Post-Thanksgiving blues

Over the past three days, I've been surrounded by my good friends as we celebrated the holiday. It was emotional at times, but I survived. Now that I'm back home, that lonely feeling has surfaced again. This was a very difficult Thanksgiving for me; I missed Dennis terribly, even though overall, the four-day weekend was pretty good. We held a moment of silence for Dennis and Bernie (another long-time member of the Thanksgiving Day crowd) before we sat down for the meal. It wasn't exactly silent for me as the tears were flowing, but I think you know what I mean. Even though there were fewer people than we've had at the last few gatherings, the food was good, the company was good, and the day was worthwhile, albeit painful—at least for me.

Friday, Saturday and this morning, I was up in Angwin, California (in Napa Valley), visiting an old friend and her partner. It was nice getting out of the city for a couple of days. Sure is quiet up there! We just hung out, visited, ate, watched college football all day Saturday (go Blue!) and had a nice visit. But now that I'm back, the house just feels so empty. Which just goes to show you, even though good friends have helped get me through this ordeal I've been on this year, friendship only goes so far. They can't all come and stay with me. And the empty house just makes missing Dennis even more difficult. Not only was I missing him, I had my first Thanksgiving without Mom being around. Even though over the past 30 years I have not had Thanksgiving with her, it was very strange not being able to talk to her that day. I did speak to my sister, who was having a pretty difficult day herself. She was Mom's caregiver over the past eight years, and it was rough on her. We cried together over the phone. One more month and it will be one year since he passed. Difficult times ahead.

Thanksgiving

It's my first Thanksgiving in 31 years without Dennis, and the tears have started already—and it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet. I'll be going to Jim and Greg's today like we've done for the past eight years, and the people that will be gathering there will help me get through the day. I'm very grateful for my friends and family and for all they've done for me—this year in particular. Last year was difficult as I watched him slip away, but this almost one year of grieving has been even more difficult. As hard as it was to watch him slowly fade away, at least he was here. And I know it wasn't easy for him; after all, he was the one who was dying. And I wouldn't want him back in the condition he was in at the end. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. This was one of our favorite times of the year. That's another reason why it's so difficult. Even though he hated pumpkin, he would make the pumpkin cheesecake that we always take; he'd even make my pumpkin/cranberry bread every once in a while if I didn't have time to do it. And every Thanksgiving morning, he'd make his egg bread. The recipe was for two loaves, but he'd braid them together to make one very large loaf, put an egg wash on it and sprinkle poppy seeds over the top. It not only looked good, it tasted wonderful.

Other than the bread (he didn't get a chance to teach me how to do that), I did all the baking myself this year. I made the cheesecake last Sunday; it's been in the refrigerator since then. It looked great coming out of the oven, so I'm hopeful that it will taste as if he made it. I also made the pumpkin/cranberry bread; took half a loaf to my next door neighbor Matt, who has been a great neighbor for the past 15 years; took a whole loaf to the office and gave the recipe to two of my coworkers, who want to make some of their own. The only item left is the green bean casserole, which I will bake so that it comes out of the oven just before I leave to pick up Carl.

Once again, thanks to all my friends and family who have helped me get through this most difficult year.

Grief group reunion

I received an email the other day from Diana, one of the women from the grief group I did earlier in the year. She was trying to arrange a lunch but she was having trouble reaching the others because it appeared she had some incorrect email addresses. I passed along what I had, she reached Jan and Judy, and the four of us had a wonderful reunion at a restaurant near Golden Gate Park called Park Chow. Even though we all admitted that we are struggling with the upcoming holidays, we all looked happier than the last time we saw each other at the final session of the grief group.

Jan had been on a trip to Europe, mostly in and around London, but she also went to Spain and Majorca. Her traveling companion is her best friend Alex, a gay man she has known for years. She said they had a wonderful time. Alex kept teasing her that he was looking for "Miguel" so Jan decided she'd start looking for "Fernando" and it became a running joke with them. When we left the restaurant, Jan exclaimed, "Keep your eyes open for Fernando and let me know if you see him." That got a laugh out of all of us.

Diana had gone through her ankle surgery and moved to Novato, though she wishes now she hadn't moved that for north. Judy has kept herself busy working temp jobs, never knowing where she'll be on any given day, but she loves it. Her funniest story was about working at the Oracle convention that was just in San Francisco recently. As she said, "They paid me $12 an hour to greet people at the top of the stairs and point them in the direction of where they were heading. Not exactly college graduate work, but I did have a good time."

I told them about Mom passing away in September. None of them had been aware of that, though Judy had seen on my blog that I had mentioned that Mom was taking a turn for the worse; she had not seen the updated blog with the news of Mom's death. I told them of my struggles during the month and the difficult time I was having adjusting to the upcoming holidays without Dennis, the first time in over 31 years that he hasn't been with me.

But overall, the lunch was a success and we did have a very nice visit with each other.

Holiday season blues

With the upcoming holiday season approaching, one of the most difficult parts about the whole time period, besides the fact that Dennis is not here physically, is the fact that this time of year was one of our favorite times. We always referred to this season as the "excessive eating" holidays. And Dennis was really in his element. What with his cooking skills, the kitchen was always filled with the aromas of the season. Even though he did not care for pumpkin at all, he always made the pumpkin cheesecake we would take to Jim and Greg's as one of our food donations. Another recipe was for pumpkin/cranberry bread, which I generally would make but he made it for me a couple of times. The recipe makes two loaves and I'd always bring one into the office to share with my coworkers. I never did take home leftovers; the treats would disappear almost as soon as I put them out on the table.

Not every year, but most years we would host a holiday party. The variety of foods that we would prepare was astounding. He would scour through cookbooks and the food section of the newspaper, along with watching the Food Network, looking for recipes and ideas. We would average between one to two dozen different items. My specialty was always meatballs, so I'd make either Swedish or porcupine meatballs (based in a chili sauce with rice as the "quills"); it was a recipe that my grandmother used to make, though mine would come out spicier than hers. He'd be in charge of the rest of the food and I'd help wherever I could. The last large party we threw was a combination holiday/anniversary party, as we had celebrated our 25th in September and we held the party in December of 2005. We created so many food items that I still retain the list of goodies, which included cheese empanadas, a seafood sandwich roll, deviled ham puffs (pastry balls filled with deviled ham), Swedish and porcupine meatballs (I went crazy that year), crab cakes, prosciutto pinwheels, horseshoe cookies, pumpkin/cranberry bread, feta and spinach pinwheels, fudge, pork bites with mushrooms, crab and cream cheese spread to put on party sized home-baked egg bread, deviled eggs, shrimp with various dipping sauces, and champagne punch. Other than that, we didn't have much (insert snicker here).

Remembering that party brings a smile to my face. But facing the upcoming holiday season has brought a case of the blues because he's not here to help share it this time. I know my friends will help me get through the whole six weeks of the season, but it won't be the same. I'm going to go to the store later and get some of the items I need because I've decided I will do some of the baked goodies we've always done. It's just another part of the process I've been going through all year. It has to be done. I may break down and have a good cry while doing it, but I will get through it. And once I'm done, there will be some great tasting food for friends to share with me.

Emotions running rampant

Between now and the end of the year represents the end of my "year of firsts" since Dennis died. Looking ahead at the upcoming holiday season (from Thanksgiving to year end) literally reduces me to tears. I've managed to make it through all the other firsts, but the ones on the horizon are going to be the most difficult. It has been 31 years since I've had to celebrate the holidays without Dennis around, and needless to say, that saddens me. I have made plans to be with close friends during this time, but friends can only do so much. I'm looking forward to getting through this year of firsts but at the same time I can't stand the thought. Conflicting emotions running rampant. I had another major crying spell last night; haven't had one that lasted as long as it did for quite a while now. So what's the answer? I guess just one step at a time.

November is a bitch

It sure is a pain being a widow. All the "experts" say that things get better, but I'm really not seeing that aspect of what I'm going through. Grieving is hard work. I came to the realization over the weekend that I may have to retire from playing pool for a while. It just isn't fun anymore; it's become nothing more than irritating to me. It's like I've never played the game before, and considering the fact that I've been in the league for more than 28 years now, I cannot stand the current state of my game. Because hindsight is always 20/20, I can see now that I never should have joined up with a new team last January. I obviously need to take a break away from the game. I don't know how my teammates will feel about this, but I have to look out after myself first, and due to the frustrating nature of my game, I can't afford the stress level any longer. All this angst over a damn game; how fucking trivial is that?

I know a lot that is going on is due to the time of the year—the holiday season is approaching, and it's the first time in 31 years that I'm by myself—no Dennis. Sure, I've got friends that I will spend the holidays with, but it just isn't going to be the same this time around. Marquita and Kim have been after me to come for a visit with them up in Napa Valley, and I'm going to do so, heading up the day after Thanksgiving and spending the three-day weekend with them. I'll be at Jim and Greg's for Thanksgiving Day, as that has been our tradition for the past 7-8 years. It's going to be difficult, not just for me, but also for one of the other guys. Benji's partner Bernie also passed away earlier this year, so he'll be by himself as well. I'm sure we will be there for each other.

I just need to get through this month in one piece with at least some of my sanity left. I'll deal with December when it hits.

Cry baby

The title of this article is the name of the song by Janis Joplin, as in "cry-y-y-y-y, ba-a-a-aby"—not crybaby, as in someone who complains frequently with little cause. If I'm a crybaby, I do have just cause. But lately, it's been more like cry baby—when you least expect it. The other night I was de-stemming baby spinach as I wanted to use only the leaves (it's a 'Dennis is looking over my shoulder' thing...), and all of a sudden I was weeping. He used to make us big baby spinach salads for dinner sometimes, using a variety of goodies like chopped onion, garlic, Canadian bacon, a cheese or two, tomatoes—you get the idea. Doing that for us was no longer in the equation, and my buried emotions boiled to the surface. Once again, a simple daily act induced tears.

I just had another minor eipsode a few minutes ago while folding clothes. It's only my clothes now; his are not even around any longer, and pow—out of the blue, the emotions spilled out...again. Big sigh...

I have so many days on the horizon that are going to be rough, that I'm sure it plays a part in all these tears. And I realize everything I'm going through, especially this first year, are necessary steps. But my feet are sore.

Adrift in a sea of doubt

Continuing on this fucking journey called my life, the tide keeps taking me farther away from what used to be a rather fun time. I can't say that any longer. My life raft is drifting and I'm contemplating puncturing a hole in it; let's see if these life preservers really work. Last night was the end of the regular season in my pool league and I've come to the realization that pool no longer appeals to me like it once did. It used to be fun to play but without Dennis around, it just seems like it's nothing more than an irritant. Having been in the league for the past twenty-eight and one-half years, I've been in the upper echelon of shooters for a long time. But these last two seasons combined, I have a losing record. I've never gone two seasons in a row (other than when I first joined and had to figure out what the league was all about) without being in the top 20 shooters. I can't even crack the top 100 any longer. My frustration level is at an all time high and I'm seriously thinking of giving it up entirely. When you've done something for a long time, and you've done it well, playing at a sub-par level just doesn't cut it.

What is the answer? I can't even figure out the fucking question, let alone come up with an answer. I've come to realize that the individual and group therapy I went through earlier in the year really was no help whatsoever. There's not much point to anything any longer. This is probably one of the most negative articles I've written since I started this blog, but you have to start somewhere. This blog is supposed to be my therapy, and at times it has kept my negativity from getting too far along. I'm tired of drifting. I want my life back and I can't have it. I'm really feeling helpless without him.

There's an old saying that goes something like this: be careful what you ask for, you may get it. For the entire 30+ years we were together, I always felt that it would be better for both of us if he died first because he'd be lost without me. And now I find out that just the opposite is true. I'm lost without him. Irony, meet your latest victim.