I had expectations for myself. Don’t ask me where I got those expectations, because no one placed them upon me but they were there and they were real. Perhaps I was expecting to react to Sonny’s death the way we reacted to bad news. We would get knocked down for a few days and then somehow get up again.We learned to live with the crazy up’s and down’s and make it seem normal.

It was how we coped and we seemed to do it quite well. There was a lot of prayer and trusting God along the way. God showed up in our lives in powerful ways.

I suppose it was easier to carry on together.

And together is a thing of the past. He is not here but all of his things are. His glasses, razor, clothing, right shoes, walker.

On Monday I thought I would finally have a chance to clean my house. I am the type of person that a messy home translates into a messy brain, it causes me stress. I woke up in an ok mood, not overly sad. But the house had not been really cleaned since before Sonny died. So his things were everywhere. His jacket ( he was always cold), his wallet, his glasses. Photo;s everywhere.

There are these representations everywhere. I found his backpack hanging exactly where we had left it, in plan site, on one of the hallway hooks. I started crying as I reached into it, perhaps hoping to find a personal piece of something to grasp on to. It had papers, with his handwriting ( he had beautiful handwriting). In the pocket was a napkin with an apple core inside. I cried and cried.

We cleaned out his office. A life time of academic work gone in an instant. He told us he had some research that he wanted to give to a colleague. We have no idea who or where it is, so what will happen to it? it will just disappear with him. So sad except that I have received so many letters for students, former and present. He made an impact on them. He cared about them and it still matters.

So here I am, no longer together,  left to pick up the pieces of 31 years, I have my family here and they are doing everything in their power to hold me up, to keep it together but it is a near impossible task. I have added expectations for myself to that mix and that has made it harder, not easier.

It is difficult to let go of expectations. To learn to go to bed alone. To face every night knowing that there is no one else in the room with me and when I wake up I will still be alone. I want so badly to run away. I hate this feeling of emptiness and fog. This damn elephant still sits on my chest and it has not moved. So I am learning to have no expectations. I am learning to see what the day will bring. I am trying to learn to let go of control. That is the core and heart of the matter and the hardest thing to do.  I am trying to do life together with God, and my family yet also learning that I have to do it alone as well. The week is almost over, yesterday is gone. I have made it through 17 (only 17?!?) days without Sonny. I do not like it but I have to go on, to learn that expectations are stupid and let go of them. To try to figure out who I am now that Sonny is not here .  I got out of the bed every one of those days,  including today, so here’s to 17 days and counting