Sorrow

"The pain was not gone, he doubted it would ever go, but it had changed from violent grief to sorrow. The tears no longer came in torrents." These thoughts were attributed to John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, following the death of his first wife, Blanche, of the plague in 1369. (Carol Sargeant, Love, Honour and Royal Blood, 2009, p74). I am not quite to that point 100 percent of the time yet, but I can tell I am getting there. Tears seem to be so near the surface at all times and I never seem to know when they are going to start flowing, but they have come in torrents only once in the past week. The ache is becoming a bit duller as time passes. Perhaps I should say a word about John of Gaunt who has been my favorite character in history for over four decades. The third and oldest surviving son of Edward III of England, he was one of the most powerful men of 14th Century England. He was a close friend of both Geoffrey Chaucer and John Wycliff. I have studied his life and the life of his third wife, Katherine Swynford, for years. In 2000, while doing research on my family history, I was astounded and delighted to learn that I am a descendant of John and Katherine. They are my grandparents seventeen generations back. It is hard for me to realize that yesterday marked the ninth week since Rick's heart attack and the fourth week since his death. Most of the time it doesn't seem that long. Last night was the easiest Friday evening I have had since his passing. I was sure to keep myself busy and avoided looking at the clock so that I wouldn't mark the events of April 9 and May 14 as I have on previous Fridays. I'm sure that I will always recall special memories on Fridays. After all, we met on a Friday evening in 1962. I can still visualize the way he looked the first time I saw him. I was standing on the second floor exterior walkway of the apartment house I had just moved into, and he was standing on the ground looking up at me when my new roommate introduced us. Last week was good. On Monday we learned that our niece, Joan, was in town from Kansas. On Wednesday she came over with her daughter who lives here and four of her grandchildren. Amy and Ray stayed home and Chris came with his three children so we had a mini family reunion. It was so good to see Joan, Shelly and the children. Joan reminds me so much of her mother, Rick's late sister, Rose Mary. On Thursday my long-time friend, Karen Carter, came over to take me to lunch. We had a nice, long (and delicious) lunch at the Teapot Depot and then went "junking." She's a great one for thrift stores. Maybe together, she and Donna can convert me. We came back to the house and just visited. It was a near perfect day. Thanks, Karen. I am feeling a need to get in touch with old friends. I guess it's because I now realize how tenuous life is. I realized that Rick's and my time together was growing shorter each year, but I thought we'd have at least another 10 or 15 years. Shortly after he died, I realized that if I live to be the age my mother was when she died, I will live 17 years without Rick. It seems almost unbearable but I know I can make it. I just pray that I make intelligent decisions about my future. It's Saturday and Amy and Ray are selling at two farmers' markets today. Katherine and William are up and so my day has started. Yard work, here I come.