Thursday, August 22, 2013

Six Years

Hard to believe, isn't it?  Six years ago, Jim killed himself.

I have survived.  I am no longer angry.  I still get sad once in a while (read: often), but not sobbing-in-the-shower sad.  Seeing a silver-haired, balding man on the street no longer gives me a turn.

I am 64 years old.  I married Jim when I was 50 and we were married for seven years.  That's less than one-tenth of my life.

August 22nd

For some reason, this post is difficult.  I am wondering if I am feeling a bit guilty about not grieving as I have been all these years.  I realize how silly that is, with friends who have been trying to fix me up with stray men in their circles...thinking that, if I'm not "over it," I should be.

I'm not really "over it."  I may never be.  I did love the man for 24 years, even though we were married for only seven.

So here we are, Dearly Beloved.  Life goes on.  If I had it to do over, I'd do the same thing.  Even though I'm now old and fat.  I probably would have been fat anyway, and I most assuredly would have been old.

So I slosh out some cheap vodka for Jim and drink a toast in a decent single malt Scotch, pull up my big (really big) girl panties and keep going.



  1. I treasure the years I spent with my second family at SBCT, especially you and Jim and so many others.

    1. Miss you, Bill! Dammit, you're not that far away! I need to get my AC and ragtop fixed and come see you guys!

  2. I agree with you Ronni. How could you ever 'get over' a thing like that. I'm glad you are not angry any more. That is such a beautiful picture of you both.

    1. I like it, too...many thanks to Tracie for the photo. Thanks, Nelly!

  3. ronni,

    you don't have to get over it.
    you will never get over it.

    you and jim loved each other.
    he made an EXIT STAGE LEFT.

    you are still here - lovable and irrepressible.