It’s been a sad two weeks. A person who made a great impact on my life died. His funeral is today, but I don’t think I am going to put myself through that. I will just keep in mind that although he was young and full of love and all the wonderful attributes of Jesus, he is now with God and he is happy. The man was a true inspiration: no-nonsense, but, gentle. A good guide.
The knot in my back is better, thanks to vicodine and a theraputic talk with Husband last night. Lately, fear and dread have been my constant companions. Sometimes I can shake them, but they are sticky and persistent. His reminiscing during our drive on a previous trip without me was a major trigger. My heart raced at 114. A week earlier, he was telling me where a building was and he said, “It’s right across the street from Thus and Such Pub, remember? We’ve been there.”
No, we have not, I told him. Yes, we have, he argued. NO, WE HAVE NOT, I answered. YES! WE HAVE, he insisted, so I gave up and said, “Clearly, you have been there before but it was not me who was with you.”
I didn’t expect to be invaded by these new thoughts that there may have been more than one affair.