Not quite done with bedroom updates

Or, Which Books Where?

After finally getting the bookshelf up, I find myself at an impasse as to which books I want to move from the living bookcase onto it: the bigger ones, which would leave more space in front of the smaller ones left behind, or the smaller ones, which are less likely to warp the singly-stacked boards? Furthermore, I had to explain to my grandson that just because I had cleared off a shelf in the living room that that doesn't mean it will stayed clear (i.e., that I might have to move some of the books back out there) to make sure that he doesn't cover a bookshelf I might need later with photos or similar stuff. Finally, between starting this post and then eventually getting back to finishing it, I left a comment in an internet discussion in response to someone (who happened to be atheist) who said his significant other was dying of ovarian cancer. Shared some of my experience going through a similar situation with Lorena and how quickly it went from thinking she had years to live still to her death. A bit drained by it, so I'll end here.

Getting so much (or at least somewhat) better all (or at least some of) the time

Then again, I suppose it depends on what's getting better.  Physically, I feel good... like I knew that I would now.  Ok, maybe "know" is a bit strong considering how I have been feeling the past few days due to the heat.  However, at the moment, whether it's because it's early morning and it hasn't heated up yet, the temperature has cooled a little, or maybe my figuring out that the fan has a high¹ setting for a reason, I seem to have a bit more energy.  Oh, great.  Just as I finish writing that, my eyes don't want to stay open.  After these messages, I'll be right back.
So... did you miss me?  Of course you did.  But let's return to our feature discussion and turn to how I have been dealing with my wife's death.  That remains virtually unchanged: long periods of coping followed by gut-wrenching moments of one thing or another reminding me of her.  Even events as innocuous as buying a rotisserie chicken (the focal point of many of meal since moving to Los Angeles) become an opportunity for such an attack, as if going to or arriving at one of the bus stops near our home or shopping at the pharmacy that filled her prescriptions or the other stores and restaurants in the same plaza didn't provide enough.  Yet from the very fields of familiarity where grow such weeds of sorrow also sprout forth the soothing herbs of tender memories.  Perhaps time can teach me how to better tend the latter while eliminating the other.

My lady in red (or whatever color[s] she chose to wear)

Today's Recent Widower Review comes courtesy of Chris De Bergh^22¾

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright

Every day she grew lovelier in my eyes.

I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance
They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance

I might have a few objections to that.

And I have never seen that dress you're wearing
Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes,

Then again, my wife was a prolific shopper, although there were several pieces of clothing (but only one dress) that I don't ever recall seeing her wear, some with tags still on them.  As the three packages of men's dress socks and three tubes of shower body wash that I found unopened further demonstrate, she always seemed to be buying items to use for later but then never got around to using them.  Furthermore, she wasn't much of a dress wearer, because I only found the one aforementioned dress.

I have been blind

But then again, we all seem to be in our own little ways.  I'm no exception to that.

The lady in red...

I haven't really come across much of her clothing that is red.  She did have a pair of pink pajamas and two (actually four, but two of them were quite small and designed to be worn with their respective piece among the other two and thus I wouldn't consider them separate) other garments that I would call sleepwear except however often I may have seen her wear them to bed, I don't recall her actually getting to sleep in them.

...is dancing with me, cheek to cheek

If we ever danced together, I don't recall it.  It doesn't seem to be an activity that she enjoyed.

There's nobody here, it's just you and me

And sometimes one or two of three grandsons, one daughter, or one sister living with us, if I remember correctly.  Although I think the total time would be less than a year.  Also, she went to visit various family frequently, so sometimes it wasn't even just her and me.

It's where I want to be

Always and forever, love of my life.

but I hardly know this beauty by my side

Maybe I should have asked more, but she didn't seem to like revealing much of her past life before she met me.

I'll never forget the way you look tonight

Sometimes such visions haunt me, sometimes they comfort me, and sometimes they do both.

I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing
I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side

And now we're back to a slight variation of the first few lines.  Although she was amazing.  Nor would I mind people wanting to be by her side (well, depending on the reason) like I would men wanting to dance with her while looking for romance.

And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away
And I have never had such a feeling
Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight

... and every other night.  The rest is mostly chorus and repetition until the last line, so I'll just skip to that:

I love you

 I can't think of anything to add to that.

I just learned how to change the cover photo on my Google+ profile

Words cannot describe how beautiful she is to me.  And the emotions every time I see it: love, pain, joy, sorrow, blessedness, betrayal (how dare she leave me alone?), and too many more to sort them all out.  Then there are the questions to which I do not know the answer.  I have to restrain myself from punching the monitor so that I no longer can see it while at the same time wanting to linger on it, caressing the image of her face (why can't it be the real thing?).
I hope that no one reading this is bothered by my remembering this Memorial Day someone who fell in the battle against cancer.  I didn't plan it this way, it just happened.

It's the End of the World As We Know It And I (Mostly) Feel Fine

Welcome to the first installment of recent widower's reviews, where I (the recent widower in question) look at some songs and possibly other media that relate- however remotely- to how I feel since my wife's death.
It should become a semi-regular feature on this blog since it's easy to do (except when I'm using it as a dual-purpose post, like this one) and I need filler from time to time.  So let's get to it.

It's the End of the World As We Know It And I (Mostly) Feel Fine

Welcome to the first installment of recent widower's reviews, where I (the recent widower in question) look at some songs and possibly other media that relate- however remotely- to how I feel since my wife's death.
It should become a semi-regular feature on this blog since it's easy to do (except when I'm using it as a dual-purpose post, like this one) and I need filler from time to time.  So let's get to it.