In the midst of telling you about Bob, I never got a chance to tell you that we spent last weekend on the Cape. Due to a series of interesting events the owners of the house we rent offered us a weekend this fall and we snagged it up. It was quite different to be there in the cooler weather and we enjoyed it a lot.
We had a fire in the fireplace on Friday and Saturday night. It was cozy and lovely, the perfect setting for snacks and cocktails.
We went to Cape Cod Beer to fill some empty growlers and discovered that it was Oktoberfest. There was a live band playing polka music, plenty of beer, and knockwurst. Yum. It was a great way to spend an afternoon.
We played cards, of course. We went to the beach and took a long hike in the woods. And watched TV and listened to music and all of the other things we enjoy doing.
When we got the phone call about Bob one of my first thoughts was – we need to go home. I even asked Dale if he wanted to go home and he said “why would we do that? Nothing will change if we go home.” He was right, of course.
And, as it turned out, being away in our little Cape Cod retreat was actually a blessing. We were together and that right there was a gift. Dale pointed out – imagine if I got this call and we were both at work. We had the privacy and space to feel all of our feelings, to make phone calls to our kids, to cry a lot.
We were in our own little bubble and, as it turned out, that was good because going back to real life? Rough. People are wonderful and the tributes for Bob and support of our friends and colleagues has been amazing. But still, I am reminded of this time right after my mom died – I was at the grocery store and I looked at all the people there, going about their business and I thought, “don’t they know? how can they just act like nothing happened? my mom is dead.”
Right now I wake up every morning and my first thought is, Bob is dead. It’s like a punch to the gut and it doesn’t go away during the day. When I’m working or attending a meeting, taking a walk or preparing dinner, driving my car or enjoying a glass of wine, it’s always always part of me. It’s good – pain is part of healing – but it’s brutal.
I didn’t meant to talk about this again. I started out writing a post about our weekend on the Cape. Thanks for listening.