Everything (household objects, cities, people) feel distant from the norm, atop of the Elisabeth Kubler-Ross stages of grief (surprisingly grief isn't one of the stages of grief), and the $800 Southwest airline ticket, majority of the tax and charge coming out of Los Angeles. I love you L.A. don't ever change. And the 3 1/2 hours layover in Phoenix.
As for the Kubler-Ross stages of grief: Denial, Bargaining, Anger, Depression, and Acceptance; I thought I was getting a grasp on things finally "accepting" Rick's death when I read that these stages don't have any particular order. So you could actually feel Acceptance but then end up with Anger being your final stage, resulting in therapy for full recovery. Great. I love it when medical professionals find a way to keep you coming back. Soul suckers.
It's all b.s.
I was Depressed all day/night Thursday. I don't "Deny" Rick's gone, I know he is, so that stage is useless. I guess I'm in the Anger stage. I can't imagine what the Bargain stage is, nothing will bring Rick back.
I need to lay off the wine for a while, stick to imbibing only on the weekends like I used to. I walked into the grocery store yesterday and before I could pick up a hand cart, clerks were telling me what wines they recently tried. Hey, I do buy food here too.
I picked up a bottle of Mirassou Pinot Noir on one of their suggestions. Not bad.
And then uncorked this afterwards...
It's funny what things you remember about people when they're gone.
I remember Rick's family had the best haunted house on Halloween.
I remember several years ago sitting in my brother's livingroom one winter night after Rick and I (and some friends) had just gone out for dinner and drinks.
I was staying with my brother in Minneapolis during the holiday. My brother was out on a date, Rick and I had the house to ourselves; romantic winter night, snow gently falling under the bright moonlight, and I thought maybe something could happen.
"I know everything about you." Rick playfully said.
"Not everything." I said back. "Did you know when I was 15 years old I made out with your younger brother?"
Now he knew everything about me. But no, nothing happened between Rick and I, and we were both content with it.
It is a very different kind of love when childhood friends mature into man and woman. It is a marriage of memories that takes life of its own without religion or promises.
"New thoughts and hopes were whirling through my mind, and all the colours of my life were changing." -- Charles Dickens, David Copperfield
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| Where the heart is |
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