I've been feeling a bit emotional today. A lot of this day reminds me of Kevin. First with a happy feeling and smile. Then ... sadness.
In my attempt to rein in expenses I called Spectrum, planning to ditch cable TV, but hang on to Internet service. Use to be Bright House. Was bought up by Spectrum which sent a letter last year explaining we would get the same stellar service and there would not be a rate hike. They've found reasons to nickel and dime we customers twice since.
Kevin had whittled the service down to a point where he could still watch baseball. Sadly, he never got to watch his favorite teams last year.
So, I've been putting off dealing with the cable people until today. I called and at first ended up with "new Sales" department. The guy immediately assumed I wanted to add a land phone to cable and Internet. When I told him no, he laid it on about how cell phones aren't very dependable and what if I lost my found and had an emergency.. I wanted to tell him how I've gotten by for several years now with a cell phone, I'd be fine. Instead, I thanked him for his concern and he transferred me to the right department.
This guy was all peppy and when he asked why I didn't want TV, I replied that my husband recently passed away and I need to cut my expenses. He told me he was sorry for my loss and waited a few seconds before warning me about having a perfectly good TV taking up space in the living room and not being able to use it. I politely told him I can watch NetFlix on my otherwise dormant TV.
He did manage to talk me into keeping some bare minimum channels. He reassured me I could dump TV altogether if I still didn't want it.
I hate dealing with things like that. How is it we are suckered into paying for TV? Bad enough having to pay for Internet. If Kevin were here today, it would be a moot point though as he'd be gearing up for baseball season.
After Zumba class I went to the new Aldis just down the street from home. I feel sorry for Publix because they lost me. What excites me most is the the produce section. Stephanie told me yesterday that the cantaloupes at her Aldis in Palm Beach County are sweet and just 99 cents. I bought two of them along with a pineapple, strawberries and bananas. Organic. Plus enough veggies to make many different dishes.
This afternoon I started cutting up a cantaloupe and I felt so happy. I thought, "Kevin is going to love this." Then it hit me. Kevin loved this time of the year and most of summer because he could never get enough fruit. Cantaloupe and berries were his favorites as well as pineapple and watermelon. He decided I was pretty good at picking out the sweetest and freshest fruits.
Last year at this time, Kevin wasn't eating well. He'd still eat a few pieces of cantaloupe, but not like when he would sometimes eat a half of one for dessert. Those days haunt me. Doctors and nurses would say to me, "He needs to eat." No matter how hard I tried I couldn't force him to eat, and I know it was because he couldn't. I was in the middle, trying to do what the medics told me to do and then having to keep pushing Kevin to do something he could not do.
I did a lot of dusting and ran the vacuum this afternoon. Hadn't been done properly in a while and I believe the dust has something to do with my drippy sinuses. As I was doing it I thought about the year Kevin was ill and how I made every effort to keep our home dust free. While he was home with Hospice care, the last time I ran the vacuum before he died, he raised his hand and said, "Don't." I stopped, thinking he didn't want the vacuum noise, Or that I was stirring up dust around him. I don't know why he wanted me to stop.
His box of ashes sit on his rocking chair in a corner of the living room. I talked to him as I moved the box to clean his pillow where the box sits. I told him, I would just be a minute and the room would be fresh and clean again. I wished it was Kevin sitting there reading, with a cup of tea. I would've welcomed an eye roll and a teasing groan as he lifted his feet for me. I would gladly share the cantaloupe with him.
Days like this remind me of what I lost, what everyone who knew him lost. It still doesn't always register. There are glimpses of hope that I will wake up from this very sad dream. Then I take a deep breath and thank my lucky stars for the life we shared. I miss him everyday. Some days, more than others.
Here is Kevin eating watermelon on the National Mall in Washington, DC, July 4th, 2000. It is the same day he shook hands with the Dalai Lama.
Thank you for reading my blog posts and your best wishes and comments. I appreciate hearing from you. Nancy