Thank you for your feedback. Now what?

First, I would like to thank the many friends and family members who offered encouraging feedback about my return to the blogging world. Blogging has always been a place where I felt comfortable, and I look forward to sharing some interesting thoughts and experiences.

It has now been two years since Pam left us. Living alone after spending so many years together is hard. I miss the little things most—a hug as we passed in the hallway, a comment over dinner, discussing whatever was on TV, or chatting about our grandsons. More than anything, I miss the companionship.

I know that others in my situation have found a companion—not a replacement, but someone to share dinners with, attend events, or simply spend time together. I have no such desire right now. I realize that could change someday, but at this point I just have no interest. Not long ago, a friend asked me if I still considered myself married. Without hesitation, I answered yes.

I still wrestle with trying to understand what a "normal life" looks like without her. We spent countless hours traveling in our motor home, but that has been sold. I occasionally find myself looking at smaller motor homes, but I know it wouldn't be the same. We also spent many weekends taking my Red Hemi to car shows throughout Maine and New Hampshire. That, too, has been sold. Sometimes it even feels as though friendships we had for years have quietly faded away.

These days, I spend most of my time around the condo, tending to my flowers or working on woodworking projects in the garage. I'll save talking about those projects for another day, since one of them is a gift for my grandson, who graduated from high school this year.

I sometimes wonder how much social interaction is considered normal. I do go out occasionally to hear a musical act, but I've never been someone who enjoys going to clubs or out to dinner on a regular basis. The condo Activities Committee hosts events at the clubhouse throughout the year, yet I've skipped every one of them for months.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm simply adjusting to a quieter life. Other times, I worry that I'm becoming a recluse. I don't know what the right answer is. Perhaps there isn't one. Maybe this is just another part of learning how to move forward while still carrying the memories of a life that meant so much.