Saturday's two year milestone went pretty well. B and I were visiting my wonderful in-laws in Arizona last week, and I spent an amazing three days in Sedona while B had a "sleepover" with Papa and Grandma. I had the opportunity to release a lot of emotions in Sedona, so Saturday was quite peaceful. I created a small memorial in the family room, with a Yahrzeit candle, a picture of T, a small bag of his ashes, flowers from the garden, and several small items with emotional value. Before breakfast, B and I said a few words (well, I did the speaking) and I lit the candle. Throughout the day, coming upon the collection of symbols of T's life and the small flickering light brought me peace and comfort.
Late in the afternoon, B and I, along with my stepson D and his mother, headed up to the cemetery laden with flowers, camp chairs, a portable table, paper plates and cups, lemonade, bbq'ed tri-tip, potato salad, cole slaw... a picnic with Daddy. I brought the two poster-board photo collages I made for the kids back on the first Father's Day -- the best pictures of each of them with T. Some close friends joined us, and we sat in the afternoon sun, ran around on the grass with the kids, ate and relaxed and enjoyed being together. T would have really enjoyed it, and was with us in spirit.
Then on Sunday, I sold T's dining table and chairs. Though neither of us had much in the way of living room furniture, we both had beautiful dining sets. His was a Skovby rosewood oval pedestal table with six chairs, lovely but a bit too formal for the room and my taste. I'd been trying to sell it on craigslist sporadically since before the holidays, and each time I posted the ad, I got 1-2 inquiries, but no real action. And maybe it would have hurt more to have sold it sooner. Other than T's car and all the wine he collected, his dining set was the one material possession that had any real value, and it was loaded with sentimental value as well. We ate some of our first meals together as a couple at that table; we entertained countless times around its dark shiny surface. So the timing of letting it go, on the first day of the third year after T's death, seemed appropriate. Another small letting go, another small ending, making room for a new beginning (even if it is just the beginning of a less cluttered dining room).
On Sunday night, I initiated another ending. I told Guy that the spark just wasn't there for me, and I just wanted to be friends. Maybe by getting to know him more, the spark will reignite -- I do really like him. But I was starting to feel insincere when talk and action turned to romance, and that was my signal to stop. I'm too old and experienced to let things drag on past this point; it gets more unpleasant for all concerned. Guy was not happy, but did appreciate the honesty. And I will always appreciate his sweetness, gentleness, and kindness, as the first one after T.
So the first two years of my widowhood are at an end, as is my first post-loss relationship. I am comfortable where I am, and open to new beginnings. Who knows what will come in year three?