...... Sweet.
Son #3 and I returned from our trip to Oklahoma to attend the first Oklahoma State football game of the season. We had a great time. And the Cowboys won.
To put it mildly.
It was a quick trip and we didn't really get to see too much of the campus, but it was great to be back there.
And I did look at some houses before we left.
It was fun to look at them and to think that I have the opportunity for some big changes in front of me.
I am blessed.
And I am aware of it.
I don't take anything for granted anymore.
It felt great to think about starting fresh somewhere ...... going somewhere where I'll be Janine ....... not Jim's widow. I'll be known for me.
I will miss my friends.
I will miss the family I have made here.
I will miss our home.
But I will not miss the pain of his absence here ...... in our home, at church, at the school, on the bike paths ...... everywhere I look.
As Son #3 and I drove home from the airport, I could feel the sadness creeping in on me.
The sadness of being here .... without Jim.
The sadness of being anywhere .... without Jim.
The sadness of returning home .... without him.
But then we arrived home .... and started opening up the mail.
I have a boatload of mail after being gone for a week.
Son #3 had some mail, too.
He opened up a bright orange envelope from OSU.
And he opened up the card inside that read, "Congratulations".
And then I heard the OSU fight song playing.
He's a Cowboy.
And I'm thrilled for him.
He hugged me and we high fived.
And then he went upstairs to update his Facebook and to tell his friends.
And I sat down and again wished that Jim were here.
I want him to high five Son #3.
I want him to be happy with me that, after five other children, we finally have one who will be a Cowboy.
I.
Want.
Him.
You can't always get what you want.
I get this. When I last went back to Northern California with some girlfriends, I had fun. But as the weekend wore on, I felt more worn, more tired, more irritable and I knew it was his absence causing it. I spent so much time traveling that area at his side. I wasn't supposed to be there without him, and when I was, it was hard on me...harder than I expected after 5 years. I don't know that I'll look for reasons to go back there anymore. It hurts too much.
ReplyDeleteI was 13 when my Dad passed. A year later my mom packed us up (me and a younger sister) and we moved. A year later we came back. Not to the same city, not to the same state. I get it now that I'm an adult and a mother myself. She needed to get away.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your journey.
Best to you always!