So he is gone. I can say those words, roll them in my mouth, and loose them off my tongue without the stabbing through the center of my chest. He is gone.
I did a few things yesterday to remember him and to form new habits. I found a gun instructor. Otto was my range master. He took care of my guns, loaded them, and played spotter when I shot. I was a better shooter with him around. So I want to continue shooting.
Since we married twenty-two years ago, Otto and I used to go out to eat. For me that was just too much. I am still finding it hard to go out to eat as a single person. Before I met him, I used to go to restaurants by myself and watch the folks around me. I am an outsider in many respects. Plus people watching helps with my writing. Now, I am too self-conscious. I get nervous, watching people watch me.
So I ate at home, lit a candle to his picture, and talked to him like I used to do as we sat together in the restaurant. This might not become a thing. It was comforting this time around.
I have said before that the internet is a boon to introvert outsiders like myself. It is really hard to meet new people or to go to new places. To even find the shooting instructor, I had to stir up my courage for half a day before I drove to her place of business. She wasn’t there. I then had to stir up my courage for an hour, just to dial her number. I miss Otto. He was my courage.
My late-hubby told his co-worker that I was a warrior babe. That I had the courage of ten men. Well, I don’t. I just have the stubbornness. When I decide to do something, neither the nausea caused by nerves, or my introversion will stop me. I power through it. Sometimes it even becomes a great experience. Sometimes, not.
Yesterday, I survived my first anniversary alone.