Seven months. How is it seven months? When it feels like I just spoke to him yesterday. Just held him in my arms yesterday. Just had dinner with him yesterday. Just took him to the doctor yesterday. Just ....whatever... yesterday.
There are still days that I just cannot believe he is gone My Jaybird, gone forever. Days that are gut-wrenchingly hard to get through. Days that I just want to stay in bed or lay in my hammock all day. But I force myself to get up, eat some breakfast, and do something. Because I feel like if I give in to a day in bed, I might not ever get out again.
As with other months, I've written about what seemed to be the prevailing "theme" of the month. This month had me missing the physical part of our lives. Jay was a very physical kind of person. He liked to touch, he liked to hug, he liked to kiss, he liked to make love. I'm not so much a physical person. I enjoy kissing and love making, but I'm not a touchy-feely kind of person. I'll hug you, but it's gotta be on my terms and in my time. My family has never been really touchy-feely, and I kind of came out that way too.
But Jay... oh how he loved to touch. Holding hands, snuggling up together on the couch, hugging, walking with his arm around me, kissing me, making love to/with me... he loved it all. I loved it too, in my own way, but it wasn't the same as him. He thrived on physical contact. It's like he needed a certain amount of it each day, which as the introverted, not-into-being-touched person that I am, I never really understood that.
When he started to lose his eyesight a few years back, he took a course in learning how to use his white cane. Part of that course was learning how to walk with another person as your guide. Normally, and he totally learned it this way, the blind person walks holding the elbow of the person with whom they are walking. Walking with me was awkward that way, because I was enough shorter than him for it to be uncomfortable. So he adapted by putting his hand on my shoulder. Every time we left the house, there he was on my shoulder. Who knew I'd come to miss his hand on my shoulder. And in all honesty, he hadn't been able to walk beside me for about a year before he died, because he had his right foot amputation, and there was a slow healing ulcer on his left foot that had him mostly in a wheelchair. But nonetheless, I miss the feel of his hand on my shoulder.
Laying in bed, I used to love to half-lay on top of him with my head on his shoulder or chest and his arms wrapped around me. Or I loved it when he would lay on top of me (he was always skinnier than me) in whatever position struck him at the time. Just cuddling and talking. Those intimate moments between husband and wife, between lovers, between best friends.
And his lovemaking. He was so passionate. He was so playful. He was so thorough. ...no more on that... you guys don't need to know everything. ;-)
He used to joke that I'd miss all his touchy-feely stuff whenever I'd wiggle out of a hug that had lasted too long or had danced past him when I was in the middle of something else, and he was trying to ambush me. And he was right. I do miss it. All of it. It's part of the empty, hollow space I have inside me now.
I'm finding nighttime is the hardest... when I miss this man the most. This was taken five years ago on his birthday. He was being goofy and trying to distract me from whatever I was doing on my computer (probably something school related).
Love you forever, my Jaybird
Officially changed my name back to my maiden name.
Well, that was easier than the DMV this morning - form SP-600 Resumption of Former Name, 3rd floor of the courthouse, no line at the Special Proceedings window, then on to the cashier (no line), then back to the Special Proceedings window (still no line), and back to my car. $10 for the form processing and $1 for 23 mins of parking. Now I just have to get my "official" birth certificate from my parents, and I can have another go at the NC Real ID. Now I need some lunch, it's already been a long day.
