Reflections When I Am Alone
I lost my late husband Rich a few months after we closed on and moved into our first home. This month marks the first full month Augustus and I have lived in our new home (granted mostly a construction site). A few days ago, I made Augustus promise he would not leave me by way of dying. Of course, this is an absolutely unrealistic, impossible, and perhaps a spiritually unconscious request. No human being can change the course of their divinely-intended outcome, no matter how “accidental” it may appear.
My husband responded by enfolding me into his arms and whispering “I promise” into my hair. I may slap this declaration onto my website's blogpost as a way of inviting its readers to help me hold Augustus accountable. But will that matter? I mean, really?
This promise felt sincere and yet unconvincing at the same time. My late husband said more or less the same thing in our wedding vows, “I take you Angela to be my lawfully wedded wife (…blah, blah, blah…) until death do us part.” No one ever plans for the last part of the vow, and how can we?
One expression Augustus and I use often, and somehow its truth has not yet been worn out, is “I have just fallen more deeply in love with you.” However, the last time this left my lips, I suddenly felt a red flag in front of my heart. Remember what happened the last time you let go completely to a love that was yours by divine birthright?
This silent voice made me pause.
Oh shit. Maybe if I keep writing, I will find an answer to that question. Can I bravely travel this familiar road by lining it with prayers and affirmations that this new adventure won’t also end in tragedy?
And this is a BIG adventure. At least 3,800 ft.² full of a new life and fresh beginnings. Augustus has spent more than two years of seven-day work weeks to build this home of our dreams. This weekend, he is finally getting a break. I just dropped him off at the United departure gate at Asheville Regional Airport where he will catch a flight to Lake George for his beloved annual guy's fishing trip. It is a soggy day here in Western North Carolina, the mountains are cloaked in a veil of dense fog. They appear as I feel inside because this is the first moment I have been in our home alone.
Tonight and maybe tomorrow I will be alone.
I haven’t spent this much time by myself in a very long time. Will I enjoy my own company? Since I am most comfortable with a plan, I loosely sketched what I will do with myself. Beginning with filling this journal page. Finish the decaf honey oatmilk Starbucks latte in my hand, followed by a nap. Prepare for our carpet installation the day after he returns by trimming the insulation foam off the stairs where they meet the wall. No problem, perhaps a bit messy. Maybe I’ll start tomorrow.
A few days ago, I began considering the logistics of this home and I discerned that I would not be able to reside at 103 Ball Gap Road without Augustus. I mean physically, I need a tall man to reach the special light switches like he does. I certainly won’t be able to reach any of the tall windows that need cleaning like he can. It is much easier to consider the physical impact of his absence rather than the emotional devastation.
This is a lot to think about so I poured myself a large glass of Retro Rouge red table wine to enjoy with my Italian Sausage Power Bowl microwave dinner. As I swirl the glass, I acknowledge I may feel temporarily fearful. Then I realize while I may be physically sitting here by myself right now, I trust that I am never actually alone. As I deeply breathe in this truth, I feel my shoulders relax, and I remember that God is always with me. Even when I lost Rich and certainly years later when I met Augustus, God was at my side. I can’t predict how this new adventure will unfold, but I try to remember my biggest worries rarely manifest.