsibility to handle alone. And, honestly, I didn’t really want to live there without my Vince. Every morning I sat on the loveseat in our beautiful living room drinking my morning coffee without him made me incredibly
sad. 

So I spent several months decluttering and downsizing our belongings. And then I spent time cleaning, staging and making the place look as though nobody lived there.

Have you done this house selling thing recently? Egads. One cannot live in a house without daily messes – crumbs on the floor, damp towels hanging on the towel rack, dish soap and scrubbies on the edge of the sink.

So I made the bed every day as if a cranky drill sergeant planned to stop by and inspect by bouncing a quarter off it.

My solution to not having crumbs on the floor was simply not to cook or eat in the kitchen. Instead, I grabbed something from the fridge (those ready-to-eat salads were a lifesaver!) and took them in the car with me as Maggie Minx and I sat in various parking lots waiting for the showing to be over.

And my solution to never having damp towels on the towel rack was to never take a shower.

Oh, c’mon. I kid. I did take showers. Weekly.

No, really. If you must know, I took showers at night and then washed my towels right away so there was never evidence of a mere mortal living on the premises who required bathing.

As I did these things I smiled imagining what my parents would have been like if they’d tried selling their house while they were still living in it.

They would’ve pooh-poohed the idea of staging a home. They were fairly neat people, anyway, but they would never have removed the laundry detergent from the laundry room. (See? Nobody EVER has to do mundane chores such as laundry in this magical house!)

Mom and dad would have balked at removing family photos off the fireplace mantel or their wedding picture in its gilt frame that had graced mom’s dresser for over 50 years.

And if a realtor scheduled a showing while it was during their happy hour, I could just see them sitting in their family room with their glass of wine in hand telling potential buyers to ignore them. (But who knows? Perhaps mom and dad would’ve invited them to stick around for a drink!)

I, on the other hand, knew I wanted to show my home in the best possible light. And that meant that I had to polish and shine and scrub and clean daily – while at the same time continuing to pack and declutter and organize in anticipation of my upcoming move.

I was both grateful and sad when an offer was made on my house as I truly hated leaving my wonderful neighborhood. But I know that the friendships I made while we lived there will endure.

As my neighbor and friend Suzy has said many times through the years, “You’ve joined the dark side and you can’t escape us now!”

Hmm. That sounds much more malevolent than it was intended. She merely meant that once you become a neighbor, you’re always a neighbor. And a friend.

I love that.

The current housing market, while great for sellers, isn’t so great for buyers. And I didn’t want to deal with trying to buy and sell at the same time.

So I moved to a community in nearby New Albany. My apartment is a smaller 2 BR/2BA flat with a 2-car attached garage. Eighty percent of the residents here are 55 and older. So I don’t have to worry about the neighbor’s music being cranked too loud or wild parties keeping me from my beauty sleep.

Well. On second thought, I am not sure about the first thing. Older people can be hard of hearing. And I think my “beauty sleep” ship has long since sailed.

But so far I love living here.

Now when my furnace needs some attention, I can call someone who has to come out and fix it. And I don’t have to open my checkbook.  Bonus!

And when the snow needs to be cleared off the driveway, I don’t have to get out there with my handy-dandy shovel and get to work. The maintenance guy comes by with his snow blower and by the time I get up, it’s all been cleared.

This is comfortable for me. For now, anyway.

So that’s one major change in Jane’s Domain.

I’m sure there are other things that I will tell you about in coming weeks.

Stay tuned.

Oh, and Happy 2022, everyone. Stay safe. Stay well. And if you want my new address, let me know. Cards and housewarming gifts always welcome. (😉!)