What Will I Do?

Today is one of those days where things have caught up with me and I just want a few minutes to cry. Yesterday Layne helped to get a large oatmeal container open. It was being opened for the first time and I just wasn't getting it open. I was glad he was around and helped. I asked him what I was going to do when he was gone and then we hugged and moved on with our day. Later in the day I thought the same thing while we were kissing. And, I had the thought this morning too when I smelled some of his clothes. I had smelled one of my own shirts to determine if I needed to toss it in the laundry or not. Then, the thought came to me about others smelling the clothes of a lost loved one or holding a sentimental item. That's how I ended up on Layne's side of the closet smelling his clothes. I didn't expect that I would start to cry. I can't imagine his half of the closet empty...or getting rid of his things. Maybe I'll have something that I keep - just to remember.
This morning I realized I would miss joking around with him and that I would miss his laugh. I will miss the snuggling, the intimacy, and someone to keep me warm at night. I will miss his help with the kids, our family, the income, the home, and the yard. I will miss being part of a couple. I'm not sure what it feels like to be identified as an individual anymore. (No, I don't mean in a 'I'm not whole without him' or 'I don't know who I am' kind of way - it's more of a 'just what I've gotten used to' kind of thing. I don't really remember how to be single and certainly don't know what it's like to be a widow at this point.)
On the other side of the coin, maybe some of my emotions are coming from being the 'not quite as organized as I'd like be' kind of person that makes me panic and just a bit stressed as Christmas approaches and I'm not ready. I'm sure there's more than just thinking about losing my husband that's making me a bit weepy. Although, at the same time - that reason could stand on its own.
Time to go do something happy - or at least something productive. Or, maybe I'll start small and cry before moving on with my day. Because I don't want to leave on a sad note - maybe I could start with appreciating the beautiful day outside. It snowed all day yesterday - so, today we're starting with a layer of beautiful snow, a clear blue sky, and sunshine. I love the chance for a fresh start after a gloomy day.

New Normal

At our last appointment, Layne asked again about anything else he could be doing. He's grateful for the results. He's also a logical, scientific mind, meet a goal kind of a guy. He's wanting a definite time frame for being back to working full time, not feeling exhausted, running again, and getting back to what he's been used to doing. He feels like he just got settled with things at work and then cancer happened. We both laughed when he compared having cancer with working on a doctorate degree. Life seems to drag on with no light at the end of the tunnel.

Success Story

We spoke with the oncologist yesterday. After hearing that there was no more growth of the tumors, we spoke with the guy who manages the clinical trial. He asked Layne if he'd be alright with being a 'success story' for a report he was doing. We joked a little about it. We were told that Layne was the only one still doing the trial they had started months ago. It would be told as an anonymous case study and just have the clinical details given. It was nice to be able to have a light conversation about a clinical trial. I also like that those who are there, do their best to keep the conversations positive - even though they might be sharing not so great news. I'm not sure I'd go so far as 'upbeat' because they also do well with being compassionate when needed. I like that they are genuine. We are very grateful to be moving forward. The oncologist extended the time frame for another appointment with him. That was a nice feeling. It was as if everything was OK for a few minutes.