The Weekend Walkabout

I’m a procrastinator. I have a list as long as my arm to prepare for this trip west. I could have spent the entire day yesterday cleaning and organizing the trailer, doing laundry, straightening up the house. But yesterday was the Lord’s day, so Mr. FixIt and I went to church first. The rest of the day was ours. We went my mother’s family’s reunion and made the introductions. Mutual admiration was expressed. Everyone loves Mr. FixIt. He’s highly personable and, like me, strangers are just friends he hasn’t met yet. We went from there to the City Park and wandered around the carnival. We played a few cards of bingo. We went to a car show. We stopped and visited friends. One of the coolest things about dating Mr. FixIt is…we have a ton of mutual friends so the comfort level is already there. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done. This man knows people wherever we go. Literally. My family reunion? A guy that worked at the plant. Church? The daughter of a friend in his bowling league. Car show? Two guys we went to high school with. It’s crazy…and SO fun!

We ended the day with dinner out.

We.

We’ve been “us” for several months now yet it still surprises us sometimes. Because I have been trying to keep him under wraps, my posts have always been “I”. Now that we’ve decided to “go live” so to speak, there seems to be a bit of a learning curve. Like remembering to introduce the other. We’re at that point in our relationship where we’ve just passed this margin threshold where we have built up enough recent memories together to say …“Remember when we…” Oh, I love that! The icing on the cake is our shared memories from high school. I actually remember him from 2nd grade but he has no memory of me back then.

We.

Odd…but so lovely and exciting and full of promise. I love when he tells stories of “us”. I love that he got teary eyed when he read some of your comments about finding each other. I love that even though he had a difficult childhood, he is a kind, gentle, peaceful man. I love how he reaches for my hand when we stand to worship and pray in church. I love this man…my lifelong friend…my best friend.

Someone commented yesterday that she didn’t understand my once a pickle, always a pickle analogy meaning I will always be a widow. The thing is, grief has no rule book. She felt remarrying meant she was no longer a widow. At what point does the pain of grief become fond memories? It’s different for everyone. And grief is variable by time. You can be fine, think it’s gone, truly fall in love, yet still be blindsided by a chance encounter, or the smell of familiar cologne. The way the light slants in at supper time. The sound of your grandchildren playing. Memories remain alive when you feed them. No, I’ll always be a widow. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be joyful. And crazy in love. ❤️

“No one will be able to stand against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you.” ‭‭Joshua‬ ‭1:5‬ ‭NIV‬‬