Brownies and society-an anniversary alone

Tomorrow would have marked nine years that Storm and I had been together. Today, I am missing him.

I found myself at a social gathering on Friday evening. I don't often find myself at social events that are not family-based. I typically feel so awkward and out of place that I simply long for home. This was really no different.  As I was standing there trying to decide if I should go first or last, awkwardly waiting for some social cue, it occurred to me that I wouldn't have felt that way if Storm had been there.

Storm instinctively understood some things about me. He understood that I was not good at society. I stood there and thought about how he would have taken the lead, he would've directed me, he would've asked all the questions, carried the conversation, and he probably would've made my plate. In that moment, I wanted to cry. I had to go to the bathroom, had to take a minute. I really wanted to go home right then, but I stayed and managed to make it through dinner. I think I probably smiled in the right places, and I don't think I made a huge mess out of my food. I didn't break anything, and I probably even said the right things at the right time since I don't remember anyone looking at me like I'm crazy. Nevertheless, I escaped as soon as I could politely get away.

That same sort of memory had me crying over a pan of brownies tonight. I began cutting a chunk out and it was on the corner. Storm used to eat all of the edges of every cake or brownie substance that came through the house. He did this because one time I told him that I preferred the middle pieces, and he decided I should never have to eat a crust again. As soon as something came out of the oven, and was cool enough to handle, he would cut off all the edges and leave me only the middle.  It's been some time since something so silly has inspired a crying fit. I guess I was due.

Tomorrow I will not have time to wallow. I don't take time to wallow, because I don't like wallowing. Aside from that, I have responsibilities and Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday.

Immediately after Storm's death, getting out of bed in the morning was the hardest thing. More than once, I went back to bed. I didn't have the luxury of wallowing then, either, so I would get up, and stand at the front window, and pray, "This is the day that you have made, Yahweh. Please help me to rejoice and be glad in it." 

I hope tomorrow is not that kind of day. I hope that I wake up and forget all about November 24th. Since that is not actually likely to happen, I pray that Yah will help me be glad and rejoice in it. 

Shalom.