Imagine me and you, I do

I think about you day and night, it's only right to think about the one you love...

But I am getting mind blocked, locked in and locked down with the mate. I can understand easier now why some people might have to move from the home they shared. The mate is everywhere - and not there at all. The contrast rips at your heart every minute.

You think, if you put their things out of sight you won't hurt so badly. You start with the small things, throw out the old tooth brush, the hair brush, dust off the after shave and cologne and put it back for someone to use up, stall at the electric razor and shove it back in the box on the shelf for no reason other than you can't decide what else to do with it.

But the next time you go in there it looks all wrong and that hurts too, the gaps where those things used to be stand out like billboards in the flat lands. It just seems like you can't win for losing. It's either wrong or filled with them and you realize it doesn't matter, you are going to hurt anyway. And again you cry.

At night, when I am busy not sleeping, I have had long, heavy thoughts about the thing that is me and the thing that was him and the love between them. The bible study Tuesday went way off track to help me deal with this in the way I was raised to believe. (which is not quite the way I believe now, but we don't tell the Mom that often..)

I have been trying to resolve the NDE, the acknowledgment of the truth that I am more than, but trapped in, this flesh, nourishing the flesh, fighting cravings of the flesh and still feel the hunger of the spirit for the touch of the spirit and nourishment for my spirit.

The mate and I KNEW we loved the spirit/essence/soul of the other. He often called me the other half of his soul and I reciprocated the feeling completely. While he could be a major hunk, much of the time we were both overweight and dealing with health issues. While we always partied with the bodies, it was the spirits, the souls, that we loved in each other. The true selves. Flawed and deceitful as they could be, our selves were drawn to comfort, support and love each other like two reciprocating magnets.

While I have issues with the needs of the flesh, I feel more the need to commune with the self that is gone from here now. I just don't know how. There have been dreams and more coincidences than I am willing to share here ( you wouldn't believe me anyway) I want to just hear him talk back to me. But again, ears are flesh..so darn, that isn't going to work. Next idea?

I have spent some time over last weekend putting his memorial page together and I hung it at http://herway.com/mydarling/ . It has all the material that was here and the article from the last chapter newsletter I received by our friend and current Chapter Director. It's there for the kids, for me and for his friends to go to when we need to think of him. When I get more material from others I will add it there.

It was a comfort to me to try, once again, to let the mate know I not only loved, but respected him and would do full honor to his memory. Sometimes he was too modest. (not often...lol)

My man had all his medals from his years in the army burn up in the fire of '89. Parts of them survived. The metal piece from his Meritorious Service Medal survived but the hanger bar was destroyed. This is awarded to a member of the Armed Forces of the United States who, while serving in a noncombat area after 16 January 1969, has distinguished himself or herself by outstanding meritorious achievement or service. Before that date he would have received a Bronze Star.

All that means is, while you were not getting shot at, you did something very brave. My mate saved a man's life by bodily pulling him from the moving turret of a tank before he was ripped in half. The man was probably also one of his men and he would have felt terrible about it because there were two in danger and he could only save one of them.

My mate didn't get a medal for saving my life. Something brought up in my busy, busy head one night, the comparison of where I was when we met - mentally, emotionally and financially - with where the mate has left me today. He really should get a medal for pulling me back together, moving me down the road and teaching me to function in society....LOL, "He taut me ta wok and ta tok, he did!" and then he tricked me into liking it.

I don't want to go back to being a free spirited and homeless wandering minstrel. I want to be a free spirited, self supporting, home based something. I like having a yard and a door to shut the world out and a vehicle that runs. I like my gardens and my birds and pets. I have two gutiars now, when I want to play them, and several harmonicas. All the things I said back near Christmas, that I was content, happy and had every thing I wanted, is still true, and he gave that truth to me. All I don't have is him to share it with. I'd give it all up and throw in my shoes, too, to have him back, but it's not going to happen. Deal with it! I tell me. Screw off, I answer.

We started out with so close to nothing that you could get most of what we had, in better shape, at any good junk store. His Harley and my gutiar were our only treasures. Toss in a dog and three cats for our entertainment. Butch Cassidy (girl), Spike Jones (girl) and the Sundance Kid (male) made up our little hole in the wall gang, and were led by the dog Clementine, a half lab half dane mut. Add a ten by fifty trailer that the doors locked on if you lifted them just a little, with one beater S-10 truck and there ya had it, white trash heaven!

So I am upper lower class now instead of barely poverty level, this is a problem?

It's all in the perspective. I'm working on it.

You showed me how, mate.

I can do this.