Jul 9 3:28pm – Nick and I will pick up Regina tomorrow (Tues) at 11am from Mullins. She is ready to come home now. I will be glad to have her home. She has had so many adventures in the past few months – I’m guessing she is ready for a rest. I am. I have a place all ready for her – out with me for awhile or as long as we need that. The death certificates are still being worked by DC – who knew how hard this would be? I can’t do much business to finalize things until I get the certificates. I am wondering what has been determined by the medical examiners to be cause of death? Certificates may still be a few days away. But at least Regina will be home in a few hours. I picked up the new heart beat strip from the picture framing man today. It tells such a compelling story. Out of 56 years, Regina had a good, strong, healthy physical heart for one week. Just one week. And she was asleep and couldn’t enjoy it. I suppose there is some meaning that we can make out of all this – I’m just too tired to figure it out right now. I took the framed strip to show Nick at BB after I had picked it up. We shared a few words and silently wept on the BB showroom floor together. Us like little islands in an otherwise busy ocean that keeps on moving all around. Two guys looking at a representative picture of a special person. And so it goes… I reached out to GriefShare today. They kindly got back to me very promptly. Unfortunately, the local share group is on summer break. Again, I suppose we can come up with some irony here but I can’t right now. On break for the summer. Perhaps it is about all of us – at different times – needing a break from grief. I can understand that. I will keep looking – I’m advised to find a share group that can walk the same and common path as I am. I would like to walk with other partners in this for awhile until I can get my footing. Went to Giant today to pick up a few things. Like a little weather bluster, so many of you reached out at almost the same time both at the store and via short message. I commented to some of you, “Isn’t shopping an amazingly social thing?” Well, is it? Deep down, I am so thankful for so many of you who take a few minutes just to check up on me, say hello, make a comment. I don’t have much to say but I am happy to hear from you in spite of how I carry on about socializing. Your short messages and waves smooth out the otherwise pretty rough current that I am riding right now. I told Nick today that the grief just hurts! It surges like a wave, then drops back. When I least expect it, it hits like a hammer. Like a punch in the stomach that makes me have to take a moment and equalize normalize stabilize. I was looking under a list of address list print-outs today and found a weekly menu list hand-written and scratched out on a single square of sticky yellow notepad that Regina had prepared for the week that, instead, turned out to be the week of her transplant. It listed a meal and the veggie for each day. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc. We were going to be having some “chicken and dumplins w/veggies”, “coke pot roast”, and some “fish fillets”. Also, some “salad”, “aspargus”, and some “froz. vegs”. When I found this list, I was breathless and had to sit down. I added the little square to the many others that I have collected that I have found located somewhere around the house in the past few weeks. As much as I somewhat dread finding these little squares, I also dread the day when I will likely have found them all – and that will be that. No more notes from Regina. Each day brings me closer to the end of her notes – and that makes me sad, too. Grief is just a relentless and vicious circle. Sometimes easing and sometimes punching the air out of me. I will say again, though, that each bout of grief spasm brings just ever such a tiny tiny hint of healing. Hugely small – but it is there. The open wound is slowly ever so slowly turning into a scar. It will be months and years, but it is healing. I think.