100 things…

100 Things…

Several years ago, after much thought, I decided to create a blog that chronicled my journey through widowhood.  It was my hope that by putting my thoughts and words on page one less person would feel alone on their own journey of loss.  It was my hope that it would lead to healing…mine… and maybe someone else too.  It was the next natural step for my writing.  I had written for magazines and other people’s blogs, but I wanted a specific place to share my challenges and successes, my growth and possible regression at times, my sadness and my joy, and most of all to give my own voice to solidarity of grieving.

The blog has been more than I expected. I have met wonderful people and been encouraged in ways I never thought possible.  Today, I write my 100th post to this grief baby of mine.  Many days it is a struggle, but the accomplishments that I and my children have made over the past years have brought me great joy and healing.  All that said, I still feel the pain of losing Dave.  I still feel the empty where the full used to dwell in my heart.  I still see the sadness in my children’s eyes as they witness a father/child moment between some other dad and his kids.  I still wish things had been different.

So today, I would like to share 100 things that I still miss about him…I’ll understand if you don’t want to read the entire list…

  1. his smile
  2. his brown eyes
  3. his laugh
  4. his smell
  5. his touch
  6. his voice
  7. his raised eyebrow look
  8. his kiss
  9. his enormous hugs that made me feel like the world melted away
  10. holding his hand
  11. watching him drive a car
  12. enjoying a football game on tv with him
  13. enjoying a round of golf on tv with him
  14. playing golf with him
  15. him picking up my golf ball when I hit double bogie and wasn’t finished with the hole yet
  16. watching him play with his children
  17. watching him play with our dog
  18. evening walks with dog and boy in tow, chatting and holding hands
  19. sushi dinner with him
  20. raising our toast
  21. watching him play pinball
  22. playing pinball with him
  23. watching him cook
  24. the way he would go to the grocery early on a weekend morning with Sam in pjs and slippers
  25. that he made the coffee every morning
  26. that he never left without kissing me good bye and an “I love you”
  27. that he rarely complained about piling dishes in the sink…he would just do them
  28. that he always appreciated clean, fresh smelling laundry
  29. that he always told me how much he appreciated me doing the laundry
  30. walks on the marina in San Diego
  31. going out with him alone or with friends
  32. watching him watch everyone – he was definitely an observer on this planet
  33. the way he knew everything I was up to because he ease dropped on my phone calls
  34. his calm personality…even when totally ticked off
  35. the way he loved his children
  36. the way he gently held his babies
  37. the way he giggled with his babies
  38. the way he never thought he’d be a good dad and turned out being so fantastic at it
  39. the way he knew how to calm my anxiety
  40. “don’t worry baby, you’re with me”
  41.  hearing him say my name
  42. sitting quietly next to him on the couch…no words necessary
  43. playing horseshoes with him
  44. playing pool with him
  45. drinking beer with him
  46. his pork chops
  47. the way he loved his friends
  48. his cocky sense of humor
  49. his regular sense of humor
  50. the way he was pretty much game to try anything once
  51. how he was almost always happy
  52. the way he planned a road trip
  53. the way he would change all the outdoor light bulbs in our condo complex to different colors for the holidays
  54.  his garden
  55. his ability to quickly dig a deep hole – even in our rock hard soil here in AZ
  56. the way he would always tap the back of Sam’s head as we headed up on a roller coaster
  57. the way he and Sam would banter – he really didn’t get a chance with Ben
  58. the way he stared at beautiful things…nature mostly
  59. the pictures he took – always good, never shaky like mine and everyone looked good in them
  60. that he was a hard worker
  61. that he really didn’t complain much
  62. that he cried when his dog died
  63. that he shared his fears with me
  64. that he was willing to share his life with me
  65. that he would edge the lawn and let me mow…I always thought he was taking the easy job until I had to edge the lawn myself
  66. the way he was always willing to teach me something new
  67. his silly snidely whiplash laugh when he thought something was really funny
  68. his patience
  69. his kindness
  70. his gentleness
  71. cleaning the pool furniture with him on a long weekend
  72. swimming and hanging by the pool with him
  73. backgammon with him
  74. his phone calls during the day
  75. his ability to understand any tech tool
  76. his ability to hook up any video and sound system
  77. his ability to find a great deal on anything
  78. that he would by items off the shelf and talk the price down
  79. the way bargaining for a price tickled him so much
  80. watching his golf swing
  81. the way he would work his behind off to get all his self imposed chores done on a Sunday morning before football started
  82. the way he grilled anything
  83. the way he would never tell me what he was ordering from the menu and then wait until I ordered and then order the same thing
  84. how and when he gave me flowers
  85. the flowers he chose for me
  86. the birthday cards he chose for me
  87. the way he would let Sam pick out what Sam really wanted to give me for holidays and birthdays
  88. family hugs
  89. being able to call him to do nearly anything…and it was done
  90. that he would let me ramble and not try to solve the problem for me
  91. that he did all the Christmas shopping for everyone
  92. that nearly every thing we did, from cleaning the house to vacation, was fun
  93. the way he made me laugh
  94. the way he allowed me to laugh at myself and at us when we messed up
  95. the way he appreciated me every day
  96. the way he pissed me off
  97. that not long after his son was born, his nights out decreased and nights in increased
  98. the way he took care of me when I was on bed rest
  99. the way he made me feel safe…even when he was dying and knew he had to go…he still assured me I would be ok

and…

100.  That he gave me a chance to become who I could become always feeling loved and supported every step of the way.

There you go…100 blog posts are important to me…but more so is the muse that brought me here.

Thanks for sticking it out till the end of the list and as always, thanks for reading-

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5 thoughts on “100 things…

  1. Donna Stone says:

    I read all 100 things. It has so inspired me to do the same and make my own list. It reminded me of some of the little things that I miss so much.

  2. Rob says:

    Hope you are well. Trust that in all the chaos you have found some calm.

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