Two whole years

Two years since my husband passed away.  On September 2 it will be 2 years.  I haven't written much on this blog, since most of it was created to keep people in touch with what was going on with Barry and then me.  So whats been going on with me?  Plenty.  I've been trying to keep myself busy.  Really, really busy.  Because when I'm busy I don't think about what I've been through.  When I stop and start to go over everything, I don't function very well.  Do I miss him?  Of course.  I will never, ever stop missing that crazy, adorable man.  But I have learned how to manage without him.  There are some things I will never be able to deal with myself, like how to fix the massage chair that he bought for me.  We finally figured out there was a blown fuse...but when we replace the fuse it immediately blows again.  Argh.  Its stuck in one position which annoys the beejeebers out of me, but....until someone comes over and starts monkeying with it, I won't be able to figure it out.  Anything mechanical baffles me and quickly makes me throw up my hands in surrender.  That was my husbands forte, not mine.  But as I was thinking the other day about what I miss the most about him, a number of things came to mind.....his smile, his daffy duck face he used to make when he felt sheepish about something, how he LOVED to get down on the floor with a puppy and just let the puppy jump all over him and lick his face; the way he used to try to cover up starting to get teary by making this little cough.....everyone who knew him knew that meant Barry had a lump in his throat and was getting ready to be teary.   But the thing that kept coming to the front of my mind was...his hands.  The feel of his hand in mine.  His rough hands with grease under his nails.  How they felt when he would put his arm around me, when he would touch my hand in the middle of the night.  We held hands most every night.  Either he or I would roll over in the middle of the night and reach for each others hand to hold.  It was just a nice thing to do and it reassured the both of us that we were there and that we loved each other.  How I miss that.  His hands were so rough from so many years of hard work.  A mechanics hands.  A do-ers hand.  I will forever miss that man in my life for a million little reasons....and for one big reason.  I loved him.  There is a Barry-sized hole in my heart that will never be filled, but I can survive.  I can function.  I stay busy.  I am amazingly grateful for what God has provided for me.  The blessings are still there and I make myself stop and say "thank you" to God every day for what He has done for me.  So I have learned these days to lean on another hand.  God's hand.  I may not be able to feel it physically, but I sure feel it emotionally.  He's there with me.  And really, ....so is Barry.