Alicia Lopez’s Musings

Archive for November 2010

Today marks the twenty first month since my hubby’s passing.

It is the beginning of a ritual of counting months that started on that day.  I thought that if I could survive that first month, I would be on my way of learning to live alone.  It has been a very long process, and sometimes I wondered if I could make it.

The human body and mind has a resilience unmatched by none.  In the face of adversity and loss, it is still able to function, albeit at a lesser pace, but function it does. Look at me, twenty one months later I am still around, and still kicking.  The sense of loss never leaves, but I have learned to live with it.

I have learned that I can still share thoughts and ideas with my hubby, in the silence of  our home which we both loved, and which is filled with memories; the Greek fishermen’s caps which he wore constantly, his collection of music, even his eyeglasses which he kept by our bed,on a funny big nose stand.

When I leave the house, those memories stay behind, to be supplemented by normal everyday occurances.  My job keeps me busy, my mind expands with the meeting of new people, and new occurances.  I have never lost my sense of humor, but it seems to be rejuvenating.

I look forward to the coming holidays; our village has begun to decorate the main street with dazzling silver boughs and the local merchants have placed the white shimmering lights on their stores, and as the song goes, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas”.

For the first time in several years, I will have my three sons here with me for  this weekend; only the sons without my daughters in law .  It will be different, but nice. 

Next week, my daughter, son in law, and grandson from Dallas will be here for the Thanksgiving holiday,  the son who lives here and my small grandson will be present also; my cup runneth over.

The past holidays are just that, past and gone.  Time marchs on, and I have to march along with it.  So, start those drum rolls, begin the beat, and watch me strut.

Hasta la Vista

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could turn the clock back, just like we do every fall?  Of course, you would have to choose how far back to go, an hour, a day, a year?

In my fantasies, I would go back at least ten years, when my hubby was still in good health, when he and I thought we had the world in our hands.  We had good jobs, good health, a fantastic bevy of grown children, and we could look forward to growing old together.

Of course, old was not a word my hubby believed in.  He always thought and acted young, and I was swept along with him.  We were so sure we had earned the place where we then stood, and we enjoyed every minute of it.

Then was then, and now is now.  You cannot turn back time, and only memories keep it alive.  I have plenty of those, and sometimes when I’m not even thinking, they crop up at unbidden times.

For example, I found tears in my eyes when I witnessed my wonderful boss busily opening a package which contained a new tool he had purchased, and it reminded me of the joy that my hubby took in any new tool he acquired.  I had a lump in my throat when he came back from a trip and handed his wife a gift he brought to her; there were many times in my life when I had the same happiness of knowing I was always in my hubby’s thoughts.

I find myself envying an older couple holding hands; that could have been us.  I have gone up to total strangers and told them how lucky they are, and not to take anything for granted.

With the holidays coming up, more and more memories will appear, I do not dread them; I even look forward to enjoying most of them. This year the traditional Thanksgiving will not happen, as two of my children who live in Dallas cannot come to Ruidoso to be with us, and the son who lives in El Paso will celebrate with his wife’s family this year.  I will still have two children and their families to keep me company.  Two is much better than none.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Hasta la Vista