morrowlife

Here are Sandy, Shannon, Andy, Mark and me getting ready to go on the duck boat tour in downtown Philadelphia. It was absolutely the worst tour I’ve ever been on. The cool thing about the duck boats is that they’re amphibious. Unfortunately, the boat ramp near the tour was under construction at the time, so they had to take us to another boat ramp. That was a bit far away, so we took the freeway. Note to the reader: never ride in an open duck boat on the freeway. It was loud, windy, uncomfortable, and horrible. Great Art courtesy of Scott’s old Kodak camera, taken by Scott during their May 2005 trip to our house in Doylestown just before we moved to Northern California, and part of my famous Shannon and Machinery series.

Had a pretty good day today, although it started out fairly strangely. I was scheduled to go to one of the local Cabo resorts, where I would have access to their private beach area and swimming pool. The excursion also included a Mexican lunch buffet and one drink. We were supposed to meet in the theater, where we would be escorted to the dock and into the loving care of the tour operators. Five people showed up in the theater, only to discover nobody waiting there for us. We finally got in touch with the lady at the Excursion desk and she discovered that the date printed on all our tickets was yesterday. We all responded vociferously that we were absolutely positive we had booked the excursion for today. The woman pretty snottily told us that was impossible and we were all mistaken. However, they agreed to honor our tickets and we went ashore. The tour operators were great and took excellent care of us, so the day turned out well. Plus, I made four new friends who were very nice, so that made the day that much better. One of the ladies is a former Carnival employee who worked for years with several of the people aboard our ship, including the captain. She has promised to raise a little bit of hell over this issue.

Oh, by the way, after the excursion, I checked my receipt, and I was right – the excursion was booked for today. It’ll be interesting to see if my new friend really has any pull with the cruise line. I wouldn’t mind if they refunded my money. I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t, though. In spite of the very unpleasant start, the excursion was everything I had hoped for.

Tomorrow’s horseback riding excursion has been canceled, sadly. Apparently, there wasn’t enough interest. I was really looking forward to that one. A couple of my dinner table companions are going to another beach resort in Puerto Vallarta and they convinced me to go with them. This one is apparently a bit of a boat ride away from the dock, on a little island somewhere with an excellent buffet, kayaking, snorkeling, lying on the beach, and various other things. Details tomorrow.

Nothing else new. I’m enjoying this cruise and getting to know a few people. That’s just what I had hoped for. As is usual on cruises, I haven’t felt hungry since the day I got here. I’m not bothering to do anything about that until I get home, after which time I will start eating a bit better.

I walked the promenade deck after dinner again tonight for half an hour or so. I really need that time to reflect on my circumstances, think of Shannon, mourn some more, remember what it’s like to feel in love, feel the pain of separation again, and renew my resolve to live happily. It’s hard, but necessary right now. Soon, I’ll be able to be alone with my thoughts without it hurting so badly, but I never want to forget and I never want to fall out of love with Shannon. That means the pain will never go away, but I have confidence it will become manageable. Sandy wrote a comment on yesterday’s post telling me she wishes she could take away the pain. Thank you, Sandy. I’m truly grateful. I wish it were possible too, but it’s not. In fact, as the time since Shannon’s death passes and the last time I saw her and spoke with her grows farther into the past, the longing has gotten stronger and the pain has gotten deeper. I’m sure this is normal. At the same time, though, I feel like my ability to endure this pain has also grown.

Before Shannon got sick, I spent many, many years comfortably allowing her to care for practically my every need. After her illness began, though, I had to start taking over a few responsibilities around the house and in her medical care, even though she continued to serve me wherever and whenever the opportunity arose. These new responsibilities helped me learn some skills that were sorely lacking and gave me a small opportunity to pay back a tiny portion of the loving care she had given me for so long. I counted it as a privilege and it was also a great learning experience. I think I became a stronger, better, and more loving person as a result. I’m trying to look at the pain of separation as another learning experience and I’m sure the effect on me will be similar. I think I will be stronger, more self-reliant, and more capable of giving and expressing love than I was before. I wish there were another way to learn these lessons, but I’ll have to take what I’ve been given. In a very real way, Shannon is still serving me.

Enough for tonight. I’ll leave my Loyal Readers with this shocking food violence news: Jello theft!

See you tomorrow.

Here’s Shannon dancing with a statue of some revolutionary American guy. She was so fun. Great Art courtesy of Scott’s old Kodak digital camera, taken by Scott during our Independence Hall tour right before we moved away from Pennsylvania the first time, and part of my famous Shannon and Statue series.

Greetings from Cabo San Lucas! I had a nice day today.

But let’s start the story from the beginning. I left home in my beloved pickup at about 8:30 Saturday morning. It was supposed to be a terrible rainy day in Los Angeles and points east, but I got about 10 drops of water on my windshield the whole way. Traffic moved quickly and the truck ran perfectly. The lines to check in at the Long Beach terminal were long, but they moved at a reasonable pace and I got on board the ship in due time.

While I was in the terminal building (the old Spruce Goose dome, incidentally), the thunderstorm finally let loose and really raged for a little while. I heard later that it got pretty hard to get around for a while there.

Anyway. My balcony cabin was already ready for me. It’s really nice and feels possibly a bit bigger than the inside cabins Shannon and I have had on all our previous cruises. Other than Disney, that is. We had Mark and Andy with us on that cruise and the cabin was plenty big for all four of us.

Anyway. I walked around the ship a while, avoiding the residual light rain. It’s a pretty standard cruise ship – not as big as others we’ve been on but still big enough. I think it carries about 2200 passengers and 900 crew. So it didn’t take too long to explore. I spent some time hanging around on my balcony, which I enjoyed very much and continue to enjoy. I’m not sure Shannon would have liked it as much as I do. She hated to feel cold and her threshold for coldness was a bit lower than mine, so she wouldn’t have wanted to be out there while we were at sea. So I wouldn’t have been there because I didn’t want to be by myself. So the balcony is a great idea for me now but might not have been so great before. I do like having the sun wake me up in the morning, though, even if I’m not outside.

All of Saturday was pretty cloudy with slightly rough seas. Nothing like what we’ve seen on a couple other cruises, but you could definitely feel the ship rolling. I was walking outside on the promenade deck Saturday night and saw my first stars, so it didn’t take us an extremely long time to get out of the rainy weather. By Sunday morning, it was beautiful out.

We spent Sunday at sea. I enjoyed the day but didn’t really do all that much. I chatted with people over meals (I had their sea day brunch early and then again at lunchtime) and enjoyed the company. Otherwise, it was pretty much just me. I wandered a little and ended up spending a lot of the day on my balcony and otherwise relaxing. I enjoyed the alone time. There was a short period of intense loneliness and missing how the trip would have been with Shannon. Sunday was the one-month anniversary of her death and I needed to grieve some more. See yesterday’s blog post.

I have a nice group of people at the dinner table. They’re all single and they all seem nice. I like them, but I’m also intensely aware when I’m with them that I’m now part of the misfit group. I’m no longer part of a couple as far as things like that are concerned, and I don’t like that feeling. But such is my new life. I will learn to adapt and I will find friends who are nice, normal people. But probably not on this cruise. Although I really do like the people I eat dinner with. Sorry to say negative things about them. But adult singles aren’t the same as couples. They just aren’t.

This morning, we arrived in Cabo. I sat on the balcony as the ship approached and anchored. The view was pretty. After a while, I got on a tender and went ashore for my scuba diving excursion. It was fun! It was also exhausting. I’m so sore this evening I feel like I can hardly move. So we were underwater just long enough, I guess. There were three of us assigned to follow a guy named Sharif – a couple and me. The guy got in the water and really struggled for a while. I guess he just couldn’t get used to the scuba equipment. After about five minutes, he surfaced and went back to the ship. His wife and I finished up the trip. There were a lot of very interesting ships, some rocks and coral, a very large eel holed up in a rock crevice, and lots and lots of sand. It was beautiful and unique and I’m really glad I did it. I was able to breathe comfortably and get around well. All in all, it was a fun trip. I’m not sure I’m interested in taking up scuba diving, though. If I could do it in Cabo all the time, I might like it. I’m not sure that other places would be as beautiful. Also, I don’t want to be this sore that often.

Spent the afternoon in my cabin and on the balcony. I watched the sun go down and the lights come up on shore. It was beautiful. The day was warm, the water was extremely comfortable in a wetsuit, and the sunset was peaceful and cathartic.

I feel almost guilty enjoying myself so soon after Shannon’s death. I know that’s what she would want me to do, though, so I’m trying. There’s plenty of mourning going on too. After dinner tonight, I walked on the promenade deck like we used to do on our cruises and just talked to her as if she was here. It was heartbreaking because she can’t talk back to me, but it also gave me a chance to vocalize so many of the things I’ve been thinking. Being widowed is hard. It is just hard. I hope I have the strength to get through it without cracking. I don’t think I have much choice, do I?

Tomorrow, we’re back in Cabo. I’m going to the beach. Must remember the sunscreen – there are a lot of red people on the ship today and I don’t want to be one of them tomorrow. I hope to be a little less sore tomorrow night than I am tonight. Wish me luck, Loyal Readers!

And I’ll end with this exciting Morrowlife Employment Agency job opportunity: drug store-invading duck!

See you tomorrow.

Just a note on this Sunday evening.

It’s been four weeks since Shannon died. It’s starting to feel like forever, and yet I can still feel how I felt when we were together. I still imagine that she’ll be home at any minute. I still remember how she felt, how she sounded, how much we loved each other. I just can’t believe she’s gone. I miss her so, so much. I don’t know how to go on without her. I am completely, utterly brokenhearted.

There are nice people all over this cruise ship. Several of them have chatted with me and been nice to me. But I still feel completely alone. And I feel like I’m doomed to being alone for the rest of my life.

But I wanted this post to be about Shannon. She was the kindest, most loving wife and mother, the most beautiful woman, the sweetest companion, and the most hard-working person I have ever known. She dedicated her entire life to loving me, and she never wavered and she never gave up on me, no matter how difficult I was. She taught our children everything they know and made them the wonderful, happy people they are today. Her influence made people better and happier everywhere we lived. She made me better and happier every day and in every way for more than 35 years. She taught me everything. She taught me how to love. The only thing she didn’t teach me was how to live without her. That’s something I have to learn for myself.

No happy ending today. Shannon, I love you. I miss you. I need you. Farewell, my darling wife, my wonderful companion, my beautiful partner. Farewell.