I wore his shirt today and, with ton of help, was able to transform our big, but plain backyard into a place for a party.
I’ve been afraid to wear much of his stuff. Only this week did dare wear his sunglasses, because even though in life he would generously lend them, in death my confused grieving self was afraid he’d get mad if I used then without permission or got them dirty. Never once in life did he get mad at me for using his sunglasses, but apparently my traumatized, grieving self is confused about the reason he is gone.
But today I wore his shirt and it was good. I was doing the hosting trying to make things pretty so that people knew they were important to us. I’ve never done that before. Setting out things nicely is a him thing. Having parties used to make me feel stressed. This time I was just doing his thing for him.
Now in truth, it was probably quite a bit like a person with half a brain thinking they were doing something, while others actually pulled it off. And I thank them for helping me take this next step. I can’t walk on my own yet, but it’s good to take steps even if I’m leaning heavily on others.