As I have mentioned, when I first became widowed, I read a lot.
I gleaned a lot of advice.
One bit of advice that I took to heart was to redecorate my home.
Even if it was as simple as moving around the furniture or repainting.
I have done a little of both.
In November and December (yes, both months since I was doing it alone, had some holidays in between, and I did not do it everyday), I painted the formal living room and dining room.
It did help.
The finished product looks great. I love these rooms.
It also gave me a sense of accomplishment which I need any positive feedback I can get these days.
I did the entire project alone. I am strong and I am woman, here me roar.
It was also a little "so there" moment as Roger had wanted to wait to paint the interior of the house and he was not quite sure about my color choices.
But it brought up a lot of feelings I was not quite sure about or perhaps ready for.
It was hard to deconstruct my little wedding niche I had created just last summer (2008).
It hurt like hell.
As I have been staring at my family room and kitchen walls, I wanted to paint them as well.
But I was quickly reminded of all the work involved. The prepping, the priming, the rolling, the cleanup, ugh.
But I wanted these walls painted, damn it!
So I hired someone. He will also be painting outside of Roger's old house which I am sure will bring up even more feelings but I will cross that bridge when that actually happens.
One bridge at a time.
He started this morning and so far I am pleased.
I love the color choice (another "so there" moment).
And again I had to deconstruct the room a bit.
This time however, it was not half as bad.
As pictures came off the wall, I felt myself smiling at the pictures of our honeymoon.
Laughing at the trash the dress pictures we took in March.
And although a lot of the pictures are black and white, my feelings were not.
I had some sadness mixed in there as well.
But as I am learning and accepting, I can feel more than one thing at a time.
Emotions are crazy like that.
As I build my house, my style, and my life, I still have Roger in my back pocket (and literally under my back pocket).
I just can not deconstruct that part of my life out.
He will always be here and I like it.
But he will have to be next to my paint colors and my choices.