I took The Daddler to the senior center for lunch today. I stayed and ate, too. I headed down to the guitar session after lunch - I was impressed with all the talented people. The leader was very sweet. He gave me his guitar to practice with. Turns out it's a slim neck guitar and that made it much easier for my short fingers to reach the strings. While I was in Florida visiting Dude, he told me to try one of his with a narrower neck, but for some reason, I never did.
Even though I'm too young to join the senior center (only by five years), I think I could crash the guitar lessons. There were at least 10 people. Only one other woman. They all seemed happy to see me and sad to see me go. Maybe I could find a sugar daddy in there. Could I qualify for spousal coverage under medicare? I'm running out of time. And I'm not expecting Mr. Man to accept my repeated proposals of marriage before my COBRA expires.
Back to the title of this post. It's been almost eight months since Mother died. The D wanted to stop by the cemetery on the way home. So we did. He brushed the twigs and grass off her headstone. My brother's, too. It's a beautiful thing to see. After he did that, he just stood there a few minutes and then was ready to leave. My heart breaks every time we go there. I look at the blank spot where he'll go, and I just can't fathom that. The thought of losing him is unbearable. How long before I recover from my mother's death?
I suppose it'll be like it was with her. I'll just do what I have to do. I was surprised by how strong I was. And I keep getting stronger.
My heart is heavy now, but I'm going to follow the good advice of my good friend. Live in the moment. I'll get back on my client work and that'll take my mind off it. Later I'll run and swing. Such good therapy. Even though it'll be in the upper 90s, I'll be fine. I'm a lizard, remember.
On that note, I'll sign off. Over and out...

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