" You cannot swim for new horizons until
you have courage enough to lose sight of the shore."
William Faulkner
Dear Lloyd,
While I talk to you daily, it has been quite awhile since I have written you. Do you remember how you would tease me when I would try something and end up having to ask for help? You always sensed how difficult it was for me, asking for assistance, leaving myself vulnerable. You knew why, but still I cannot explain it to others. Despite the years, the sore has never quite scabbed completely over.
Today I, as you always said in these situations, "Caught my tit in the wringer." I bought new living room furniture; however, I assume due to bed bug issues (shiver and knock on wood), they no longer will take your old furniture when they deliver your new. I expected to have some time prior to delivery, but they are bringing it Wednesday. Heavy though it was, I started to take it outside to deal with later.
Of course, the recliner caught in the doorway and would not budge forward or backward. The place where I "thought" I had left a spare key no longer held a spare key, and the other doors were locked. I managed to climb over the chair, but could not budge it from that direction either. Then, a spark, fired by necessity, as I heard you say, "Don't panic. Think about this." I could feel your smile and almost hear your laughter, something I starve for. I do miss you so, love, but I have just accepted that is the way it will always be. I have good times now. I laugh and enjoy life. But I do miss you and wish you were here to share with me.
Tom, of course, thought this was an ideal situation to try to escape to the great outdoors, something that has really never been a problem. But I corralled him and kept him in. Lucy, the one I suspected would make a mad dash, was as good as gold. Yes, naming him for Tom Sawyer was a wise move.
I took a good look at the situation and remembered one time you had to take the legs off a piece of furniture. Down to the basement to view your tools and try to figure out which was appropriate. Twenty screws later, the bottom was off, the chair was freed, and I knew how to tackle the love seat. I will leave the couch until tomorrow so I have a place to sit tonight.
Miss you, love. Melissa
