I was thinking of baking yesterday. I don’t know why – I’m trying to lose some of the pounds I’ve gained from stress eating – and from cooking for two still – maybe just comfort food. Bear did not like, and I emphasize DID NOT LIKE, oatmeal cookies, so I thought I’d just make a batch. And then I realized I would have to eat all of them.

So no cookies were made. It was a day of random tears for no apparent reason. A line in a book that wasn’t even sad, and I was sobbing. I laid out a quilt, and started sobbing. I had some cold chicken for supper – and started sobbing. Had a shot of brandy – and yup – I started sobbing.

I guess it’s normal. Here’s a hint – normal sucks. I miss him with every breath, I even , almost, miss MASH. I have never felt pain like this before, not after losing two parents, and two siblings and so many aunts and uncles, I’ve lost count. I thought I knew grief. I knew nothing.

I’m really trying. I buy books, because that’s what I do – I research and read and try to learn – and I mess up the pages with tears dripping. And some days I just want to go to bed and not get up until next year.

Maverick won’t allow that. He insists on me getting off the sofa so I can watch him take a drink of water from his fountain. He insists that I need to get off the sofa so he can make 3 circuits of the house before deciding that he really doesn’t need to pee, and goes back to bed. It drives me nuts but I think he’s doing his best as well.

Today is raining and gloomy and there are thunderstorms threatening. I have to go teach a class – I was dreading this, having not been on campus since Covid, and being an emotional mess – but it’s been a blessing. I tried to get through the first class without any tears and I did okay till the end. I decided to share with them that my husband had passed away in May and I asked them for patience if I should have a random moment for no apparent reason. They have been amazing. It’s a small class, and they all actually talk! I also told them that the powers that be have gutted the curiculum and I have trouble filling the time – and while I could get away with letting class out and hour early when it was remote, I can’t do that on campus. So we spent one day going over the material, in depth. The next class, we spent going over all of the “end of chapter exercises” together. I was astonished at how well that went. We actually “argued” with the book about some of their answers, students were madly Googling for information and sharing, and that would prompt further discussion, and I just watched.

Moments of joy, grab on to them.

Also, when Bear came home for the last time, he was in the family room, where the cuckoo clock he so loved hangs on the wall. It has 3 pendulums, one for the time and two for the chimes (I’m told that’s not the correct term, but I don’t care). You have to hold the pendulum, which is pretty heavy, and pull the chain connected to it, to wind the clock and the mechanism for the cuckoo. He asked me to wind the clock, so I did – and stopped it somehow. He said I had wound it too tight, and I told him I would figure out how to fix that later. Later didn’t come till last week. I had accidentally hit the little switch – a wire that dangles from the bottom of the clock – and turned off everything. I got it started by moving the swinging thingie, but when I set the time, I bumped the hour hand loose. Deep breath. Google was my friend. I got that fixed, it was ticking along merrily. But no cuckoo. Google again. Got the cuckoo started, but it was 4 hours out of sync. Everything I read said to take the clock apart. Umm, no. I paid way too much for that baby to mess around with the insides! And Bear loved it too much for me to totally screw it up. I finally found a way to get it fixed. Now it’s merrily chiming the hours and the half hours and I think he’d be proud of me. I always told him I didn’t know how to do anything, and he would say “you know more than you think.”

Well, damn, there go the tears again.