grieving

I am going through pre-loss grieving.

For a bit I thought I thought that one up, but it is more common than I might wish, I guess.

As I write, I am sitting across from my beloved. She is asleep as she is most of the time now. Her jaw is slack, her eyes are sunken, her eyes are closed. She does not look alive really.

Yesterday we bought her a new bed, one that will be more comfortable for her and one that is comfortable enough for me so I can rest with her. When this is all over, I can take the bed to Idaho, maybe. 

I went to a wood wind concert last night (about 100 great collegiate musicians doing wonderful music). When I returned Miriam was in bed and Arline told me that she had been very upset, crying, even shouting at times. She was not married and “who are you?” When I got there, I took my shoes off and laid down beside her, snuggling under the other half of the top blanket.

“Who are you?” “I am David your husband of almost 57 years.” “I married you on June 10, 1956 and that we had been married ever since. “Then why has it been so long since you have been here?”

“I was with you all day today.” 

“Ohh.”

Finally, she settled down to sleep and I got an hour early sleep lying beside her. 

It was good and not so good at the same time.