As I draw closer to May 8, the 2 year mark after Juanita died, I find myself with vivid remembrances of the most surreal time in my life. Four months from diagnosis to death. Terminal pancreatic cancer, nothing the doctors could do. They said she had maybe a year. I watched her age before my very eyes as the pancreatic cancer consumed her body, leaving her with no flesh, just skin, tendons and bones. All we had was our faith. She told the Lord about a week before she died, "You promised me life abundantly, and this is not an abundant life, so either heal me now or take me home". Juanita was bold with the Lord in that way, and she made her choice. I would entertain no negative thought contrary to her healing until she collapsed in pain her last day. I had to carry her from the bathroom I had taken her, to the bedroom because that is where she asked me to take her. I couldn't use the walker seat because she had completely collapsed in the chair and I couldn't hold her up and move the chair at the same time. I barely made it, and plopped her down on my side of the bed because that was closest to the door and avoided an obstacle course of our portable room air conditioner to get her to her side. But in that split second, I knew I would drop her because my strength was beyond depleted. True to form, Juanita said, No, I want to be on my side of the bed". She was in such severe pain, the first pain her entire cancer journey with no pain meds and no treatment. She commanded her pain to leave and it left most always. In those rare instances when it would not obey her words, I would lay hands on her and command the pain to leave, and it did. I think it took about 26 hours in the hospital before her last breath. I noted on my calendar, LWJ. Many months later, I couldn't remember what I meant by that. And true to my faltering memory throughout this whole grief train, it came back to me at some point later. "Life Without Juanita". 

So LWJ plods forward for me. Best I can tell, I've still got 3 major blockages. First, opening the picture albums and sorting through the pictures I want to keep. Too many albums to deal with copying everything before I had over what I don't want to her 2 adult children that I am estranged from. Second, our yard. Our yard was always so beautiful, lush, green, flowers and groundcovers everywhere. So many good memories of our time spend together in our back yard. I so dreaded Spring. I've let the yard go for 2 growing seasons now, and it breaks my heart how I let it go. The final blockage I recognize is reading the cards we gave each other through the years. I read just one card about 5 months into this grief and I wailed for hours. Those will be the last I get to, our private words of love to each other. I never realized what happened to those cards. Just never thought about her keeping them. Thank God she did. Someday I will draw strength form them. We had true love for over 30 years. But that love is completely unique from any other love because true love is born between the two individuals involved. Change one of the persons, and true love changes. Still true love, just a different true love as unique as the subsequent love partner is from everyone else in this world. It is kinda like a recipe for say, Potato Salad. It is still potato salad no matter who makes it, but from cook to cook, the ingredients and spices vary depending on who is involved in making it.

One thing that has held true to me in my grief is falling in love with nearly every woman I've dated. Fast love. Usually by the 2nd date. And I lost both my filter and my common sense. Took me a while to realize what I thought was love was really not. Much was subconciously trying to fill this huge void in my heart, and return to the "happy bubble" I found myself in for all the years I was with Juanita. And I learned you can't manufacture a new happy bubble. It comes with true love.

I've got a new girlfriend. We met Feb 19 via online dating. She lives 3 blocks from me, the first local woman I dated. We've seen each other all but 2 days since we met. I love her and she loves me. And we have a "happy bubble". She's already a true friend. And such a good listener as I ramble through my stories and laughs at my attempts at humor. She comforts me. And we are becoming an "us". She seems to understand my grief journey as best as someone whose never been on this grief train can. She is genuinely interested in my life with Juanita and such a good soundboard as I come to grips with this new reality. And we are both in agreement that we wait a full year before making any life-merging decisions that eventually come to committed relationships. I'm eating 2 meals a day, she makes certain of that. I lost so much weight this past year. Some days I would eat nothing, others just my 2 egg mcmuffins on work mornings. I barbequed ribeye steaks tonight, and she prepared the potato salad and the baked beans. No family. Just the 2 of us, and it was nice. And yesterday, she managed to get me out of the house and into the back yard simply by taking the bull by the horns and starting the back yard cleanup without me. Blockage broken. And today, she suggested that I try doing just a couple of things inside my home. She liked my idea of maybe vacuming my carpets and sweeping the kitchen floor. And so I did. Really, I don't like how I've let the house go, inside and out. It is all about baby steps though. Grandious plans and projects are hard for me to pull of these days. Takes me so much longer now to do anything, and I was always a slow poke in my prime. Perfectionism has always been a double-edged sword for me. But now even that character flaw is leaving me.

So what is this piece really about? Life. I have it and I embrace it as best I can. But this life is different. And this life is difficult. I live in the moments. Future planning remains difficult for me. But my love and I just bought tickets to a ZZ Top/Doobie Brothers concert to be held in August. Been a long time since I planned anything that far ahead. But hey, tickets nearly sold out the 2nd day, so as they say, Early bird gets the worm. And this bird really likes Rock n Roll. A different life for sure. Not better, not worse. Just a different happy bubble is all. But I notice that in those rare instances when I'm not with my new love interest or at work, I'd better keep my mind occupied because there is no happy bubble when I'm by myself. Choo Choo all. ~~~ Scottie