Getting Older And Grieving

7:30 am, Thursday

May 31, 2001

Dearest Darling,

First Methodist Church of Waverly, after the building
renovations were completed (elevator included)

I just woke up. I  am missing you and thinking about you. You are the first thing that I think of in the morning and the last thing at night.

It has been cooler all the past week. In fact, I don't even have the air conditioning unit on, just running the ceiling fans and it's very comfortable.

Last night, Chairman Jim Williams presented the plans for an elevator and "Life Center" building to the church after a potluck dinner. I wondered how you would have felt about it and what questions you would have asked. It will be expensive, about $500,000, and I don't know if our congregation will pay for it. We do need the elevator for three people now, and probably more as time goes by. A better kitchen is needed, too.

Today, I am having lunch with Bob and Sue. It's the last chance to be with them between their trip to Georgia to be with their son, Brad, and mine to Dearborn with the Frensleys. We are going to meet at Carol's Restaurant for her Sunshine Salad (chicken and fruit). 

Barbara DeBoe called yesterday as I was leaving for church and I called her back when I got home. Bill had another ministroke and Barbara is scared. I know the feeling. Bill had a stroke two years ago. The handwriting is on the wall: AGE. And will Bill will be retiring this year, in October or December. Yes, I plan to see them in June. 

Ben Vaughn is better from his stroke. He still has to go for physical therapy, but he can get in the car, can play cards. Barb said Ben has difficulty talking, still.  But Ben has come a long way.

I hadn't cried until now and I am again. I was beginning to think that I was "handling it better," but I'll never stop mourning my loss of your company and your love.

I know you are here in spirit (at least I believe that), but I want more. I loved and lived with you too long to suddenly let go. I read articles about grief and listen to speakers and it all sounds good. But I think the utter loss of your presence is something more than my heart and mind can bear. 

I love you so much. The past 50 years has been all about you. I can't change now. 

All my love always, 

Norma