I did not write an entry for Saturday… I remember looking at the clock yesterday afternoon and trying to convince myself that it was really only one week ago at that very hour, I was calling the hospice hotline to report to them that Marilou had passed away. In so many ways it seems like it has been ages ago, with all the agencies to notify, and trying to find some kind of new rhythm for my life… and then it seemed like it was only a few short minutes ago that I gone out on the deck and shook with the sobbing cries that came rushing from deep within me after watching her take her final breath. There are those experiences that seem to mess with our “internal clocks.” This has to be one of the worst.

Finding a new rhythm of life. It has to be a very intentional thing, making yourself make choices to carry on. I’m not sure what that really looks like yet, but I have asked the Lord to teach me what that should look like, and how He would like to use me in this new phase of my journey with Him.  I know that I want to be a blessing to others that I am with. I want to be a fun “old man” to be around…I want our / my house to be a place where people feel welcome to come, a place of healing, a place that is comfortable.

Another part of finding a new rhythm of life happened today, when Esther came over and we went through Marilou’s clothes and took them off the hangers and put them into black garbage bags to take them to Goodwill. I could remember when she wore each piece of clothing, that particular t-shirt she loved to wear… those pajamas I got her for Christmas…what year was that? It almost felt like a sacrilege to stuff them in those bags, but they are, after all, just “things.” I am not interested in making a shrine, and she would hate to think I was caring that much about just physical stuff. But I could smell her on each piece, yet I knew that was not her. An besides, as Esther pointed out… most of this stuff she bought at Goodwill, so it is just “going back to whence it came.” (laughing) Marilou was the consummate thrift store shopper. I was always amazed at how consistently she would come home after hours at the thrift store and proudly show off some name brand blouse or pants that still had the label on it, and  tell me how she only paid three dollars for it. So what came out of the bag, went back into the bags and we loaded up my car and pulled up to the Goodwill donation site. Then what was hard was watching the guy throw them into a plastic dumpster of some kind they had there… it seemed so…disrespectful.

And now that part of the closet is only filled with empty coat hangers, another part of a new rhythm of life.
Then Esther and I went down to her favorite coffee shop. right across from the lake. The place that Marilou and Esther used to and hang out together before they would take their walks around the lake.

There was that awkward moment when the owner who was taking our orders asked us, “Well, what did you do today?” The funny feeling I had in the pit of my stomach when I heard answer, “well my Mom passed away last week, and we were going through her stuff.”  so we talked and shed a few tears together as we remembered that my wife, her mom carried a lot of “stuff” from her childhood, and now was free of that “stuff.”
I was glad to hear Esther relate how she was so glad that in these past months, she really came into a good place, and really enjoyed having her Mom as her friend.

Another week starts in a few hours…I’ll get into the office, and try to get back into some kind of “rhythm” there.  More notifications to take care of… go to the veteran’s office and see about applying for veterans health benefits. Trying to straighten out the mess with Marilou’s car title. HA! another part of finding a new rhythm of life, I guess.

Hmmmm… I wonder what the “rhythm of life” is like where she is at now? Interesting question that I have no idea how to answer…just have to wait to find out