Stage 4: Undoing the Compromises

Day 52: Bourbon Buck: Bourbon, Lime Juice, Ginger Beer, Bitters

So I've returned. I've dove into the fray of funeral planning, relatives, in-laws, speech writing and a general sense of overwhelmedness, and come out the other side. The business of planning a funeral has certainly has given me a lot to write about, but I'm not quite ready to write about it yet.

I'm probably having a few revelations which are likely obvious to many, but along with the death of a spouse, I'm dealing with the first breakup of my adult life. In addition to all of the heartbreak and grief, there are number of practical concerns that have arisen in the last couple months. A lot of these are, perhaps, mundane to some, but they've been fascinating to me.

Any relationship, especially one involving co-habitation, comes down to a series of compromises. Ideally, this is minimal. Hopefully, it's more which side of the bed to sleep on and less conversion to Scientology. To be honest, Dahlia and I had very few disagreements in our relationship. No one converted their religion or moved to a city that they didn't want to, so in the long run, we made things easy on each other. Compromises can be far more subtle, far more subconscious: from what TV show to watch to who gets to use the car any given day.

Compromises can be as small as where to put the compost bin. There are things I had no idea I cared about have now become front and center because their main use has become... I suppose irrelevant is the right word. I have a room, that was up until two weeks ago, was filled with quilting supplies. With my fine motor control being what is, dealing with a bunch of small strips of fabric and sharp objects is pretty much out of the question. I had Dahlia's friends take everything they could use and eventually I'll throw out or donate the rest, but even before that, I've got a lot of empty space to use. All the clothes, junk food, fabrics and nick-knacks that were once important parts of Dahlia's life are just things taking up space. All of the removal has made for a pretty empty house. Filling it all will take time.

Beyond the empty space and the quiet house, there's how the days are filled. I'll play a video game instead of watch a movie. When I do watch something, it's more likely to be comedy than period dramas now. I'll order Indian instead of Thai. Each of these things will remind me of the absence in my life, but I do them anyway because it would be silly to do the opposite. Frankly, the opposite would just remind me more, and be just silly. To do something because of a dead woman is ridiculous and Dahlia would be the first to say it.

Of all the things about learning to be single, doing the shit you wanted to do in the first place should be the easiest one. Perhaps it is, but it doesn't make it easy.