The next stage....

I have not done well with losing Shelia.  I miss her desperately, and have been doing so for a very long time.

I think that those around her were so much stronger, so much better that I could have ever been.  Her family was amazing and I am grateful that she was surrounded by them when she died.  

Truth be told, if I go back and look at history, I realize that she was very ill on the trip across the country.  While hard, going to the UK, was probably the very best thing for the both of us as it enabled her to reconnect with old friends, family and the ones that were ultimately there to take care of her.  

I've never known anyone that died a lingering death.  As such, I never accepted the fact that she was dying.  I truly believed that if she just got up, she would get better.  It was not until the services yesterday that I finally started to admit that she was ill and that in the end, there was nothing I would have been able to do.  God works in amazing ways that way. 

But, I still find myself holding my breath waiting for something to happen.  I'm going to go and talk with my pastor today to start the road to healing.  I now know it is time.  Now, I have to learn to move on and learn to be on my own again.

For those that follow this blog, pray for me.  I know that may sound selfish, but I want to know what it is like to breathe again.  Right now, I feel like I never will. 

Shiny Side Up

-RoadRunner

Sweet Dreams Jose....

Yesterday I lost a mother, a friend, a confidant and a very large part of me.  After a short but vicious illness, my friend Jose left this world surrounded by family and long time friends.  For those that have followed this blog, I wish I could say more.  Truth be told, I could never wrap my head around her illness.  I wanted to believe that if she could just get up, that she would get better.

I would insist on her trying harder and pushing through.  Not until she was bedridden, unable to talk, move or much of anything else, did I accept the fact that she was ill.  Even then, while I said that she was dying, I never really accepted it.  When I heard of her passing yesterday I was numb.  To be fair, I'm pretty sure that I still am.

I find it appropriate that she left this world on Cinco De Mayo...  She loved her margaritas and the small group of women that would meet about once a month to socialize, laugh and personally give me strength (the Posse) met to drink to her passing, laugh about our lives and start that long, painful process of building a life without our Jose.

For me, it means moving on with the knowledge that I will never see her behind me when I ride.  I will never visit the stores, eat at the restaurants, or see the silly way her cheeks would turn red when she had a drink.  I will miss my frustration that she would choose Dr. Pepper over water (even in the Mojave Desert!) and the way that we would "talk" with simply hand signals when we rode.
 
My salvation is that now, she will be with me whenever I start up Baby.  I hope and pray that she will be there urging me on saying "okay - I can ride now, get up and  go". 

I will miss you Jose, I will miss you Mrs. Shelia Douglas.  I will love you always.  I hope that now you are riding, fully geared, with the road ahead of you and the wind at your back.

- Road Runner