I think about her all the time, despite every distraction I’ve tried throwing at myself. This isn’t a new thing. I thought about her all the time before, too. Little things, mainly. How’s her day going? What would she think of this joke I just heard at work? I wonder if she’d like this song… just stuff like that. Before, these thoughts always made me smile a little bit. Now, while there might be a bittersweet smile on occasion, it’s mostly painful thoughts. So I try distracting myself with television, or video games, or dancing like a weirdo in the garage while I wait on my food to grill. None of it works, though. The shows I’m watching are ones she’d probably find interesting. The games I’m playing are games that she’d comment on from the chair behind me if she was there. The dancing just reminds me that we never took that class to learn how to dance for real before our wedding (it was too expensive). On top of that, there are reminders everywhere..
My iPod is full of songs that we played at our wedding and reception, specifically because they made me smile when I thought of it. When I go to fill up my cup with water from the fridge, I always push the Water button before I push the cup in because she probably got ice since the last refill. (I never get ice, so I never need to push the Water button.) There’s the assortment of stuffed animals that I got her on the bedroom dresser staring at me every night as I go to sleep. There’s also the stuff that’s missing. The computer room is incredibly empty without anything on her side of it. The fridge is once again a bachelor’s refrigerator, one shelf with actual food and the rest full of drinks and condiments. (It did make it easier to pull everything out and wipe it down, though.) There was a container of jambalaya in the freezer, which is my favorite thing that she cooks.
Part of me wants to start erasing these reminders, to clean out my iPod, to move everything of hers into a room that I don’t have to see every day, to train myself to stop pushing that Water button several times a day. The other part of me, the part that wins, doesn’t want to. I want to think about her. I love her, and I love (almost all of) the memories that we made. When Our Love is Here to Stay comes up on the iPod, I sing along to the Louis Armstrong lines, and I imagine her singing the Ella Fitzgerald lines in her not-great singing voice, and it makes me smile every time. It also makes me cry, which probably isn’t the best thing to do while driving, but it makes me smile, which is something I’m not doing a lot lately.
I made the jambalaya for lunch today, and it didn’t taste as good. Probably because I knew it was the last time I’d be be eating it.