eleven days

I haven’t written for a while. I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it a lot, but I’ve been occupied with a project. Have you heard of ISTE? I’m working on their certification. It’s kept me busy. Really busy. BUT you can’t stay busy every moment.

You just can’t stay busy every moment of every day. You can’t. 

And it’s the quiet and still that gets me. I’m sure that’s true for most everyone. It’s not the bustle or crowds. It’s not trying to keep up with the demands of work. It’s the quiet. It’s the dark. It’s the sound of your own footsteps and the realization that there is no one to disturb. 

It’s being alone. It’s fixing just what you want for dinner because there is no one else to consider. It’s ignoring the vacuum because no one’s tramped in dirt. It’s taking out the trash, and getting gas, and shopping for groceries. It’s paying taxes and the car registration and getting the car inspected. It’s fiddling with bills and trying to figure out how to save. It’s all the things he used to do that I’ve had to learn. Things done alone in the quiet.

A year ago today, Ron came home from his last hospital stay. 

A year ago today, he had 11 days left on earth. Only a short 11 days before he was gone.

Some days recently have surprised me. 

March 7th. The last day I went to work thinking we had this thing beat. What a crazy anniversary that was surprisingly hard to get through.

March 18th. His last day in the hospital. His first day home. And there was still a great feeling that everyone was wrong, but then things went downhill so very quickly. They weren’t wrong. 

March 29 will be his last day. And it’s racing toward us. It will be here before I know it, and then another year will start. 

I can’t help but wonder what the new year will bring.