“Whoa…I feel good! Knew that I would. So good, so good….” — James Brown’s song lyrics perfectly describe today!

Back on the porch pondering in the swing with Penelope sun bathing in her play pen. Didn’t lose my bagel this morning and had some cantaloupe with it and drank my coffee without sugar. Course I always say I like a little coffee with my creamer so don’t know if one less spoon of sugar is much of a health benefit. But you got to start off with baby steps.

Got the first spring seed catalog in the mail today. Chief loved a seed catalog so much. Always got excited when they started arriving. He’d sit in his rocking chair in front of the fire and make little lists of the type of seeds he wanted to order. Now I’m looking at the catalogs and making a list, sadly without him. He always wanted to grow different things. Purple tomatoes, Chinese cabbage (which is really good), odd eggplants, and different squash varieties. Always told him to just plant the things we like but he couldn’t resist the temptation of the seed catalogs.

Always used a money order for his catalog buys and would watch for the mailman to bring his orders. He’d take all the seed packs out and show me when I came home from work. He saved seeds from his garden, too. Mama always fussed at me about the ears of corn he’d put on the living room mantle to dry. Never bothered me. I’d always say, “It’s his house, too!”

Not a day goes by that I don’t have a Chief knife to the heart moment of grief. Today I was reading about how many families lost loved ones to Covid. These spouses and families had no human touch through the grieving process due to Covid restrictions. And the thousands who died in hospitals without loved ones by their sides. That is heartbreaking.

Funeral gatherings and the family meals together are a special part of the grieving process. When Rosalyn died our house was full of family and friends. After the funeral, the house was again full of family and friends eating together, laughing, and remembering Rosalyn. For a brief time the world spun on its axis correctly. Then every one went home and our family started the process of trying to learn how to live in the world without her.

When Chief died we had only family at the funeral. Stew and I had Covid at the same time Chief did so we were alienated from the human touch. After the funeral we said goodbye to my son Thomas and his family in the front yard with masks on our faces. When they drove away, Stew and I just turned around and went back in the cold, dark house.

Chief’s sister lived next door and I was afraid to visit since we were recovering from Covid. I needed the closure of the family and friends rallying around me, the sitting down to a meal, listening to the stories and conversations about Chief. When I finally went to see his sister we just wept and talked about we how didn’t have closure. I had lost my husband and she had lost her brother, her only sibling. Sadly her husband would die a month later.

I’m thankful for my family and my siblings. They rallied around us and sent care packages. But what I wanted was a shoulder to cry on and someone to hold me. To me one of the saddest things about being a widow is the thought that no one will ever hold my hand again. I loved to put my hands in Chief’s warm, callused hands. My sweet grandchildren hold my hands frequently so in hindsight I do have someone to hold my hand.

I’m just thankful I was able to hold Chief’s hand when he left this earth.