Where does time go? It flies thru life like it has something special going on, never slowing down for us to catch up on life. Days can pass without notice, weeks slide by and the month is gone...where? Try as I may, I haven't been able to slow down time. And I have tried so many ways, prayer and mediation help during the time spent in them, but when I return to my daily life it is either time to get up or go to bed. Where does time go?
Being a widow isn't what I expected, at all. Mom was widowed fifteen years ago and now I wish I had asked her what life was like for her without my dad. She forgets now that he is gone and wonders why he isn't home for supper. I wish I had asked her how it felt to make decisions alone after years of having a partner to help decide what to do. I wish I had asked her how she dealt with knowing he would not be taking the TV remote and watching mind numbing reruns again and again. I wish I had asked her how she continued to have a life without him. How she kept celebrating birthdays and holidays and the simple things when he wasn't there by her side. It is too late to ask her for advice now, she is the one asking..." Is Bob gone?" " Did Steve die?" " Where do I live?" " Who are you?". I did not know it would be all the little things in life that stopped my heart because Stephen King was gone, I thought those big moments would be the difficult things. I was wrong.
These things have been on my mind recently, I don't dwell on them, really, just find myself wondering sometimes. Usually I am fine, coping with this new life. I keep calm and carry on, as Churchill advised the British during WWII. I don't seem to have time to think much or worry, life needs tending to. I take each day as it comes, dealing with challenges as they pop up, just like before. I stay with Mom a few days each week, we talk about the past because that is where she lives now. I help keep her cared for and her home clean, just as if it were still a home. I sleep with her and she holds my hand, I cook her meals and sometimes need to feed her. She tells me she has it made and I smile at that, happy she feels that way. At home I waste time sitting and thinking, about what I don't know. I sit down and two hours later the time is gone. I haven't sewn or read much lately, the creative urge isn't there. I have projects stacked, lists made, but few thinks get accomplished. Limbo is what it may be called, I am in Limbo, waiting for sometime. What? I cannot imagine.