The windows are finally open. I don't hear the air conditioner droning on. It's things like tonight's weather that make me miss Larry the most. I forced myself to take a few minutes and lie in the comfy, ergonomically designed lounge chair that my parents bought so that Larry could sit outside. His legs were failing and we needed something he could kind of plop into easily. I think he got to use it once--that's how quickly he declined. I think I miss Larry the most when things (like tonight's weather) are good and there's no one to share them with. My tendency is to busy myself so that I don't have to feel that huge loss. But I feel it tonight. I guess that's why they call it grief. Even when things are good, it doesn't go away.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Still Climbing Uphill
I got a very nice phone call from the mother of a friend yesterday. She was widowed at age 28. Heart attack. It was nice to hear from another widow who clearly understood how much has to be handled, especially that first year but the birthday bask over, I am back to climbing uphill. There are three things I am dealing with in particular right now.
Larry's car does not feel very safe to drive. I have never liked this car. It was mine first. Yesterday the entire electrical panel of the car starting doing strange things and the engine sounded weird. Lights popping on and off on the dashboard. It felt electrical but it was scary. I was on a one lane country road. I feel like I need another car asap and don't want to rush into something. Have an appointment with Honda on Saturday.
My prescription company is not recognizing me as covered. I mentioned that I'm having a lot of pain and have two prescriptions to deal with muscle and tooth pain. I can't pick them up without paying full price due to some kind of glitch with Larry's employer whom I pay to be insured. Spent an hour trying to resolve that last night. Hopefully will be resolved by end of day.
Most disturbing is that the fish pond is leaking water from the pump causing lots of water to be lost. I turned off the pump last night after asking a neighbor if the fish would be ok. Most are. One is dying now. It's hard to watch one of Larry's fish on it's back gasping for oxygen since it takes me back to Larry's final days which were highly disturbing. If fish were warm blooded, I might find the strength to kill the fish, but knowing it is not in pain, I'm just going to let things take their course.
I'm looking forward to connecting with more widows in September to share that trauma in hopes of feeling better about it. I mentioned in a past blog that I went to a grief group in Hamilton and felt judged--like really judged for being divorced and other things too.
Larry's car does not feel very safe to drive. I have never liked this car. It was mine first. Yesterday the entire electrical panel of the car starting doing strange things and the engine sounded weird. Lights popping on and off on the dashboard. It felt electrical but it was scary. I was on a one lane country road. I feel like I need another car asap and don't want to rush into something. Have an appointment with Honda on Saturday.
My prescription company is not recognizing me as covered. I mentioned that I'm having a lot of pain and have two prescriptions to deal with muscle and tooth pain. I can't pick them up without paying full price due to some kind of glitch with Larry's employer whom I pay to be insured. Spent an hour trying to resolve that last night. Hopefully will be resolved by end of day.
Most disturbing is that the fish pond is leaking water from the pump causing lots of water to be lost. I turned off the pump last night after asking a neighbor if the fish would be ok. Most are. One is dying now. It's hard to watch one of Larry's fish on it's back gasping for oxygen since it takes me back to Larry's final days which were highly disturbing. If fish were warm blooded, I might find the strength to kill the fish, but knowing it is not in pain, I'm just going to let things take their course.
I'm looking forward to connecting with more widows in September to share that trauma in hopes of feeling better about it. I mentioned in a past blog that I went to a grief group in Hamilton and felt judged--like really judged for being divorced and other things too.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Post Birthday
My 50th was filled with lots of people showing me how much they love me. It was just what I wanted. A bit low key but at least there were no silly black balloons and over the hill cards. Lovely cards, gifts, flowers and Facebook well wishes abounded. Perhaps the worst of grief is over. May, I think I was still very much in shock, June felt pretty awful and July feels a bit more hopeful. Film fests, my birthday, a visit from my niece and new clients. July is also the month that I have the finances pretty much figured out and the bank is not going to take the house away any time soon so I feel more relaxed.
Speaking of the house, at first I tackled the yard work with the fervor of a 13-year old girl who had just been permitted a Facebook account. The yard and it's tools mysterious teachings were part of a new frontier that I was going to embrace wholeheartedly. That feeling was short lived. Thank God for my parents who help me catch up when I feel like throwing my hands in the air. I have perpetual poison ivy although it's down to a dull annoyance. During July I kept thinking, why do I feel so overwhelmed? I don't think most widows have to deal with all the special things Larry had rigged up. Larry was so proud that he never paid full price on things but what that translates to is that these product and appliances require a PhD to operate them and so were reduced to half price. I have unique and difficult setups for pond filters, garden hoses, a gas fireplace and even the air conditioners on the second floor. All of these things are a bit tricky to operate and then throw in the complications of his will (the Levittown house) and juggling three jobs and there you go. How could anyone not feel somewhat overwhelmed?
I think you can even hear it in the tone of my writing that I feel a little stronger this month except that I seem to have developed some kind of chronic fatigue issues. I don't want to go into great detail on this because I don't particularly want to feed my fear. I have not felt very well for a large majority of my life. Anyway, it has become hard to even walk without pain or drive to work without feeling sleepy so I'm beginning what will probably be a long process of blood work and MRIs tomorrow. I'm fairly certain it's a stress induced flare up of Fibromyalgia and am hoping to feel better in a month.
The word meditation came up so often after Larry's death that I finally succumbed and am enjoying a group that meets on Sundays. It's a Zen mediation with a lecture and yesterday's lecture was on giving and receiving. The Zen master mentioned how difficult it is to receive openly. As someone who still feels she has nothing to give back to people, I'd say receiving freely is definitely harder. Sometimes I wonder if God or (insert word of choice here) made me a widow to learn how to receive. I feel some guilt that I have not acknowledged everyone who wished me a happy birthday, or sent me a present, or sent a card to the house but here I am barely able to finish up a client file and cook dinner and blog. It is only 7:40 pm and I feel like I could go to bed already. Tomorrow I will buy thank you cards and divide and conquer.
I have avoided answering the calls on my home machine. I know that one of them is probably from a woman who wants to explore living here part time. It could bring in a little income that could help with the shortfall I have right now and so I need to explore that option but she doesn't seem like a very sympathetic person and has a dog and my Montana is a bit of a loose cannon with other dogs. You can just feel my ambivalence.
I want tons of control in my house right now. I want things how I want them--I don't want anyone doing anything in my house without asking first if they can clean or move something and I'm pretty busy so sometimes leave the kitchen (and other parts of the house) a mess and feel I need that luxury right now.
So that's my wrap up on July a bit early.
Oh, I am singing on Saturday, August 18 at the Arts Council of Princeton. Many people have asked and want to come. I don't have a time yet. It is an open mic which means there are many other performers and I have a 20 minute set but it's just a few dollars - $3 I think and it's the first time I'll be singing in a year. Last time was a benefit for Larry on August 20, 2011. With my new found fatigue, I'm both nervous and regretting my commitment. (Just nerves, don't worry).
Speaking of the house, at first I tackled the yard work with the fervor of a 13-year old girl who had just been permitted a Facebook account. The yard and it's tools mysterious teachings were part of a new frontier that I was going to embrace wholeheartedly. That feeling was short lived. Thank God for my parents who help me catch up when I feel like throwing my hands in the air. I have perpetual poison ivy although it's down to a dull annoyance. During July I kept thinking, why do I feel so overwhelmed? I don't think most widows have to deal with all the special things Larry had rigged up. Larry was so proud that he never paid full price on things but what that translates to is that these product and appliances require a PhD to operate them and so were reduced to half price. I have unique and difficult setups for pond filters, garden hoses, a gas fireplace and even the air conditioners on the second floor. All of these things are a bit tricky to operate and then throw in the complications of his will (the Levittown house) and juggling three jobs and there you go. How could anyone not feel somewhat overwhelmed?
I think you can even hear it in the tone of my writing that I feel a little stronger this month except that I seem to have developed some kind of chronic fatigue issues. I don't want to go into great detail on this because I don't particularly want to feed my fear. I have not felt very well for a large majority of my life. Anyway, it has become hard to even walk without pain or drive to work without feeling sleepy so I'm beginning what will probably be a long process of blood work and MRIs tomorrow. I'm fairly certain it's a stress induced flare up of Fibromyalgia and am hoping to feel better in a month.
The word meditation came up so often after Larry's death that I finally succumbed and am enjoying a group that meets on Sundays. It's a Zen mediation with a lecture and yesterday's lecture was on giving and receiving. The Zen master mentioned how difficult it is to receive openly. As someone who still feels she has nothing to give back to people, I'd say receiving freely is definitely harder. Sometimes I wonder if God or (insert word of choice here) made me a widow to learn how to receive. I feel some guilt that I have not acknowledged everyone who wished me a happy birthday, or sent me a present, or sent a card to the house but here I am barely able to finish up a client file and cook dinner and blog. It is only 7:40 pm and I feel like I could go to bed already. Tomorrow I will buy thank you cards and divide and conquer.
 |
| Loose Cannon Montana |
I want tons of control in my house right now. I want things how I want them--I don't want anyone doing anything in my house without asking first if they can clean or move something and I'm pretty busy so sometimes leave the kitchen (and other parts of the house) a mess and feel I need that luxury right now.
So that's my wrap up on July a bit early.
Oh, I am singing on Saturday, August 18 at the Arts Council of Princeton. Many people have asked and want to come. I don't have a time yet. It is an open mic which means there are many other performers and I have a 20 minute set but it's just a few dollars - $3 I think and it's the first time I'll be singing in a year. Last time was a benefit for Larry on August 20, 2011. With my new found fatigue, I'm both nervous and regretting my commitment. (Just nerves, don't worry).
Thursday, July 19, 2012
50
It is a few hours before I turn 50 years old and it's been an especially hard week because of that. I thought that Larry would be able to hang in until I turned 50. He was planning a party or something (because I'm not a fan of big parties) according to my Mom. I'm glad he isn't here for my 50th birthday simply because of the state he was in. I told him many times that it was ok to die and I begged him to die the day that he did. He couldn't communicate and usually couldn't figure out where I was in the room so wasn't making eye contact with me, I don't think he could see me. He hadn't eaten for three weeks.
I see a berievement counselor once a month. She said one of the hardest things for the spouses left behind is that their memories are much like I described above and it's a terrible memory and they just can't stop thinking about it. In September, I will join a group of young spouses who have lost their spouses. I think it will do me good. People are so incredibly insensitive that I'm growing immune to it. Just yesterday, I was filming someone Larry knew--another chef--and although he did say he was sorry for my loss (a man acknowledging Larry's death--lots of points--most men like to pretend it didn't happen and make no reference to it.), he proceeded to talk with the show host about how many of his friends are starting to die etc, etc. (Hello? Do you think this conversation might be painful for me?) As more time goes on, more people expect you to be over it. As I've said before, I feel like I was in the trenches in WWII and I saw my best friend get blown up and watched him die a slow, lingering death. That's not something you get over in a few months or six months or a year. I know that it's going to take at least a year to start to feel normal. I do not feel normal right now.
I find myself trying to do things that are normal and halfway through feeling exhausted or like it is too much. One of my friends says that the Jewish tradition has a list of things widows and widowers are supposed to avoid or not do and a timeline for it. I wish this list were universal so that people would understand the state I'm in a little better.
That being said, I am having more and more moments of contentment and sometimes even fun. I am watching lots of British period pieces that I wouldn't be able to watch if Larry were around. Just finished a good one produced in 2004 called North South. Very Jane Austin-ish.
I see a berievement counselor once a month. She said one of the hardest things for the spouses left behind is that their memories are much like I described above and it's a terrible memory and they just can't stop thinking about it. In September, I will join a group of young spouses who have lost their spouses. I think it will do me good. People are so incredibly insensitive that I'm growing immune to it. Just yesterday, I was filming someone Larry knew--another chef--and although he did say he was sorry for my loss (a man acknowledging Larry's death--lots of points--most men like to pretend it didn't happen and make no reference to it.), he proceeded to talk with the show host about how many of his friends are starting to die etc, etc. (Hello? Do you think this conversation might be painful for me?) As more time goes on, more people expect you to be over it. As I've said before, I feel like I was in the trenches in WWII and I saw my best friend get blown up and watched him die a slow, lingering death. That's not something you get over in a few months or six months or a year. I know that it's going to take at least a year to start to feel normal. I do not feel normal right now.
I find myself trying to do things that are normal and halfway through feeling exhausted or like it is too much. One of my friends says that the Jewish tradition has a list of things widows and widowers are supposed to avoid or not do and a timeline for it. I wish this list were universal so that people would understand the state I'm in a little better.
That being said, I am having more and more moments of contentment and sometimes even fun. I am watching lots of British period pieces that I wouldn't be able to watch if Larry were around. Just finished a good one produced in 2004 called North South. Very Jane Austin-ish.
Monday, July 16, 2012
What to Say
Weekends are rough. I have more time to think. I did not want to spend most of my Saturday defrosting Larry's giant old freezer and I thought it would result in having lots of things to eat but most were giant cuts of meat that I can never eat unless I throw a lot of dinner parties. You don't want me to cook for you right now, it's very hit or miss. Speaking of parties, I went to party on Sunday. It was thrown by one of Larry's few friends who hasn't abandoned me. I was nervous and hung with people I had met before. I thought that one of Larry's old friends didn't recognize me but he finally acknowledged me in the kitchen and said, "It's hard to know what to say to you right now." And I realized that most of the feeling that people have abandoned me is due to just not knowing what to say and how true that felt when he said it. I have a friend who was widowed 2 weeks after I was right down the street and I have a hard time knowing what to say to her. So I've been thinking about this and I think the things that are easier to answer are things like, "how was your week" or "describe your day" or "how have things been with your graphic art business? because it doesn't assume that you're awful or good and those two feelings change on a dime these days. Or specifics such as, how did the film festival go in Lambertville?
I wish that I could have happy memories of Larry, but when I see something that reminds me of him (tonight it was cooking oil), it only makes me sad right now. There are more and more moments when I am not thinking about what happened to Larry this past year and right now, I'm glad for that. I still have at least one moment of complete shock every day, like, "did that really happen?" It still seems incredible.
Got into one more film festival...a prestigious one. So that's 3 film fests with 2 films and am working on a piece for a big client. Work has been very good lately. Even the ribbon business is going very well.
OMG, I just burned my dinner.
I wish that I could have happy memories of Larry, but when I see something that reminds me of him (tonight it was cooking oil), it only makes me sad right now. There are more and more moments when I am not thinking about what happened to Larry this past year and right now, I'm glad for that. I still have at least one moment of complete shock every day, like, "did that really happen?" It still seems incredible.
Got into one more film festival...a prestigious one. So that's 3 film fests with 2 films and am working on a piece for a big client. Work has been very good lately. Even the ribbon business is going very well.
OMG, I just burned my dinner.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Aaaawwww FREAK OUT, (c'est chic, le freak)
This week hasn't been so bad. Did you ever start getting what you want and then freak out a little (or a lot) with anxiety? Monday had a very heart felt experience with someone who wanted to share some memories about Larry. I was able to share with him how difficult Larry's end was. Unpleasant memories, but it felt freeing to discuss it. I even got a call from one of Larry's friends who said I was on her mind. She talked about Larry's ego. I forget what brought it up, but it kind of felt good that someone else saw it. We talked about other slightly negative aspects of his personality and it was really freeing because I think people want you to say only good things about your deceased husband. Wednesday I had dinner with people who just made me laugh because they were silly. We even planned a trip to France next June. You know how I love France. Tonight a friend took me out impromptu. We played a little guitar--he's my guitar mentor actually. So three dinners and good times. Someone is throwing me a 50th birthday party. My parents got reservations at a restaurant owned by Top Chef winner Kevin Sbraga. I'm freaking out about my career which seems to be getting bigger and better. I had a meeting with a fairly prestigious client in Princeton where I'm doing a project only I didn't realize how important the project was. I know I can do a great job for them, but it seems that creatively, things are really going my way and there's a part of me that's thinking, "Oh, now I have to really deliver." or, "Now I have to be better than I actually am." I need to just relax into a new level of success. For some reason, not easy for me.
I had a little breakdown over a dead mouse in a trap under the sink that I set about 6 months ago. The mouses eyes were open when I disposed of the mouse and trap. He never saw his death coming and I thought about Larry and how shocking it was for him to realize that we had reached the end. After the holidays, it really was all over. Dead animals in any form really bother me right now although I wouldn't mind getting rid of all the flies that seem to have appeared overnight in my house.
Feeling a tiny bit better than last week physically.
I had a little breakdown over a dead mouse in a trap under the sink that I set about 6 months ago. The mouses eyes were open when I disposed of the mouse and trap. He never saw his death coming and I thought about Larry and how shocking it was for him to realize that we had reached the end. After the holidays, it really was all over. Dead animals in any form really bother me right now although I wouldn't mind getting rid of all the flies that seem to have appeared overnight in my house.
Feeling a tiny bit better than last week physically.
Monday, July 9, 2012
The Way Things Are
This is a common theme, you've heard this before from others. When Larry was alive, I wished we were further along financially. I didn't appreciate our house, thought it should be bigger in a more prestigious neighborhood. Now I realize what tremendous ease of living I have here and the house feels extraordinary for a single person. I feel lucky to live here--especially after returning from a shore house with window air conditioning units in two rooms only, no dishwasher, little counter and storage space, no parking and walking up a rickety staircase with many bags of groceries. What was it about being coupled that made me think I was entitled to more? I wanted Larry to want to be more spiritual with me, I wanted him to share my desire to be a philanthropist . I am attempting to have more gratitude for things I have. Since I have had two major tragedies in my life, I realize how things can change on a dime and I am open to things changing for the better--but I don't think that happens without gratitude. Right now, I'm just trying to have gratitude for the simplicity of being happier.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
The Jersey Shore--No Backing Out.
I was on slight vacation since Independence Day. I spent time with my parents in the Poconos. It was my first time there without Larry and I had a small panic attack about how I would relate to my parents without Larry. I wanted to leave the minute I got there. Larry was always a good buffer with my family and the holidays usually centered around what Larry would cook. My Dad felt like finally there was another male person around. It was nice to take Larry aside if a family member was driving me crazy and it was ok because we were a team. It's clear that although my family greatly admires my skills, they think that my boundary setting is odd. That's because they don't have any and so things can get dicey. After the Poconos where my parents live, I went to the shore where my parents rented a place and I was flooded with memories about going there with Larry and how we went there last summer and how little he was able to do and how I tried not to talk about it because it was clear that Larry did not want to talk about his cancer at all. Even three weeks before he died, bedridden, I felt it would be kind to see how he wanted his funeral to go and he got mad at me and didn't want to talk about it. So we hobbled around town ignoring the obvious. My last memory of the shore was a sad memory but I didn't realize it until I got there. My 16-year old niece was visiting from Florida (my deceased brother's daughter) and I was charged with picking up her friend and taking them to the shore. I didn't really want to do this, I have been feeling like maybe I have Lyme's disease because I have been in a LOT of physical pain and it seems to be getting worse. Will get everything checked out, don't worry.
Anyway, didn't want to do a lot of extra running around like going to the grocery store and getting lunch for the girls, getting money out of the bank, taking the teens to get special leave in conditioner so their newly colored hair wouldn't fade, etc, simply because I'm feeling so exhausted but I didn't feel like there was a way out. And this, to me, is the hardest part of grief...that sometimes you commit to things you are not ready for or are not up to and when you realize it, there's no backing out and it makes you afraid to commit to anything.
When we got to the shore (and I had to keep slapping myself to stay awake for the hour drive) we needed to find the rental place which wasn't ready yet, then walk to the beach loaded up with stuff and get beach tags on what was an unbearably hot day. I was getting a blister from flip flops and I was starting to get flooded with the memories of my last time in this town. I asked the girls to walk the quarter mile further for beach tags, gave them money, sat down and just had a big, fat, meltdown. The best part about crying in public is that everybody stays well away from you. I wanted to turn around and go straight home. And for no good reason, I seemed to want to blame my parents. They should have known that I wasn't up to running around for the teenagers. (The teens are lovely and grateful and it wasn't their fault.) At that point a friend called (she always seems to find moments when I'm at my lowest) and talked to me for a bit about my disappointment at feeling so much physical distress. Eventually, I got in the cool ocean water and some of the stress melted away. Then I met up with the same friend who called and who is a very interesting person and we all had a lovely evening in an unlikely restaurant because we ran into a violent storm with filled water glasses flying off of tables and crashing where just moments before people were enjoying an outdoor meal while walking to dinner. The only place that could take us in less than an hour was a very swanky bar so me, my Dad, my niece, her friend and my friend sat down on a black leather couches and chairs and had very delicious bar food.
Anyway, didn't want to do a lot of extra running around like going to the grocery store and getting lunch for the girls, getting money out of the bank, taking the teens to get special leave in conditioner so their newly colored hair wouldn't fade, etc, simply because I'm feeling so exhausted but I didn't feel like there was a way out. And this, to me, is the hardest part of grief...that sometimes you commit to things you are not ready for or are not up to and when you realize it, there's no backing out and it makes you afraid to commit to anything.
When we got to the shore (and I had to keep slapping myself to stay awake for the hour drive) we needed to find the rental place which wasn't ready yet, then walk to the beach loaded up with stuff and get beach tags on what was an unbearably hot day. I was getting a blister from flip flops and I was starting to get flooded with the memories of my last time in this town. I asked the girls to walk the quarter mile further for beach tags, gave them money, sat down and just had a big, fat, meltdown. The best part about crying in public is that everybody stays well away from you. I wanted to turn around and go straight home. And for no good reason, I seemed to want to blame my parents. They should have known that I wasn't up to running around for the teenagers. (The teens are lovely and grateful and it wasn't their fault.) At that point a friend called (she always seems to find moments when I'm at my lowest) and talked to me for a bit about my disappointment at feeling so much physical distress. Eventually, I got in the cool ocean water and some of the stress melted away. Then I met up with the same friend who called and who is a very interesting person and we all had a lovely evening in an unlikely restaurant because we ran into a violent storm with filled water glasses flying off of tables and crashing where just moments before people were enjoying an outdoor meal while walking to dinner. The only place that could take us in less than an hour was a very swanky bar so me, my Dad, my niece, her friend and my friend sat down on a black leather couches and chairs and had very delicious bar food.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Rose d'Anjou and chicken nachos
I have almost everything I would need to make chicken nachos for dinner (notice it is 8:07 pm and I'm just getting around to making dinner because I spent an hour looking for the right kind of motor oil and figuring out how to lift the hood of Larry's car which I'm now driving since Toyota repossessed the car I was driving)
If I had tacos or tortilla chips I could make these. I'm making my own version but tortilla-less tonight wihich is highly disappointing. I'm too lazy at this point to drive a mile to get them.
Larry bought all the wine in the house. Now I am discovering my own favorites. Rose d'Anjou is a wine near to where I went to school in France and where my good friends live and I have so many happy memories and I am drinking it now, celebrating all that I've accomplished this week. It goes well with strong foods like provologne chees
In the mere 8 years we were married, Larry and I went to France 3 times and all to visit my friends. He said that was a big highlight of our marriage for him, I asked him one night at the end to tell me about a happy memory of our marriage.
If I had tacos or tortilla chips I could make these. I'm making my own version but tortilla-less tonight wihich is highly disappointing. I'm too lazy at this point to drive a mile to get them.
Larry bought all the wine in the house. Now I am discovering my own favorites. Rose d'Anjou is a wine near to where I went to school in France and where my good friends live and I have so many happy memories and I am drinking it now, celebrating all that I've accomplished this week. It goes well with strong foods like provologne chees
In the mere 8 years we were married, Larry and I went to France 3 times and all to visit my friends. He said that was a big highlight of our marriage for him, I asked him one night at the end to tell me about a happy memory of our marriage.
Meltdowns and Liftoffs
One odd thing about grief is how malleable emotions can be from one moment to the next. I was in complete despair on Saturday night/Sunday morning because my car shopping experience was not what I wanted it to be, because I feel abandoned by a lot of Larry's friends, and because weekends are just hard because I have time to think about my circumstances and because I just plain miss Larry. He was very good at being a cheerleader for my life.
Now I don't know if it's possible that our loved ones are able to help our careers from beyond, but all of a sudden, I'm getting a lot of recognition for my work in video. I logged onto my computer this am to find this note from a stranger referencing a short video I made.
"Man...I loved, liked and all that jazz this video so much, so
very much that I had to get a new password just to write this. ..Well done Ms Murray and love the music.
Last night I showed a film at the Bryn Mawr Film Institute. It's like an open mic for filmmakers. Again, very high acclaim. (I didn't show the same piece). I guess life is telling me to get busy and make more videos.
If you're reading this and want to know how to help...getting out for an hour on the weekends helps so invite me for dinner or a series you like to watch on television. It doesn't have to be gourmet. I'm not really watching what I eat these days. Also, talking about a memory you have of Larry is helpful. If you're not sure, just check with me if it would be ok to talk about Larry. I might cry but I don't mind crying. The pain is already there, a cry just lets it out. Nobody is talking about Larry and it feels like his memory has disappeared from the world. I know it's because nobody wants to upset me, but to know what he left behind, how he affected people, is a gift. Just think how it feels when people tell you something good about your child.
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