The New Normal - We Became Me

Two weeks. Two excruciating, tear filled, memory laden weeks. Saying goodbye to “we” and accepting the reality of “me”. The new normal certainly isn’t normal - yet!

I haven’t mastered the art of holding it together on a phone call. Be it a call letting creditors know George is gone, or a friend checking in to make sure I’m alright, at some point in every conversation emotions rise to the surface, my voice cracks and the words stop flowing. It has made for some interesting reactions on the business end of these calls! Young customer service representatives in the awkward position of having to find the right words for what they thought was a routine call. In typical Paula fashion I find the need to apologize for my emotions and make them less uncomfortable.

Lately the void my Kahuna left has been filled with the unavoidable tasks of moving forward with the business of living – and dying. The unexpected timing of his departure left certain things undone. Things George wanted to have wrapped up in the short time he knew he had left. I’m channeling my inner Kahuna every day as I sit at his desk and ask myself, “What would George do?” The answer is always simple. Make the call. Find a solution. Get it done! I think he’s proud of me when I’m in the zone and checking off the to-do list as I continue to wrap up his practice and take ownership of the business of our life. Chalk one up for the Lovely Paula Marie!

Now for the emotional gut-punch! The kids, grandkids and I depart for Maui in a couple of days on the trip that George was so determined to make. He wanted to watch his grandkids play in his paradise. To witness their excitement at seeing their first whale, dolphin or sea turtle.

I spy a sea turtle!

He wanted to play golf with Son and Son-in-law. Enjoy one last farewell visit to our home away from home, surrounded by his children and their children. I know we made the right decision to make the trip without him, and Son, Daughter and I are bracing for the tsunami of emotions the week will bring.

I am planning on sticking to our regular routine/rituals. The long morning walk. Lazily floating among the gentle waves at the “our” beach. Sunsets enjoyed from the sand as the soothing sound of waves lap the shore. A sunset sail. A trip to our favorite bar to say hello to the friends we’ve made over the years.

Hula Grill Bar- where everyone knows our name.

Last October. The Old Normal

I knoGeorge will be with me. With us. And I expect the tears will be a little saltier and a lot more frequent at our little piece of heaven without my best friend. The new normal.

Every day for the past two weeks has been a contradiction – a parallel existence of sorts. On one hand is the sameness of life after the Kahuna. Same house, same routine tasks, and same wonderful family and friends we hold so dear. Charlie still awaits his morning walk, and the same bills await payment on schedule. Life goes on, yet I cannot escape the almost unbearable emptiness of George's absence. His empty chair. His coffee mug. The closet full of suits, ties and monogrammed dress shirts juxtaposed to the Tommy Bahama wardrobe in any variety of prints and colors that I won’t be packing for Maui. I’m not ready to erase my man from my life, so the new normal will have to allow space for his “stuff” – at least for now.

Friends have shared beautiful poems, thoughtful quotes, and their personal experiences with grief – the kind of things I have offered others when I thought I understood. Reading them now, I feel the words so much more deeply. It got personal two weeks ago. Grief has a grip on me and I realize the new normal won’t erase it from my life. Instead I feel each day, each tear, each George-less experience will somehow wrap itself around my grieving heart. An ace bandage to insulate the sadness and help me cope with whatever the new normal brings.

Sunset smooches

Goodnight my sweet Kahuna.