Bill at BJ's December 29, 2018

The weekends are the worst. 

When Bill died I didn't think of what times I would especially miss him. I'm finding that it is the weekends that really tear me apart.

This morning I made the eighteen mile trip to BJ's Wholesale Club in Millsboro. This is usually a thirty minute trip. 

When Bill was alive I took him out for a ride almost every day. Usually these rides were nearby, mostly to Food Lion in Milton or the Rehoboth Beach area, all within a ten mile radius. 

These days I don't take a ride everyday. There is no reason to unless I have to buy more food or make my weekly visit to the Restore Thrift Store (Habitat of Humanity). 

The last time we took a ride to BJ's was about three months ago, before Bill really went downhill. I sensed at that time that was our last trip. As I was returning from BJ's, and looked over at Bill looking out his window at the passing scenery on Route 5, a wave of sadness enveloped me. I knew this was our last trip together. And indeed it was. 

I've been putting off going to BJ's again. This time the half hour trip would be without Bill. Do I need any more sadness today? I still have enough reminders of Bill that threaten to drown me in self pity and sadness. And to top everything else off today, the weather was windy, cold, cloudy and foreboding. No sunny day today to lift my spirits. 

I survived the trip. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Still, I was very lonely driving in my car by myself without the comforting presence of Bill in the passenger seat of our 2010 Red Subaru Forester.

I've been at loose ends all day. I woke up around 4:30 AM this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. Probably because I knew I was going to make this trip to BJ's, the first one since Bill died. 

Usually I can find enough around the house here to keep me busy and take my mind off of missing Bill.

Not today.

I just couldn't get myself interested in anything else. I could't work outside, usually a surefire way to deaden my mind to missing Bill. 

Not today.

I had an early lunch. Then an early nap. 

Usually I get up from my afternoon nap around five PM. Today I was wide awake at 2:30. My whole schedule is off. 

I called my friend Glenn in California on Zoom. He's three hours behind me here on the East Coast. We talked for the forty minutes free time Zoom enables me without signing up for a monthly bill. I wanted to talk a little more but Glenn hadn't had lunch yet. 

I can usually talk to Pat on FaceTime but he's on twin gigs with his band The 45's this weekend. He's unavailable. He called a few times to check in with me from his gigs but couldn't talk too long. 

There is still a lot to do here around the house but I'm just not in the mood for that activity. I decided to clean out some of my old e-mails. I'm ashamed to admit it but I have old e-mails dating back to 2014. Mostly to do with my Find a Grave and Ancestry.com inquiries. For some weird reason I was in the mood to clear out those e-mails. Deleting some, saving some. Then I came across an old e-mail from a friend's visit in 2017. Four pictures of Bill and a video with our friend. Looking at the happy Bill and our friend, I was again thrown into a deep funk. Will this never end?

Last night I was talking to a former friend and a co-worker who recently lost her husband. She called me, crying. I had talked to her earlier in the week and told her she could call me anytime if she got too down. Last night was bad for her. Friday nights. We talked and shared memories of our respective spouses. She met Bill years ago (2001) and liked him. Everyone who ever met Bill liked him. She told me after our talk that she felt so much better. And that was why I asked her to call me whenever she felt like it.

It's now 5:35 PM. I can take an early dinner. Perhaps go outside for a walk through the neighborhood. Clearing my head always helps. My walks now aren't so easy with my arthritis. But walking is good for me. 

The forecast for tomorrow is sun and temperatures reaching in the seventies. 

Hardest thing in my life right now folks. But there is always tomorrow.

I am thankful for those in my life now like Pat, Glenn, Don and Renee and my neighbor Bob M., who frequently checks in on me to see if I'm all right. Bob lost his wife over four years ago. He still visits her at the mausoleum nearby where her remains is above ground. I have Bill's ashes downstairs in his bedroom. I talk to him almost every day. I probably will the rest of my life. I am comforted knowing he is still with me. I promised him that.