But somehow, tonight I am going to sleep in Miami.
Not exactly my plan for the day.
I even got to surprise my mother-in-law.
My only excuse for this huge change in plans is I am a widow.
I can control very little.
Including my emotions.
Including what city I wake up in.
It started last night.
Or maybe it started on the way back from Seattle.
I am not sure.
I just started feeling out of sorts.
I read John Grogan's memoir on the way back from Seattle and it just hit home a lot.
I was bawling on the plane as the author talked about his own struggle with taking his father off life support. I had no idea the book was going to end that way.
Thankfully the middle seat next to me was empty and the guy in the aisle was paying little attention to me.
Or at least he pretended not to see me.
For which I am grateful.
Yesterday, I could not get myself in the mood to pack for or get ready to go to New York.
I had no energy. No motivation.
I was feeling pretty low so I bought a cupcake as my dinner from a local bakery to see if that would make me feel better.
Nope.
It just made me feel fat and have a sugar overload.
And then there was some stress.
It was silly.
Normal people would not have been stressed about it.
I would not even been stressed out about it a year ago.
It was all about getting into my friend's apartment in New York.
She could leave the apartment key under the mat but I would still have to wait for someone to come out to open the building.
Or I could come to her office which I did not know where it was, pick up the key, and then figure out how to get back to her apartment with my luggage.
Or I could find something else to do for three to four hours with my luggage in tow while she was at work.
I could not seem to make a decision.
None of the options seemed to work for me.
I was getting completely stressed out.
I was feeling sick with stress.
"Ok, going on an exciting trip like this is not suppose to be stressful. Especially for something this silly."
So I decided not to go.
In somewhat of a haste but I immediately felt less stressed.
But my bags were packed.
I had only been about forty minutes from leaving my house for the airport.
And I hate unpacking.
So about twenty minutes later, I decided to head to Miami.
After last week, I wanted to see Matthew.
I felt like I would feel better and less stressed if I saw sweet Matthew.
I also was feeling a bit guilty about not seeing my mother-in-law for her first mother's day without Roger.
As I was getting ready to leave for Miami, I noticed something else was different.
Something simple and silly.
The guy who mows my yard had asked me during the week what to do about some bushes that were dying in my backyard.
Stupid bushes.
Stupid stupid bushes.
Roger planted them last summer after relocating them from the front yard.
They never really took.
I think he took too long to replant them. Damn him.
They have been dying for the last eight months.
Slowly but surely turning brown. Damn them.
"Just pull them up. I do not think they are going to make it."
Which if I am honest with myself, they never really looked like they were going to make it.
Even right after Roger planted them.
As I looked into my backyard this morning, I noticed they were gone.
The landscaper did what I asked him.
It is not like he did it without my permission.
Damn it, it was even my idea.
But I started to cry.
The bushes were gone.
They were just bushes.
They were dead bushes.
But it is just another thing that disproves Roger's existence.
They are gone. Just like him.
So today I feel more wobbly.
Like one big wind and I will fall over.
One big push and I will fall apart.
Seeing Matthew for the first time and holding him for a good two hours did help.
And I felt like I was in the right place being here with my family. I feel like I need them and maybe they need me.
But I still feel like I am going through another cycle of grief.
One of many.
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