I’m not doing very well with this life having been taken. I realized I’ve been focusing completely on mourning to the neglect of remembering his life. But it’s really hard to think about his life, because then I remember what an amazing man was killed. Right now I can’t quite see past the loss. I think some day I’ll be able to see the life through the loss, but today isn’t that day. But I want it to be. I want to make a real effort to remember the man and his love.
He was amazing. This last weekend when he spent 30 minutes blowing bubbles for her because he wanted me to take photos of her was special, but typical. He naturally did real living life well type things that the rest of us have to make conscious efforts to remember to do. It wasn’t about striving to live life to the fullest, it was just about loving and living.
He loved napping by himself and he loved family naps, and his favorite time to nap was in the sun. I think we equate rainy days with napping because we don’t feel guilty about not doing anything else. We think, ‘yay, it’s raining so we can nap.’ He didn’t need an excuse to do life affirming things, and he loved to nap on beautiful sunny days with the blinds open and the sun on his face.
He wasn’t lazy. After the bubble picture taking session Zoya got her in her pool, I sat on the blanket taking pictures, and he got out the weed eater he had picked out for his birthday and made my garden pretty. It hasn’t been done since.
There are things around the house that he fixed and fixed so well, I will be enjoying for years. The fence around the herbs, the contraption he rigged for the hose. He did things well. He wasn’t a project starter. He was a project finisher. Anything he did, he did well and he did completely. Nothing is half done. He washed all his clothes on his last day. I have nothing that smells except his PJ shirt.
I miss him