Blue Balls

I spent the day outside in the yard and garden....for the first time since the April Showers of tears that followed Chris death. It felt a little bit like I was walking on egg shells, instead of weeds.Wondering if this familiar pleasurable activity would set me off. If I would miss Chris sitting up on the deck, watching me work and pretending to read. I get much of the driveway clean up done and even tend to the bamboo garden, it needs to watered deeply before the fall so it will last the winter. If I had saved all my tears that would have been more than enough for a deep root watering.
I am tired, but contented I feel a little less terrified/sad/grief stricken.
I sit down under the deck in the shade. I lean my head back against the house to est it. As I do I see the blue marine floater ball, hanging from the deck. I have a flash back.We are in Province town at the Marine speculator, Chris lifts a ball off of the hook high above my head, we admire it together, before purchasing it and 3 more. It is so rel I feel everything, smell everything just as if it was that humid day 3 years ago. He looks so good, so healthy, so Chris.

A car drives by and honks, it is Jackie and Mal, how appropriate. I wave and burst into tears, sobbing and hoping they don't see and turn around, for I know this is a Tsunami of wailing that is coming, wiping away any peace or contentment I have, destroying the solitude of the day like a cold wall of water, reminding me, he is not here, you are alone...Face it Face it!
I run into the house for fear that someone will see me, a soggy wife crying under the blue balls of remembrance.