"Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda" or "What would she have done?"

Today, the weather was spectacular so I rolled a dusty Harley out of the garage for what may be the last ride of the year. I had only clocked +/- 50 miles this entire year because of the back injury. It was awesome to hear the engine roar to life like a moth waiting to emerge from a cocoon. The bike had been hidden away for months in the darkness of the garage begging for a rider. I enjoyed the wind in my face, the vibration of all that power, the sound of barely legal pipes but there was a nagging emptiness. What is it? Hmmmmmm, perhaps the back seat was empty, rear pegs raised, maybe riding Solo was hitting me.

It took me back to a time when Carol had proclaimed that "my next car will be a convertible". I laughed and said it would need to be a FAST convertible. She made that comment in the Spring of 2000 and in May I bought her (ME) a 1990 Corvette convertible with the fast engine and 6 speed manual transmission of MY dreams. She loved that car, she could not believe her eyes. As cars go, it was a fun car and I recall many fun "top down" rides. Sadly, by 2002 the insurance on "our toy" had gone from $450.00 per year to $1,200.00 per year. No tickets, no nothing, just being hyjacked for no real reason. When I cound't find replacement insurance at a reasonable cost, she said "GET RID OF IT". Mind you, she was an accountant, there was no talking about it, the car HAD to go, so I sold it.

I digress, as I was riding today, I started "crunching numbers" on how much the Harley costs compared to miles and if she were here, that damned accountant, she would proclaim "GET RID OF IT". Granted, the Corvette was a "toy", a FUN TOY, but so is the Harley and so now I find myself asking "What would she have done?"

Being widowed, I would set my Harley on fire and cheer as it burned for ONE last moment with Carol. I would trade all my "stuff" to have her back (healthy). Hence, that answers the "woulda, coulda, shoulda". She got her "ragtop" and now I am riding solo.

I hate Grief

How does one resolve their grief of losing the most important person in their life, being their spouse that is dead with the love of a person that is alive and wants to love you?

That is a concept I have been grappling lately. I love my SO with all my heart, yet recently have fallen into an abyss where I just want Carol. I feel so conflicted, confused and unsure. Carol is gone, not by choice, but gone. I will never stop missing her, NEVER. We connected in ways that I could never connect with another person. I may be able to publish some of our antics in future posts, trust me she was “one of a kind”. I miss that, I miss HER, and I friggin’ hate that.

How do we balance our grief with the world in which we are a part of? How can the object of our worldly love accept those thoughts? How do I reconcile that SHE still loves her husband? What does all this mean?????? It means that GRIEF STINKS, oh that is why I started this blog.

Peculiar, but my SO does not care for the word SUCKS, which was always a staple in my vocabulary. I began to use the word STINKS and she found that an acceptable substitute. I find that a decent place to compromise on word usage. I prefer “SUCKS”, she prefers “STINKS”. I never cared for things that STINK, lol. No comment on the word “SUCK”, so don’t GO THERE.

The difference typifies the fact that my Carol was unique and can never be replaced and my SO is unique and also cannot be replaced!!!!!! Any wonder that I am conflicted, confused, and unsure????

Ron

Do we ever stop missing our spouses?

Lately, I find myself missing Carol as I did in the days following her death. Not the gut-wretching, cannot sleep, wishing I would die kind of missing her but rather the kind where I look at the calendar, or feel the chill in the air, or another Friday evening kinda miss her.

I am sure that others who are widowed "get that" but it is how I am feeling lately. I might add that Carol died over two years ago and I feel like it was just yesterday that I kissed her goodbye as we went off to work, that I kissed her goodbye when she was "declared brain dead" at 1:15 PM on September 14, 2004.

Carol, I love you and always will. I miss you more and more each day.

I wonder if it ever gets easier???

Please feel free to post your thoughts or comments.

Regards,

Ron

Hogs Rule and Death Stinks

My hell began on September 10, 2004. My wife Carol had a heart attack at work just before 5:00 PM that Friday evening. I received a call from my stepson Paul telling me that she had choked on an apple "or something" and should call "so and so" at "her number". I called the number, it was the cell number of one of Carol's colleagues.

She told me to head for the hospital near Carol's work. It is one of the largest hospitals in the city, I raced toward that hospital. I called my mother and told her I had a very bad feeling, just pray. I will continue later, I need to go cry even after over two years, it is painful to recount the event.

Ron

My First Entry

I am a new to this thing called blogging. Perhaps with time I will become better, who knows. I work better with things that make lots of noise, like my Harley. 88 Cubic inches of PURE noise, now that is music to the male mind.