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5:37 A.M. - Sunday, Jun. 24, 2007
That crap happens to other people

"You must be the change you want to see in the world.

Mahatma Gandhi


He has been gone now five days, I must be na�ve but the day he told me he was leaving all day at work I knew he wouldn�t.

One does not walk away from a life half finished, their stuff laying in piles everywhere. One doesn't leave knowing their spouse/life partner for the last 17 years hasn't fully recovered from surgery. That crap happens to other people, not me.

That goodbye day at work felt as if it was a never-ending shift, not just 12-hours. I wanted to leave but one can only miss so much work before they don't "need" you any more.

On the way home, I picked up the mail and there were two cards for hubby from his daughter and granddaughter, I smiled knowing this would make him happy.

When I came through the door I still felt his presents, it was as if he was coming through the door any moment. His ash try was filled to the brim-overflowing, bed unmade, dishes in the sink, trash needing to be taken out, the table cluttered with a mass of his little don't forget notes, empty beer cans lined up on the porch, and his half drank glass of tea in the frig.

Two days later he called, he had made two stops because he was tired and needed the rest; he had just got to his home town. Words were strained conversation short; he said he would call the next night. Nothing�still no call. I am not surprised, weekends were always an open invitation to drink, even when not working all week�hey it's the weekend.

I stopped by my dads after running around town on one of my two days off, conversation strained. I had been able to talk to my dad now no words came. I left after an hour, he was busy burning brush in his yard; I was tired from running around and knew I had to work 36 hours in the next few days. He said he hoped I would stop by on my days off; he was too busy to come to my world. I wondered what part of my working full time/overtime and now trying to put back together seven years of a place under construction didn't fall under I might have a few things to do too.

I felt irritable, normal I suppose. It has always been this way, if I wanted to see my dad I had to go to his place, he wouldn't' come here. I thought it was my husband Dad was quietly avoiding. Silly me, funny how your mind finds a reason for little hurts just to find out you was wrong.

I don't know how I feel at this moment in time, just going on auto pilot. I don't want him to come back I finally got his mess cleaned up.

One day at a time, I suppose, one day�

Sandyz

 

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