Quandary and memories

This post will be all over the place, just as I am all over the place.

I'm vacillating about going ahead with the carpet and painting. While our carpet is hardly that bad, and nor is the paintwork, it looks very dated. I dunno. It was a hard decision to make when Ray and I decided to go ahead. I'd gee him up with practical details about how it would all work. Of course you can do it hon. You're not even on a walker yet. For his age, he was relatively fit.

Aside from my sobbing and crying with Jo one night. I don't think I'm grieving in the way society expects. I carry on with my life as it was but without Ray. At times my voice cracks or my eyes well, but that is usually when I speaking to someone. 

I had some good Aussie tucker tonight for dinner, Katrina's Kitchen's sweet and sour chicken. I wondered if there was rice in the meal, and there was plenty. It was so bland, but quite edible. I need to use up the frozen meat in the fridge, so I will cook some more over time. 

I posted locks of Ray's fabulous hair to his sisters in England yesterday. I have a lock for myself. Hairdresser Friend has a lock, and there are two more, one for Sister and one for Ex Sis in Law. 

Last night I caught a DiDi to the Elsternwick Hotel for dinner with our Brighton Antique Dealer friend, her toyboy and our Hair Dresser Friend. It was a nice evening, though it was hard to tell BAD about the night when Ray died. While the hotel is on a convenient tram route from here, there is track replacement happening, so a tram, bus, tram to get there. I wanted to be there on time and as a first time user, I had a $15 credit. The DiDi trip was fine. I last heard DiDi has nearly 30% of the market here, with Uber having the rest. Uber failed me once and even last night I tried to book an Uber as a backup for DiDi, and then cancel it, but its app was so terribly slow...non functional really. I caught the tram/bus/tram home and it worked well. Easiest would have to take the car, but then why go to a pub if you can't have a drink. Ray used to drive at night. 

Today I visited Kerferd Road Pier to see some art works along the pier. I bought a cup of coffee and I ate my supermarket bought sandwich, sitting on the seat where we both used to sit, looking over the water. There are so many things Ray would never have done on his own, I dragged him to them. 'Hon, new pier at Altona Beach'. 'Art work on the Kerferd Road pier'. 'Best bahn mi in Smith Street, Collingwood'. 'New art exhibition at the City Gallery'. He would readily agree but none were things he would have ever thought of doing alone. I think he liked that I extended his horizons. I think he liked that I encouraged him to self education when he was younger. I think he liked that I would tell him about a book and tell him he must read it, and he would.

He was not an intellectual person, and neither am I really, but he did have a curiosity about higher culture that I liked. He was a people person. While I thought I remember you saying this two minutes ago and why are you repeating now and you are saying twice again, he would just keep chatting on in a warm and friendly manner. I never got a look in but that's because I'm not chatty like he was. 

He could get it wrong though. He said something nasty to a young Asian woman as she left our lift and had breached some kind of lift etiquette. Later he said to me, I shouldn't have said that should I. No hon, old white men should not try to exercise power over young Asian women. 

Ray certainly wasn't a saint. He could have terrible mood swings. It got to the stage where I could read when one was coming in his face. I knew to not say very much but basic replies. He could find offence from someone that I could not. Bar my two brothers, he found fault with every older family members, and some younger too. 

He could certainly find a lot of faults in me and did not hold back on telling me about them.

Nevertheless, we had passionate sex when we were younger. Over 44 years we loved, we argued, we fought, we agreed, we laughed, we enjoyed, we travelled, we faced deaths of family and friends, we supported each other through thick and thin.

It must be about six years ago when R had to go to hospital for a possible stent heart surgery. It was decided he did not need such surgery. As he left to catch a tram to the hospital, I burst into tears. He gave me a reassuring hug and later that day I picked him up in the car from the hospital. I thought he might die.

In the last few years, he became very anxious about everything, at times overwhelming logic. I don't think I've ever been late anywhere, but at times it might have been a close call. He would always want to be so early to get to an airport or to attend any kind of appointment. He could find anxiety where there was none. He readily expressed about his anxiety levels and apologised for them. "Sorry, I'm just being anxious". 

The average age of male death in Australia is now about 83. I really feel robbed that the very functioning Ray was taken from me at the age of 75. All the things we planned to do are mist.

I cannot imagine the person I would have been without Ray. 

Writing is my therapy. My eyes are wet and my nose snotty after writing this. I'm not going to check for typos. Raw writing it is. Oh, how I miss him.