Maria, my neighbor, has been over before, but Anna and family, plus Maria, felt like entertaining. And I did it. I did miss David. I missed his voice last night -- and here and now, I admit that I listen to his very short outgoing message on our land line message machine to hear his voice. It is the only reason that I keep that phone plugged in. And the only reason I do not list it to sell on Craig's list. But last night I missed his comments, his getting up to start tea, and more. How many times to have taken that for granted. And of course I did after so many years. Now, I find that I can do it alone. Not as well, as we did it together, but . . . .
This morning phone calls, answering email, writing a short article for the newsletter, and a few errands. I hope I can get to research reading by the time Julia is in therapy.
Notes on grief: It -- the grief -- is. Still is. It has settled inside, still moving closer and closer to the core of me. But it is not always on the outside for all to see. I have practiced saying, "my husband died this summer" and I can now say it without a flinch. True sometimes that flinch, the catch of voice creeps up on me, but not right away. Still, too, when I am very quiet in myself, my grief bleeds out and my skin is clammy with it. But most days in most circumstances, I feel my energy returning, I cannot be sad all the time, I laugh more easily. Right now, I cannot wonder if I will ever be happy, totally happy again. If it happens, it is in a future that I don't know and cannot imagine. I am finding some peace, some coming to terms, some contentment.