It is odd to discover all the things that change when your spouse dies. Particularly, when your spouse was your best friend, the one you could talk to about anything, the one who was deliciously amorous and humorously wicked. My husband seemed to have an extraordinary skill set for creating embarrassing scenes in public. I’ve told this tale on my blog pages before — but it was a while back, and I’m going to tell it again—the story of what he did at a Longhorn Steakhouse in Tucson, Arizona.
We lived in Arizona at the time & Longhorn was one of our favorite places to eat. We ordered cocktails, and he asked the young waitress if she would give him some advice.
No doubt, she thought that he wanted to know about a menu item, but no, it was much worse than that. He looked very earnest as he told the waitress that we were on a first date and that I had just suggested that he come back to my house after dinner. He confessed that he didn’t know how a gentleman should react to such a proposal and wondered if the waitress had any advice for him.
The poor young woman looked painfully out-of-place and assured him that he could probably sort that out himself, and she would be back with our drinks. When she came back, I apologized for my husband (to whom I had been married for some years), and informed her that he was a good guy who just loved to misbehave in public. She looked pityingly at me, and we left her a sizable tip. He certainly enjoyed misbehaving!
It has been over half a year since he died. I miss him all the time. I find myself telling him stories that he isn’t around to hear. I catch myself wondering about the reunions that must have already taken place in the Kingdom–like when he met my parents, or when he saw his parents and grandparents. I’ve wondered if the pets that preceded him in death were part of the welcoming committee.
Mourning the death of a spouse is not a quick passage. Or at least, it has not been such for me. All I can do is keep on keeping on. I am thankful for the time we had, for the family and friends I gained, for the love we shared. Beyond that, I can only pray, trust, and tackle my loss one day at a time.
Last night I had an excellent escape — dinner at the home of two of my favorite people. There was much laughter, great stories, delicious food, and a tour of the latest house project. Good times. My sweet Ronnie would have approved!