And not sure how I'm doing it anymore. Sometimes even thinking of making it through one more minute without him is almost insurmountable pain. I have spent a lot of time with people who are at the point in their grief over this that they want to talk about him. And I'm not there yet. In the beginning, I could because it was shock talking, shock making me move, shock keeping the "balance". It's a pity that shock wears off. Now it's reality and, anytime someone brings him up, my breath is taken away in realizing that those are it for him. Those memories. No new ones to make. I cannot think of the things we have done, or look at his pictures and things...and they are everywhere.
He had a doctor (a foot doctor) who just adored him. Both "Doc" (because that's what everyone calls him) and his receptionist were in love with my husband. He was "like a son" is what they always tell me. That and "He was so in love with you and talked about you all the time." Doc is older and Leonard was one of his only standing appointments (heel spur/injections). Doc couldn't keep his office open on Thursday afternoons for a long time because it hurt too much. But they are at the point where they want to remember things with me... so I listen, I leave, and I cry. And I deal with a splitting headache that almost always comes after. The tension of missing him. No one mentions these things about grief. Grief hurts in the most physical of ways. It pummels, pulls, twists and pinches. There is no relief.
My grandmother wanted to talk about her "favorite grandson" the other day. But her memories are, a lot of the time, made up because a lot of the time she was angry with us for not being able to do something for her...or to stay on my mom's good side. It's complicated. But that kind of memory hurts everywhere. The skin of my scalp hurts after that... because it's a fabrication, but it's still about him and I want to shout,"Why couldn't you love him like that when he was here?" But I don't. I'm done screaming at people.
Yes, these have been some strange, sad days. Days with only work and the daily grind of stuff that has to be done keeping me standing. Yes, this is a pity post. I just can't let go and realize that I can't go back and "fix things".