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Today marks one year since my husband passed away. It’s interesting that I feel even worse. I wonder when a person starts to feel a little better after the loss of someone who was a part of their life for two-thirds of that life?
To keep busy this year, I went back to teaching school again. It worked great because teaching elementary school is an all-consuming job when you’re in the middle of it. But then, I get home, and — yup, he’s still dead. It’s interesting that life just keeps imposing itself on you even when you feel that your existence is on pause. The trash has to go out to the curb. The car still needs gas. Your stomach growls reminding you that food is needed again. I do the laundry, I clean up the kitchen, I wash my hair, and I water the plants. The world is turning, and I am living in it still, but it often feels like I’m just watching my life from a distance.
One beautiful thing about this date is that the moon is full tonight, so I know I can go out there and admire it and laugh knowing that My Sweetie is up there admiring it with me. The moon is my new symbol of him. Last Saturday, I sold the motorcycle. Finally. I found a person who appreciated its craftsmanship and wanted to ride it, not just pick off the parts. As I was waiting for the fellow to arrive at my house, I also used a primitive pinhole camera to check out the lunar eclipse. The day began to dim, the way my mood was dimming, because I was selling a very sentimental item. Then, the moon continued in its path, allowing the sun’s rays to shine down uninterrupted.
When I considered what had caused this eclipse–the moon– I relaxed. Just as I have learned to smile and feel comfort when I view the full moon, I felt okay to continue on with the sale of that Shovelhead chopper that I’d sat on for the past 39 years, snuggled up behind My Sweetie. That eclipse, on the day I was selling the bike, was as if he’d said, “I’ve checked out the buyer, I’ve checked out the bike. Go ahead. It’s a good thing to do. Move on…I am.”
Soon, the sun returned to its bright, mid-day state of glory. We loaded the motorcycle onto the trailer, and I waved as he drove it off to its new home and new life. I’m in a new life, too, and eventually I expect I’ll figure it out. Probably. Maybe. Right now, I really don’t like it.
This photo is from 1974, the year we were married.
This photo is from 2019.
Yes, different bikes, but the second one we got in 1987, so it’s the one that had so many memories involved.Published in