Good morning Sweetie,
I had a few events this weekend that reminded me of
something that’s come to mind over the last few months: since you left, I don’t
carry the same level of caution any longer and my independence has changed. I’m
jumpy as heck but I don’t worry about my safety as I used to. Plus, I remember
how much I wanted to do things with you as a team, even if I was capable of
accomplishing them myself. I wanted to share those “firsts” with you so I’d
have a memory bank of novel experiences that you were next to me for. And for
the mundane tasks, I wanted you to share in the feeling of success. Both of those have changed.
It used to be that when you’d be on shift overnight –
whether it was your night 12’s or a 24 – that I would never leave the windows
open. I didn’t feel safe without you here. While I still don’t feel safe or
protected any longer, I don’t carry the same caution for my personal safety. It
is strange to think about it but my mentality is almost “what could someone
possibly do to hurt me worse?” Over the last few months, the funky noises at
home late at night or caution when I’m out walking the dogs or letting them out
to the bathroom still may startle me, but does not drive me to consider the “what
if’s” of being harmed. It’s strange. You’re not here to protect me—to put your
arm around me in public, sleep closer to the door or walk closer to the street—and
while I hate that, I’ve become accustomed to that insecurity. I wish you were,
but it is what it is.
I read someone reference earning their “widow badges”. Months
ago I tried dragging ‘Ol Blue out to the curb. I got stuck in the doorway, try
as I might to push and pull, yank and shimmy it out the front door. I hated
that couch; there was no love lost in getting it out of the house, I know you
know that, Sweetie… However, it wasn’t
something I could do on my own. I had to ask for help. Thankfully M11 came out
to move some things for me. Yesterday I earned my drag-something-heavy-to-the-curb-all-by-yourself
badge when I put the dryer out for free on Craigslist. It wasn’t pretty to
watch, I’m sure. But I did it. If there is a way to feel “proud” of something
that I wish I didn’t have to even do—then I suppose that yes, I was proud of
myself.
On a happier note, be glad you didn’t see the Chargers game
yesterday. Your girls watched and let’s just say Philip Rivers would have
broken your heart. I would have had a cranky-pants on my hands all last night
if you had been here.
I miss you Ryan. I miss my right hand and my best friend.
Always Yours,
Stephanie
Pretty girls watching the game.
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