51/2 hours until I can go to bed.
What can I do to fill the hours?
I've just eaten the remaining bit of a lemon current scone, so I won't need dinner. Or, if I do, I have a plate in the fridge with a piece of lasagne left over from a couple of days ago.
Brian, my sweet and dear husband, left this earth one week ago. His funeral was last Friday. Shiva was Sunday evening.
We married 43 years ago in the "round building", the government building in Duncan that issued drivers licenses and occasionally preformed marriages, needing only one witness.
I learned later that the woman who wrote our information down noted that I was Guwish.
43 years: more than 1/2 my lifetime.
The care-giver role I have worn has lost the cared-for.
Time and space seem to have no reason to be- to exist at all.
Our wonderful cat Oliver tells me he wants to eat, so I check the clock.
I see that it's only three o'clock so I urge him to wait a little.
Whole days haven't been 'seen' by my head.
I think it's the opioid meds I took for a recent injury, though someone more knowledgeable than I, says it is grief that has erased memory.
Grief so great that as we sat Shiva, a time to share stories about Brian, I have absolutely no recollection of words that were spoken, or of people who were gathered together.
I'm being told to be kind to myself: suggestions welcomed.
