Happy Bunkie Day, Sweetheart!
John coined that phrase when he moved in with me in 1980. We were bunkies, bunkmates and so he made up Bunkie Day. And every year we celebrated it.
And Bunkie became his nickname for me.
Today would have been 33 years since our first Bunkie Day!
John made us lasagna that night to celebrate.
Happy Bunkie Day, John! I'm still your Bunkie. I will always be your Bunkie.
It's almost three years. I thought grief held no more surprises for me. I thought I had it all figured out. That the feelings of sadness would ebb and flow but for the most part I had reached a plateau.
How wrong I was.
Grief sneaks up on you, grabs hold and shakes you when you least expect it.
Over the last year I have bought two houses - one up north to summer in and one near my home with John that I planned on moving into this month. Then I was going to sell the home we had together for the last twenty years. I had mentally divided the furniture up, deciding what was going to go into which house.
Yet in the back of my mind was a big doubt. I had dragged my feet regarding the house up north - I had never replaced the carpeting as I said I would, never installed a phone line or cable. I didn't even know where my mailbox was. I never bonded with the house. And it wasn't the house's fault. It's a beautiful house.
It just didn't feel like mine.
Same with the new house down here. I had measured every room. I had made appointments for the carpeting to be replaced, the handyman was set up to make the place safe for the kids.
And then Toby, one of our dogs, became ill. I took her to the vet this past Friday and received the news that she was more than a little sick, she was very sick. She might even have cancer and may need to be put down at some point soon. I won't know for sure until this coming week when more tests are done but I can tell by looking at her that she doesn't feel good.
And that's when it all came crashing down on me.
Friday I cried as if John had just passed away. I cried for Toby. I cried for me. I cried for John. My heart was breaking all over again.
And it was then I knew.
I can't leave this home. I can't move my furniture. I'm not ready. I may never be "ready" whatever that means. I need to stay here. I need my things. I need my things with John just as they were. It gives me security that I desperately need right now.
I have been running ever since John passed. I haven't stopped. Yes, there were reasons. Good reasons. I needed to take care of finances, I needed to take care of his Mom, I needed to settle her estate.
But all the time I was doing and rushing around and just plain running. I never stopped.
Now I need to stop.
Just. stop.
I need to take care of Toby and I need to take care of me.
I know some people will think I am crazy for giving up those homes but that's OK.
I can just tell them it was my grief and I made some mistakes. They are just houses. They can be sold. No harm done.
What matters now is what is going on inside of me.
I need to give myself time and space to reconnect with myself.
I don't know how long that will take. It might take me for the rest of my life.
And that's OK.
I'm worth it.
Today I turned 65 years old. It was supposed to be a day John and I were looking forward to. It meant he could officially retire since I would be eligible for Medicare and he wouldn't have to work to keep me on his insurance. So much for plans.
But I felt John with me today. I know if he were here he would have made a big deal out of today. We would have laughed at my age and wondered how we got to be this old. He would have taken me out to dinner and bought me a present. But most of all we would have been together and that was the most important of all.
But that is not how it was.
Instead I celebrated with friends and that was good too. I have had friends take me out to lunch [all week] and dinner and I have had phone calls and cards and wishes on the Internet. I feel loved and very blessed.
And I know John is with me and he loves me. And I love him. Always.
Mindy McCready died over the weekend. This was her last song. She had a sad life and knew heartbreak all too well. A month ago her love died. This song expresses her heartache and the heartache of all of us who have lost someone dear to us. But while I can understand suicide and how close one can come to that choice, I know it is not the answer. At least not for me. I have to fulfill my soul's plan. And I know I will be with John again.
If we're really telling the truth
things don't look the way that they used to
this conversation's long overdue
cause I can't look in through
cause we're all I knew
I was your sunlight, but now I’m just a shade
I was your blue sky, Now I’m just the rain
I was your favorite song, but Now I’m overplayed
If tomorrow’s gonna be the same
I’ll see you yesterday.
I’ll see you yesterday.
Let’s get lost in our memories
That’s the safest place we can be
If this is the end of our story,
I don’t wanna read it, I just wanna keep it, well.
I was your sunlight, but Now I’m just a shade
I was your blue sky, Now I’m just the rain
I was your favorite song, but Now I’m overplayed
If tomorrow’s gonna be the same
I’ll see you yesterday
I'll see you in my dreams
and in every single moment you meant something to me
Just like the photographs
I'd keep the very best
cause baby that's the way I will remember it
I was your sunlight, Now I’m just a shade
I was your blue sky, Now I’m just the rain
I was your favorite song, Now I’m overplayed
If tomorrow’s gonna be the same
Since tomorrow's gonna be the same
I’ll see you yesterday.
I’ll see you yesterday.
I have felt a subtle shift in my perspective. Gradually I have been thinking more about future plans, accepting that I am going to be here for a while without John.
I know that accepting this doesn't mean that I am betraying John or that I am okay with his being gone from me physically. I know that and I know John knows that. I also know that he wants me to be the wife he knows and loves, the woman he admired. So, I am going to be that person again. John always told me how proud he was of my accomplishments, how he thought I was able to do so much. It wouldn't be right to let him [or myself] down now.
In a way, this makes me feel good. It gives me a purpose. To be the best I can be, for myself, for John.
