I didn\u2019t write this with the intention of sharing it. It\u2019s a page from my journal.<\/p>\n
But then I thought, maybe someone would read it and it would help them through something similar. Maybe connect them to their feelings in a way that allowed them to see what they\u2019re going through or perhaps someone they know is going through happens to all of us.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been procrastinating. I know it.<\/p>\n
This sounds so stupid, but painting the stairs hurts.<\/p>\n
The last time I did this exercise, Jerry was alive. He watched over me to make sure I didn\u2019t fall, or get dehydrated.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He encouraged me, and made me feel good about it. He appreciated my efforts and the work I put in. He was my cheerleader, and looking back now, he was the reason I got out there even though my knees were killing me, and did the work.<\/p>\n
I wanted the place to look nice when he came home, I wanted our home to be nice, neat, & safe. I wanted him to smile when he got home.<\/p>\n
Now that he\u2019s gone, it\u2019s hard for me to stay motivated. I have a hard time putting in the work for me alone. For so long it was about him, and I\u2019ve only recently realized how much was about him.<\/p>\n
I think of myself as a selfish person, it\u2019s jarring to admit that selfish as I might have thought myself to be, for him\u2026 I\u2019d go to any lengths.<\/p>\n
I guess that\u2019s how it is for all men, gay or straight, who love their partners, wives, and children. They claim it\u2019s the old cliche \u201cHappy Wife, Happy Life\u201d but it\u2019s more than that.<\/p>\n
Having someone you love and being a man that can\u2019t say the words very easily, means you express yourself in other ways.<\/p>\n
Expressions of love are; making the yard pretty, tending to the gutters so the lights of your life don\u2019t get wet, taking all the rocks out of the yard so the kids can play safely, making sure there\u2019s no place snakes or other animals can hide, so nobody gets bitten, scared or hurt.<\/p>\n
But for me there\u2019s another pain in doing this.<\/p>\n
When the coroner took Jerry out of the house that last time. Their gurney took chunks out of the stairs and paint.<\/p>\n
Sanding, filling, and painting over that damage feels like I\u2019m erasing Jerry. I\u2019ve been feeling like that as I\u2019ve gotten rid of his stuff. Which is one of the reasons I\u2019ve been so slow about doing it.\u00a0<\/p>\n
My heart is still broken, and doing this work that I must do, hurts.<\/p>\n
I know I\u2019m not erasing Jerry. But sometimes it feels like it. I try so hard not to let it bother me, to remember that he\u2019s in my heart. But seeing his stuff in the trash feels like somehow I, and the world is diminishing his value.<\/p>\n
Damnit! He was valuable, he mattered!<\/p>\n
If only to me… Maybe that\u2019s enough.<\/p>\n
I know that I shouldn\u2019t live in a museum of our lives, or even of only Jerry. It\u2019s not healthy to be lost in what was, when there\u2019s so much that might yet be.<\/p>\n
I managed to paint one rail before I was overwhelmed with\u2026 not grief but sadness. It\u2019s probably just as well. The paint is old, painting only one rail allows me to see if I need to replace it. I\u2019ll check the color match tomorrow after it\u2019s cured.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I kept expecting him to come out asking how it was going or telling me it was time to come in for a glass of water.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Through the years, I\u2019d be working on some project and sometimes, he\u2019d hand me a beer and inspect whatever I\u2019d been doing. Being encouraging or making helpful suggestions.<\/p>\n
When I gathered the painting supplies today, I found a bag of various paintbrushes he\u2019d simply bought and set next to the paints. I didn\u2019t know they were there. Inside that bag were exactly the brushes I needed today.<\/p>\n
He\u2019s still taking care of me. That makes me happy, and so sad.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I miss him beyond my ability to say.<\/p>\n
There are times when I think I\u2019m getting better and honestly I am. Then there\u2019s a bag of paintbrushes and tears are flowing down my cheeks.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I didn\u2019t write this with the intention of sharing it. It\u2019s a page from my journal. But then I thought, maybe someone would read it and it would help them through something similar. Maybe connect them to their feelings in a way that allowed them to see what they\u2019re going through or perhaps someone they … <\/p>\n