Day 59

 

Yesterday was a tough day. No matter how busy I kept myself, my emotions were on my sleeve. 

It all started with the “You have memories today with…” message on FB. I clicked on it to find photo after photo of Mark and I traveling in our RV’s. Seemed we were on the road during the end of June every year from 2009-2015. Usually on our way to Ky to camp at Diamond Lakes so we could spend time with our son and his family or heading to Florida to visit our daughter and her family and camp at Disneyworld.

Mark loved to RV and we traveled great together. We’d pile both dog AND the cat in, and off we would go. (Our yorkie, Annabelle, was quite the traveler. She travelled across the country many times by car, RV and plane. Like Mark, she loved every minute.) Any couple that can coexist in an RV for weeks at a time without fighting is solid. WE were solid. Despite mishaps and blunders we would laugh our way across this great country. I hope that one day I can scroll through all the pictures with a smile instead of tears. 

The final cry last night came while I was making chicken salad. I haven’t been eating well and that MUST change. I decided to make some chicken salad. I figured it was easy, high protein and something I WOULD actually eat. I was fine until I started mixing all the ingredients together. Then the wave of grief hit me. Mark LOVED my chicken salad and frequently asked me to make it. I couldn’t keep him out of it. I have an uncommon secret ingredient I add to it. When I started adding the ingredient to the chicken that wave of grief swamped over me. Often it’s the small things that trigger the most intense waves. The chicken salad made it into the refrigerator. Barely. I still haven’t eaten any. No wonder I can no longer cook.   

Our granddaughter flies in this evening from Seattle. We are going to have a busy few days packing up the RV in preparation of hitting the road on the 5th. Mark and I started a tradition of taking the littles of the family in individual road trips. It started with our niece Heather. we then took our grandson Joshua. This year it’s Rachel’s turn. So, I’m continuing the tradition. Mark would have wanted me to. I know we will both feel Marks absence, but we all need each other and NEW memories. Baby steps. 

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