I took my kids and ran away from my home this weekend. I went to Victoria – about 5 hours of travel time by land and sea to get there.
It wasn’t really a “run away” such as an escape. I had planned it for weeks and was very much looking forward to it.
When I’m in Victoria, there’s no memory associations with Mark. It’s somewhere I can go, and just enjoy being with my friends.
(us waiting to get on the ferry)
This weekend, I made new friends.
After the derby bout, instead of the derby after party – we went to my friend’s friends house. It was a lovely house party, lots of fun conversations, lots of laughs, ad they had lots of drinks. I had fun.
Somehow, the conversation only briefly turned to my husband’s death. That happened when I was talking to a nurse about different nurses and their personalities and the nurse asked me what happened.
That was it.
The rest of the night was talking about other people and relationships and roller derby and burlesque and flirting and talking and fun.
Somehow… that didn’t seem right. But at the same time, was SO peaceful. To be able to just talk and be and not explain what has gone on, and see the looks and see the sympathy, just to meet new people and enjoy their company… was so freeing.
The grief takes over my life. Every where I go, everything I do, reminds me of him. The ONLY place I’ve been where I can just “be” and relax and not remember EVERY. SINGLE. MINUTE. is Victoria when I’m visiting my friends over there.
I sleep in our bed. In our bedroom. Where his dresser and clothes are. In our house. Where pictures of him are. Where his fishing gear is. I leave and I drive our vehicle. To places we went. To do things we did together.
I wouldn’t have it any other way – I love the reminders of him – but when I step off the ferry and am at Sarah’s house… there’s a weight that lifts for a time.
I have no associations of him over there.
So while this THING that is so very in my FACE all the time seems like EVERYONE should be affected by it… but really… it’s just me and the kids. Everyone else goes on with their lives. Everyone else has other concerns, other situations, and my husband’s death is not a topic of conversation.
So this weekend when everyone is sitting around talking… to have him not even brought up… seems wrong.. but felt right. It was exactly what I needed.
I need to be reminded that it’s not all about me. Life goes on and life will go on for me…. and I will enjoy these escapes into other peoples lives whenever I can.
Dinner at Boston Pizza