306 Days Without

Just looking at the number is chilling. In two months, I will be at our little RV park in Cayucos, California to celebrate his First Heavenersary. Our favorite place to visit, VST called it our Hawaii. We’d laugh at all the flight hours we were saving by staying on the mainland. Cayucos was indeed our Hawaii in the twilight of VST’s forever. On one of the last days that he shared his thoughts with me, he told me he wanted to go to the coast again. I know, VST. Me, too.

Ten months is almost one year of seasons. In the midst of winter, I realize I have been through the end of spring, a summer, and autumn without my best friend. VST made everything an adventure or building project. Either way, we enjoyed each other so much.

In 2007, both our jobs were taking a toll on us. I was a teacher for severely ill kids in the Children’s Hospital in our area. He was in charge of Child Protective Services for our county. He also helped abused elders and women. VST was one of the most popular managers in the place. If his employees needed help, he was at the ready. During fires, he was the first to call in and find out what he could do to help. Part of his duties involved making sure Foster kids were safely out of harms way during disasters. We were both stressed to the max, to put it mildly.

For a long time, in my dreams, I envisioned our cabin. I couldn’t tell where it would be, or how big, but, I knew we’d own one during our marriage. In the winter of 2013, I finally mentioned this and the hunt was on. Almost without looking, we found the most adorable little cabin, less than 900 square feet of abused space. Every inch was in need of renovation. Because of that, it was priced at a steal just for us. We took possession the night of our 25th anniversary in 2013. There was no hot as the pipes had frozen. The hot water heater had missing parts. There was no toilet. We didn’t need a frig. There was no heat, except for a wood burning fireplace.

On that first night, wondering what we had bought, we were just happy to be there together. We couldn’t sleep there that night because of the above mentioned problems, but, after the first week, all those things were fixed, and weekends would find us knee deep in pine needles and sawdust. It took us five years to finish the last project before we sold it. In those five years, we had more fun than a couple should be allowed. VST found a video on You Tube called, The Cabin. So hilarious, we would sing it on Friday nights on our way there. It was our little home 25 miles from home.

In the last 306 days, I miss so many things. Good Morning’s. Virginia City sunrises off the deck. Hot coffee. Channel 2 news. Our video game time. His walks while I made the bed. Projects. Lunch out after getting supplies. Holding hands. Arguing and seeing who could win. Making up. Talking to the kids when they called. Vacationing in the RV. A million little things. The sound of water running while he brushed his teeth. Early morning departures to places unknown. Running from storms to warm places. Yes. A million little things.

What has surprised me is that I have found many things in which to find comfort over the past months. Some routines have continued. I talk to VST a lot. I am learning to listen for signs and answers. He taught me so much about life while we shared it together. We promised to be together forever. We were. It was just that it ended up being his forever, not mine.

I heard something the other day that made sense. If a day in heaven passes in the blink of an eye, then VST will turn around and I’ll be there. It will seem like no time at all for him. For me, it seems like 306 days, plus a lifetime.

Ten balloons will grace the high desert sky today. T and K will be with me as we watch them soar. I know VST is up there watching. I know he wishes he was still here with us. Relax and enjoy heaven, VST. We will all be together again soon enough. For now, please watch over us. Send us a sign once in awhile. Give us something to laugh about. I love you so much, and miss you with all my heart. Your Darlin’, Joy