On the Fourth of July, I was with friends who live near Washington D.C. That day, we went to Teddy Roosevelt’s Memorial Island, then out to eat at Ray’s, a well-known establishment. Then we went to the firework show put on by their town. (A suburb of D.C., so not the giant show downtown there.)
All day, I thought about Ian on and off. This isn’t unusual. I still think about him near constantly. That had been a habit for several years, so I understand that it will be a habit that is slow to fade. I wondered what he’d think of my friends. I thought about how much he would have liked the Memorial Island. When I ordered my (delicious) hamburger, I thought about what he’d order and how he’d so strongly request no vegetables. I ordered the shake that he would have ordered. (chocolate with bourbon & bacon crumbles… it was rather tasty, to be honest).
At the fireworks show, I cried because I wished that he and I had gone to fireworks somewhere. He hated the crowds and would have complained a lot, but I think when it came down to it, he would have enjoyed the show, and I wish I’d cared enough about them during the last few holidays to force him to go despite his arguments.
As I was watching & thinking about all this, I could almost hear him calling me a bozo for being sad still. I thought back to the Ian-In-My-Head that he was the bozo for not understanding how many people loved him so much. For not trying some of the options he’d refused.
The vacation and visit with friends was good for me. It rejuvenated me. I still hurt, and I still cry, but I’m just a little better able to deal with it. I hope that trend continues, the slow rise to things being a tiny bit easier. And then again, I hope it doesn’t, because despite that being better for me, it means I’m letting go of him a little, and I hate that idea.
So, we’ll see how it goes, I guess. I think it’s inevitable.
Written 7/7/2014
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