One More Day


I was driving home from an appointment today and the song "One More Day" came on. It's a great song, but as I was listening to the words, I got a little emotional. 

If I had one more day with Randy, I'd do and say what you'd expect, but there's so much more. I'd ask him where the cover for the upstairs hall light is, and why there aren't screens on some of the windows. He could show me how to hook up the propane to the fireplace (I'm a little concerned I'll blow myself up if I attempt it) I'd also ask him where in the heck the stupid belt buckle is, and if he knew what a $hit show his estate would turn out to be. I read that back and it sounds like I'm angry. Maybe I am a little bit - he's gone and there is still a lot to deal with in the land of the living. I'm also hurt, and learning how to heal.

Speaking of living, life goes on. My mom told me recently that I'm too young to spend the rest of my life alone. I agree, at least with the too young part. I recently went on my first date since Randy passed. Actually it was with someone I dated before I met Randy, so is that really a first date? 

I'm not entirely sure I know how to navigate this dating after your partner dies situation. How much do you talk about him? He knew that Randy had passed, and we talked about Randy and about his last relationship and why it didn't work. But it's not like Randy and I broke up and I act like he's dead to me - he is actually dead. His number and texts are still in my phone, pictures are still around, his clothes are still here (that's another story) and he is forever a part of this house. Randy's life and death are a part of who I am now. How do you explain that to someone, especially someone who knew you "before"?

I think watching someone you love go from being strong, independent, decisive - someone who was bigger than life - to someone who is totally dependent on you for everything, changes you, and not necessarily in a bad way. I've heard "life is short" so many times, and through the cancer diagnosis of loved ones and my own diagnosis, I know that it is. I hope that I live my life in a way that shows people that I know that.   

I'd like to think I'm still the wonderful, witty, charming and f'ing delightful woman I was, but I know that there are times when I'm not, and that's perfectly (and imperfectly) okay. 


 

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