Here is a summary of my July whacky adventures to date:
Attended Dallas and Darren’s wedding at the beginning of the month. The bride looked stunning, of course and the groom dashing. I discovered that making several “my husband is dead” jokes (especially ones about taxidermy) are a great way to alienate yourself from the vast majority of the people sitting at your table, even if it makes you feel less uncomfortable going to an event like this solo. I also learned that no matter how many jokes I cracked, my heart still hurt just as much when it was time to cut a rug at the end of the night.
Went camping in Pemberton with Ryan. Shockingly, I had a good time. This may have been due to the fact that we were there for the only two sunny days in July, or it may have had something to do with the fact that I was camping with someone who did all of the cooking as well as nearly all of the cleaning, set up, and take down. And who was responsible for starting, stoking, and putting out the campfire, and fetched all of the water, and who taught me how to toast a perfect marshmallow, which esentially involved me watching him toast them to perfection, then demanding they be placed into my grubby little fingers so that I could shove the entire thing into my mouth at once. Had anyone else witnessed this, I’m sure they would have deemed it a revolting spectacle and me a revolting specimen. Good thing nobody else was around.
Went to Clearwater to hug some people I love and to honor a woman who played a special part in my life. There’s nothing like a few “my mother is dead” jokes to make you feel less bad for coping with “my husband is dead” jokes. As long as I’m laughing, I’m as okay as I can be. It’s when I stop that the real hurt sets in and takes over.
Like the last few days. I got home, ran a few errands, then spent much of the last two days in a ball sobbing on the floor. On the plus side, I came pretty close to throwing my back out today, so at least I am now unable to remain in one position for an extended amount of time. Alternating crying on the floor with crying in a chair with good back support and crying while standing up really makes you miss your dead husband less.