Wither goest thou?

It's never easy to readjust when things have changed. Especially when the situation has altered to the extent that my own has. I have lost my wife and she was my job as well, so I am now an unemployed widower. When it first happened, the kids and I sat around in the ward and we all felt the same, "what happens now, where do we go from here, what are we expected to do?". Each one of us was lost and bewildered. There was no purpose, no sense of direction in anything. There are still moments like that for me, but they are becoming fewer and further apart. While I was caring for Kaye, I felt the frustration of not being able to get out into the workshop or take the bike out, yet when I could have done it, I didn't want to. I wasn't interested in going for a ride just for the sake of riding, The thought of making something in the workshop was just to much bother.
Once the funeral was over, I made a list of things that needed to be done. See to the will, transfer the house from joint to my name, close the bank account and all those sorts of things. When they were done, I made another list. Early in the piece, I cleared out her clothes, I redid the kitchen cupboards to suit me, I organised the linen press along my lines. Once these jobs were done, I ticked them off the list and went on to the next one. There was no regret for the past, I was quite happy to have more than enough room for my clothes, I enjoy working in the kitchen now that I know what is in the cupboards and where it is, it's very nice to be able to look in the linen press and not be terrified of the unknown. But going out to dinner was very different, we both enjoyed good food and over the years we built up a short list of what we thought were good restaurants where we were treated as guests.

For us, dining out was almost a sacrement. There are certain requirements that must be met before a place met our standards. The ingredients must be of the best quality and fresh and they should be prepared in such a way as to bring out the details of what ever dish we ordered. It must be presented on the plate with artistic flair, arranged so as to catch the eye and invite eating. It should be served correctly, with the mainstay of the meal closest to the diner. People say that this doesnt matter, but to us it meant that the waiter knew how it should be done and did it. The wine list should be adequate for the type of meals served.

But there was one essential ingredient that we always took with us. The best sauce for any meal is good company and in each other, we had that. We prefered to dine out by ourselves, for by doing so we created an intimacy that could almost exclude everybody else in the restaurant. The interuptions of the waiter were negligable, peripheral, they came from another world which we dismissed. For us, such an event was an oblation to the goddess of our love.

Kaye's absence has not altered my enjoyment of good food, I still have the same tastes and wants as I did before it happened, I still expect the same standards. But the ghosts are there in plenty, how can it be otherwise? There was something close to sacremental about our dining and the memories are vivid, real and deeply personal. I could not have faced them on my own, they would have smothered me, drowned me in an ocean of mourning and regret for what had gone. By dining with me Micah has enabled me to face those ghosts, to see them as they really are. Not the fearsome spectres of danger, threatening to smother me, I am not fated to drown in them. No, now I can look at these ghosts and see them for what they really are. Bright shining jewels, stars in the sky of my rememberance and I can take each one and hold it up to the light to see the beauty within. I can return them to their velvet lined casket to be taken out another time and enjoyed again in quiet contemplation