Tentatively she asked, “Can you seat me at a table for one?” Without hestitating the young waiter at the Dynasty Buffet ushered her over to the same booth they had shared so many Sundays together. It wasn’t until the end of the meal that she dared explain knowing full well that if she attempted it earlier, she’d not be able to eat because of the lump in her throat.
This week has been that for her – doing some of the hard work of being on her own. Once she gets some of these things out of the way for the first time, the easier they will be the next time around. But they take tremendous amounts of courage. She surprises me. I am so proud and so sad at the same time.
She says that she often finds herself talking to someone in the next room only to discover there is no one there. She’s still thinking the dog is making noise and Saint Skye’s been gone for a year and was only a freeloader for 17 years. Imagine the adjustment time after sidekicking it for 60 years.
Funny that I often find myself in such an opposite place in life where I rarely get one or two hours totally alone in the house – no Cali Squatter, no Director Boy, no Dr. I can barely contain myself when it does happen. Guess I’d better reconsider what I wish for…
1eyedmonkee 