I Had A Pang

My Waitflix movie finally came in. I picked it up and stopped by the pizza place and picked up my pizza. It was a cold, blustery day and as I reached for the car door handle, I had that flash of those many chilly Saturdays I'd go to town and pick up a movie and a pizza or whatever and then Gene and I would spend a companionable afternoon watching said movie. After one year, six months, and thirteen days you still don't know when your heart will tighten up and tears will sting your eyes. But those feelings don't come as often. And those pangs are different than remembering. And they almost always come when I am alone.

It's been long enough that remembering doesn't hurt. And it's quite nice, too. Not long ago, I sent a package to Barrie's little girl for her birthday. Barrie related to me that whenever she'd open up a package sent from my house she would smell Gene's cigar smoke on it. This time it wasn't there and she found that she "longed" for him, even more than just missing someone. I surprised myself by my reaction. I got a really, really big grin on my face. I was so pleased that someone else missed Gene besides me. I've had people concerned for me, but not too much conversation about Gene. I've been told that people are just afraid to mention him for fear it will make me sad. And it might have for the first few months, but now I just feel like I'm the only one (except Barrie, of course) that misses him.

(Update on May 6 about hearing from people on Gene's birthday that made me smile, too.)