As of now
My life-long anthem singer, the man who has unwittingly written my entire life's story in his songs, Tom Waits, sings a song with a very appropriate line for this moment, in a song called "Hold On."
Possibly my favorite song of all time, it sings, "with charcoal eyes and Monroe hips, she went and took that California trip. Well the moon was gold her hair like wind, she said don't look back..." and here I am. Planning a trip to California to properly remember my own beloved with his family and friends who loved him.
I'm just lucky enough to have loved him too, so now I've been adopted into his circle of distant friends and family, all of whom I can't wait to meet. I'm planning on taking the train down too, which brings even more romance to this whole affair; I always wanted to take Michael on a train for some part of our honeymoon. He'd never been on one, and I thought this was such a shame; once we wandered into a toy store and he latched onto a Brio train set exactly like one I'd had as a little girl--my perpetual kid at heart:)
He said he wanted to put the train up around our Christmas tree. This year I might do that for him, although I think making the trip to California with him watching me (as I'm sure he will be) will mean more. Not to mention how much it will mean to both of us, but especially me, when I meet everyone he knew in Fullerton! Although I can promise I have no intention of making up my eyes with charcoal and I definitely do not have hips like Marilyn Monroe, I still think this trip will be a big step forward for me.
Why should I worry about the past? I shouldn't regret a moment, although sometimes I catch myself blaming his death on something I did or didn't do. I like to think he's told me several times there was nothing I could have done to keep him here. Now the best I can do for him is finally see the home of his childhood, meet his brother and his dearest friends, and finally begin my future--albeit not exactly as I dreamed it would be a year ago.
I was probably naive to think that things would always stay as they were, but what did I know? Paraplegia was something I'd barely encountered in my life; and I had never known all there was to life with the condition. While I adapted quickly, I never anticipated what might come up, and I never imagined it would cut Mikel's lifespan in half. He told me all that was wrong with him would ultimately shorten his life, but I was thinking that meant I'd have at least ten or fifteen years--maybe as many as 20--as his wife. Silly me.
With that disappointment I have the surprise of something completely unforeseen to look forward to--even if it is without him. I never anticipated that either, but I can only try to let it help me move on, and never look back at what I thought would be.
Possibly my favorite song of all time, it sings, "with charcoal eyes and Monroe hips, she went and took that California trip. Well the moon was gold her hair like wind, she said don't look back..." and here I am. Planning a trip to California to properly remember my own beloved with his family and friends who loved him.
I'm just lucky enough to have loved him too, so now I've been adopted into his circle of distant friends and family, all of whom I can't wait to meet. I'm planning on taking the train down too, which brings even more romance to this whole affair; I always wanted to take Michael on a train for some part of our honeymoon. He'd never been on one, and I thought this was such a shame; once we wandered into a toy store and he latched onto a Brio train set exactly like one I'd had as a little girl--my perpetual kid at heart:)
He said he wanted to put the train up around our Christmas tree. This year I might do that for him, although I think making the trip to California with him watching me (as I'm sure he will be) will mean more. Not to mention how much it will mean to both of us, but especially me, when I meet everyone he knew in Fullerton! Although I can promise I have no intention of making up my eyes with charcoal and I definitely do not have hips like Marilyn Monroe, I still think this trip will be a big step forward for me.
Why should I worry about the past? I shouldn't regret a moment, although sometimes I catch myself blaming his death on something I did or didn't do. I like to think he's told me several times there was nothing I could have done to keep him here. Now the best I can do for him is finally see the home of his childhood, meet his brother and his dearest friends, and finally begin my future--albeit not exactly as I dreamed it would be a year ago.
I was probably naive to think that things would always stay as they were, but what did I know? Paraplegia was something I'd barely encountered in my life; and I had never known all there was to life with the condition. While I adapted quickly, I never anticipated what might come up, and I never imagined it would cut Mikel's lifespan in half. He told me all that was wrong with him would ultimately shorten his life, but I was thinking that meant I'd have at least ten or fifteen years--maybe as many as 20--as his wife. Silly me.
With that disappointment I have the surprise of something completely unforeseen to look forward to--even if it is without him. I never anticipated that either, but I can only try to let it help me move on, and never look back at what I thought would be.
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