I woke a bit late this morning, having spent the night struggling with my dreams. Twice I woke with a start, knowing that a dream woke me but not remembering the content that startled me awake. So, I rose about 0630, took my morning medications, made some coffee, and retired to my workroom to write in my journal, wake, and pray.

I took care of my Girl and we did a short walk, enjoying the (clearer) air. It was a pleasant morning with most of the smoke off to the east, driven there by the westerly winds.

We returned to the house and I opened the garage door to let in the cool air and light. I am determined to get through all these damned boxes. I want to be able to park my 4Runner in the garage.

There were a few boxes marked that they contained holiday decorations. I pulled one of them over to the staging table and opened it. In it I found more family traditions. I started another box for Daughter because I know she doesn’t want these things to get away. I also know that sometime Older Son and Young Son will establish their own households and traditions and might want some of these things. I selected a few things for myself.

I now have one box of Christmas decorations/things that I want to keep. I will purchase a small tree to celebrate the season about Thanksgiving and spend an hour or two decorating it. It will be a part of my tribute to Wife and her love of that holiday season.

The remaining things I sorted and either packed for Daughter or elected to donate to Goodwill. I then sorted through the fall and other holiday decorations. They were not as challenging because Wife loved Christmas the most. The other holidays were special too, but just not in the same way.

The holiday boxes dealt with and two loads hauled to Goodwill today, I pulled open a box labeled MB Miscellaneous Things, Store. I was unprepared for what I found.

In it were Wife’s high school diploma, a number of her awards and certificates from that time, and her college diploma. I felt the grief rise in me and spent some time weeping and talking to my Girl. She feels the intensity, I know, I can tell by watching her.

How does one deal with such things of the deceased? I have no idea. I found another box from my collection that is better suited to storing these things and carefully stowed them in my bedroom closet. I will want to do something with these things this winter when it’s too cold to do much outside or in the garage. I am also not ready to make decisions about what to do with her things.

The smoke worsened as the day wore on. So, I came inside and began processing another box of old records. In it I found old records of the houses we bought and sold over the years. I found many, many old records of things like utilities. I filled the shredder’s bin twice and emptied it.

These things represent a portion of our history as a family. They should have been discarded years ago, but were not. As I worked through the old files, I was again filled with sadness that so much is past. That is the nature of life, I suppose.

I should be nowhere near the sunset of my life. But one never knows. That’s the uncertainty of living and God gave pretty good instruction about it. So, I try to not dwell on that and to just live right now.

That is my task — to live only in the moment; not the past nor the future. It’s really hard to do, sometimes. I miss Wife so much and dealing with these things reminds me of what is gone. It reminds me that I cannot know what is next — that only God knows what’s next for me. I sure wish I had a peek at what’s coming, though. I’d really like good, simple direction on what I’m supposed to do and where I’m headed.

The truth is, of course, that such direction is not forthcoming and is the antithesis of faith. Yet, I struggle with that.

During my struggle, though, I continue processing the things here that need to be dealt with. I think that’s my task for now. When it’s done, perhaps God will show me a bit of what I’m supposed to be doing next, even if that’s just sitting put. I would like to know.

This weekend has been a lot harder than I expected. The struggle makes me ever more determined to finish what I’ve started, no matter how challenging. I can see that I’m getting closer to being able to park my 4Runner in the garage. I’m also lightening my load substantially with each load that goes out of the house.

These are good things, even if they are hard. Perhaps this is part of my processing of my grief. I’m OK with that.

I worked at home most of the day today. I’m working on a big proposal (along with help from others) that will go out tomorrow. Then we wait and see.

During a respite between editing sessions, I decided to look for some of Wife’s notes for my sister-in-law. She asked me what author it was that Wife was so interested in. It was something they noticed when we were sorting through some of Wife’s papers.

So, I found my collection of “Wife Words” that I stowed in a folder on my bookshelf. In looking through the journals and calendars in the stash, I came across calendar entries for 2011 and 2012 (among others). I also came across a lot of Wife’s little bits of paper, on which she wrote notes to herself.

The calendar entries had dates for medical procedures, tests, doctor appointments, and how she felt. The notes were quite poignant and made me sit back in reflection.

I physically felt the wave of grief roll over me, breaking into tears as I thought about the last two years and where the path led us. For me, it was a path of support… doing what I could to be sure Wife got where she needed to be when she needed to be there. It was a time to support her through the rigors of chemotherapy and God-only-knows how many different tests.

For her, it was a path of perseverance, patience, and an act of will to see the process through. Ultimately, it was a path of faith as she moved to the end of her life on this Earth, then her body died and her spirit passed on to whatever comes next.

I reflected on these things as I let my grief work itself out, talking to myself and to my Girl. My Girl, although she understands a few words, really understands emotions. She sat on the floor next to me and allowed me to handle her as I talked to her about Wife, how I miss her, how things are different, and how I don’t know what is to come. She offered what she has to me, my companion for this time, sharing her heat and energy with an old man who misses his dead Wife so much.

The Girl’s company is something I cherish with all my heart. I believe she is a gift from God to help get me through this time. In exchange, the Girl has her forever home, my love, my companionship, and my protection. She is there for me when I need her support. She’s a dog, not a human, and she only knows doggie things. Yet she understands me in a way I cannot comprehend. She knows that I need her close.

This is a thing I cannot understand. I can only accept it for what it is. We are two different species sharing a home, time, and companionship. We do not communicate with words, but with a language that is nonetheless clear in its content. I thank God for that, daily.

In the meantime, I continue the healing process. At times, this means having a good cry as I mourn the loss of Wife. Today was one of those days. It was a good thing.

Last fall Wife completed the first phase of her stem cell transplant. She was released from the medical facility the evening of 31 October 2012. I picked her up that evening, not expecting her to be released until the following morning. Because I had reserved the hotel room for a couple of nights, we elected to stay in San Francisco for her to recover and to spend a little time in the city.

The next morning I took her to one of my favorite diners in San Francisco, Rocco’s. We enjoyed our breakfast (although finding parking was a bitch), then puttered around there enjoying this huge mural on the side of one of the buildings.

We drove down toward China Basin and then north along the bay, enjoying the sights and the cool morning air. When we came up on the old Army Air Base, Crissy Field, we stopped to putter around there a bit. Wife didn’t have much strength or stamina, but she was determined to enjoy her freedom. She told me she felt like she had just been released from prison. I can certainly understand that after spending a month in the hematology unit at UCSF. She went through a lot to get to the point she was and it showed.

She wasn’t strong enough to wander as far as I wanted. So, she sat on the bulkhead next to the pier, posing for an image before I walked on down a ways to see what there was to see. I returned a few minutes later, retrieved her, and we moved along. She wanted to see and was determined to make the best of her time.

We ended up in the Warming House, which now houses a coffee bar and gift shop. She loved gift shops and I have a few things she collected in the Warming House of Crissy Field.

She was tired, so I packed her into the car and we left on our driving tour of San Francisco. We landed at several other locations about the city that day. Perhaps I’ll tell those stories as well… and share some of the images. Portions of the story were told on my old weblog and I’m going to do my best to get those in here as well.

I miss you, Girl, a lot. Life will never be the same.