Chapter Ten - Moving On....a Bit

11/17/19 - Last night marked thirteen weeks since Penny died, thirteen weeks of a new life for me.  With the possible exception of the birth of my sons, nothing has had a greater impact on my life as it was before than the loss of my partner, best friend, love of my life.  Gallons of tears shed, heartache of a magnitude that I did not think possible, and occasional waves of grief that literally suck the air from my lungs.  I have immersed myself in the study of grief, and everything I have read and learned has manifested itself in my experience.  First among these is that the path is long and hard, and will likely last for the rest of my life.  I believe that.  But I have a life to live, and I reflect on the conversation that I know I would have with Penny now, if that was possible.  She would say "I know how much you miss me, and how hard this is for you.  But I want you to live your life, to take care of yourself, to be happy, to be a good Bumpa to our grandchildren, to live a long life."  So the tears will continue to flow from time to time, but I am beginning the process of rebuilding a life without her.  Since Penny's death, virtually everything has been left in place.  Her closets are untouched, her shower products are still on the shelf, her cosmetics still cover the top of her make-up table.  But today I took my first steps on the road that must be traveled, the removal of some of her things to storage or donation.  Her desk is no longer covered with the hundreds of get well and sympathy cards that filled out mailbox for many months.  They will all be kept and treasured, but stored away. The files and folders of treatment information, test results, cancer research papers will also go to storage, the historical account of "Us vs. Cancer".  Today I also made my first donation delivery, two boxes of clothes (granted, she had filled the boxes before she died), and her wheelchair and walkers.  Small steps, but feeling like a breakthrough emotionally.  While the holidays will undoubtedly be challenging, my best hope for surviving them is to have the freedom to steer away from the emotional hot buttons.  The kids have invited a record crowd of their friends for Thanksgiving dinner, and I want it to be memorable despite a different face at the other end of the table.  The same challenge will be present for Christmas, and for every family event for years to come as the inevitable memories fill my heart.  We had a glorious life together that filled every corner with love and happiness.  I know that life is gone.  I know that wishing, praying, crying, hurting, promising, pleading....none of those will bring her. or that life, back again.  But even suffering the greatest pain of my life is not going to keep me from trying to put a life back together.  Just as I promised her the night she took her last breaths, I will be alright.