Insight of the Week

Roger and I really used to enjoy home improvement projects.  Every weekend was jam-packed.  Now I realize it wasn’t about the creativity of making a beautiful environment, or the satisfaction of a job well-done; it was just about being together. We were best friends.  We could have been working on a home improvement project, or exploring Mars.  It wouldn’t have made a difference as long as we were together.

Since he died, I’ve gone through the garage and basement as well as every closet and cupboard.  I’ve cleaned, sorted, organized, given away things and re-stored the remains.  I’ve put a new coat of paint on every surface.  I’m exhausted from working so hard and life isn’t getting any better. These organized closets and new wall colors do not bring me joy. I’ve just realized that no matter how hard I work to make our home nice, this frenetic activity is never going to bring him back.  Our home is never going to be “our” home again.  There is nothing I can do to this place to make it feel right.

I have been obsessively filling my time and keeping myself busy so that I wouldn’t have to think about what’s next.  The dawning of this realization has been like Roger kicking me in the butt.  Every hour of effort in perfecting this “home” is time wasted. 

But if I stop working so hard, there is only the vacuum.  Staring into the chasm is probably the most frightening thing I’ve ever done.