My world hasn’t changed much, there’s been little to write. One day follows another. I don’t talk about Ben or grief anymore to Mama and Daddy, or friends or other family. It seems out of place now. As if my allotted time is up and I have to talk about something else now. I don’t know if that comes from my internal thoughts or external signals. I was never very skilled at discerning subtle social cues. I’m even worse now.

My health is not good, two hospital visits last few months. Ulcer and high blood pressure. Stress related illnesses. I’m internalizing grief rather than wailing all day as I used to. I can stop myself from wailing all day now. I don’t want to wail. But the pain is still so sharp. There isn’t a single day I don’t feel an intense ache so bad tears spring to my eyes and I have to blink hard to clear them. Anything sets them off. Everything sets them off.

But I dodge, suppress, swallow hard, instantly throw my brain at something to keep it busy. Don’t cry not now later not now. The internal conversation is continual.

I miss him. Everything about him. It’s been too long now, I miss him even more than I did at first. The shock is less sharp, but the missing is heavier, more real, profoundly sad.

My Wednesday group is still meeting and they are the ones I confide in. They don’t need much explanation, and that’s so much easier. They also don’t signal my allotted grief time is up, consciously or subconsciously.

Life is… continuing on. Without Ben. Without me. Sweet Beau is a bright spot. My reason for trudging through day after day. I feel a strong sense of responsibility toward him. Teach him what I can. Offer a calm reliable refuge. Be a proper Granny. I’m doing my best.

I overheard a funny, and very sweet, conversation. Beau and Clyde sitting in the recliners in the camper living room today. Me washing dishes.
Beau: I want that chair!
Clyde: No, I was here first.
Beau: But I want it.
Clyde: Why do you want it, it’s the same!
Beau: I can smell my Gee from that chair.
Clyde: So?
Beau: So I want to smell my Gee. I don’t want you to smell my Gee.
Clyde: I can smell her too!
Beau: No you can’t she’s my Gee!
Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahah

I wish I could say I smell like pumpkin spice or a nice perfume, but it’s more likely sweat. 😜

There are moments that shine.