94

June Cleaver got to live to 94.

Spent the afternoon watching Cam Newton beat Arkansas.  Well, Cam Newton and the Arkansas defense. See how I sound like I know what I'm talking about?  I actually am beginning to follow things a bit better (and go running to Google every time I don't know a term, like "special teams" or "turnover" or "pass interference," or need to find out what on earth is happening in general).  Today's was quite a game, with murky calls and lots of interceptions by Auburn and lots of Cam Newton smiling.  (Figured out today I was 27 when he was born.  God, I'm old.)  And a final score that sounded more like something out of a basketball game.

Whatever that thing out there is that's cheeping... it's at it again.  Shone a flashlight out the window at the trees just now, but didn't see anything.

Still no sign of life from the water softener.  I need to see when it's set to run - I can't get it to work manually.  Anyway, it has until Monday and then I'm calling the repair guy.

Wondering if starting in on season 1 of Six Feet Under will turn out not to be such a good idea.  So far, some crying triggered by bodies on gurneys.  But I'm going to keep going for a while, see how I like it (so far, so good).

Tired.  And feeling like I'm living in some sort of weird limbo, like this isn't real life somehow.  I don't know if I think real life will return when Jerry does, or if I think I'll emerge from this strange state some time in the future without him.  All I know is, I can't spend the rest of my life feeling like this... or there isn't much point to it.  I realize that it's most likely that I won't (so I'm told, and so I read).  But it's hard not to think like a child and feel like nothing will ever change, nothing will get better.  Even while I know already that things have changed, even since June.  I do some things now I couldn't have imagined doing right after Jerry died, stupid things perhaps, but if you'd told me I'd go out and buy new clothes, get a haircut I like, have my eyebrows done, watch football games... care enough about anything to do even these superficial things... I wouldn't have thought it would be possible.  Still a long slog ahead, I know, to get through to what I hope will be a happier existence, a life, even.  Still a ways to go to accept that Jerry isn't coming back.  Still a long path to travel to have memories of Jerry that make me smile without also breaking my heart in a million pieces every time I think of him, millions of times every hour.  But I think I at least see the beginning of that path... and possibly have taken a step or two towards it, if not on it.