Someone To Talk To

Sometimes after I write about certain remembrances, or emotions I am having, it allows me to talk about  that particular thing to other people, without it stirring up quite as many emotions. It is kind of like I have faced that particular area, cried about it, meditated on it, cried some more, recognized it for what it was, and then am trying to carrying on in agreement with that emotion.  My kids even recognized this positive side benefit of blogging daily.  Today my daughter said, "Mom, I think you do better when you are blogging everyday."  The other two agreed, and so did I.  It has been a great outlet for my tears and grief.  The act of writing out of my feelings each day has given me strength and allowed me a daily grieving time.... focused grieving. I was out of town over the weekend and did not have a wireless connection, which is why I have not put out a post in several days.  I can tell, as well as my children, that the emotions have begun to simmer like in a pot with the lid on it.  It will eventually bubble over if I leave the lid on too long.  Even though, most of the time, the writing helps me move on in certain areas, there are, also, now areas that I appear to be in neutral.  Think of it like driving a car in second gear speed, but your car is stuck in first gear… grinding, holding you back, even painful sounding.   

I have talked about texting with Michael, but one of my favorite paragraphs about our phone conversations was somehow deleted from my, Walking the Dog, post.  One night, when he and I were having a business dinner with about seven other people, somehow the conversation turned to how often  we talk to our spouses throughout the day on the phone.  The people shrugged their shoulders and said something like, “I don’t know….maybe once.”  Or it might have been none.  The question turned to us and we looked at eachother and began to giggle.  We admitted that we talked, easily,  close to seven times before he walked in the house for dinner. (He would sometimes even call me during a bathroom break while at a business dinner.)   Everyone was shocked.  I am sure the men were thinking, “Gee, thanks Michael!”  If we had tried to explain it, I don’t believe anyone would have understood. 

We were a great team.  As it says in my poem,”Missing Parts”, we were like two notes in harmony. If you are listening to just the melody, it is nice, but when there is a harmony along with it, there is much more richness to the sound and it connects with your emotions on a different level.  We could make it through the day without talking that often to each other, but why try when we both drew even more strength from just hearing each other’s voices.  I always called him if I was walking the dog before dinner.  We would talk about the day, what the children were doing,  where we saw God in our day, what He was saying about it, what business deals were now on the front burner, what I was cooking for dinner, did he need to stop for wine, was there a child to pick  up on the way home, and then he would say, “I’m wrapping up here.  I love you!” 

I often feel very lost, almost wandering, at night without him to call or to be able to receive his calls.  When I was out of town this past weekend, each night I was still automatically expecting that conversation at the end of the day, and then would be stricken with that awful feeling in my stomach when I realized that it was not going to happen.  It feels so complete to be able to talk to someone that you love at the beginning and the close of the day.  I feel like a fish out of water gasping for air.  The level of communication I had with Michael brought life and a deep love to our relationship.  It is having someone to care about the details of your life... really care.  "So, did you have a good day today, what did you do, how do you feel, tell me about the kids studies, how did they do, did you have any problems, did you get to exercise, did you rest, can I help?... I am so proud of you, Babe! You are amazing!"  I was blessed to have someone care for me, talk to me, and better yet, listen to me. We were all made to commune like that with one another.  God created us to commune with Him first and for each other second.  They are both necessary.  I miss his voice.  It was one of the first things I fell in love with... not his singing voice, but his soft spoken voice when he was talking just to me. I am missing my someone to talk to .... my best friend.