Dinner for One

The young lady must be no older than 25, dark long hair. She is wearing a white collared shirt with black slacks. On her shirt is a bright gold name tag with “Shelley” etched across it. With a big bright smile that I’m sure she had to practice over and over she says, “Dinner for One?”

That’s the way it is now. Life for One. Now don’t get me wrong here, this is not a pity-pot post. I’m just expressing the reality of what I see and feel now that it’s 81 days later. I know it’s 81 days because we have a sign here at work. “Number of days since last accident” Seems that the day Carol died someone got hurt here at work. So every day I see the counter, “Number of days since Carol died”.

Sorry about that, back to dinner. Carol and I used to eat out a lot. Towards the end she was always tired and not feeling well. So we would go out. Now that I’m alone, I go out. Not a lot but at lest once or twice a week. It’s an odd feeling sitting alone and eating dinner. Not in a morbid way but in a very slight sad way. I need to eat and the food is ok to good. I look around and watch the other people sitting together and talking. I think about the times Carol and I would sit and talk.

I have started to dream about Carol again. Almost every night now. She is always sick and weak in my dreams. They seem to always center on me taking care of her. It doesn’t bother me anymore. Someone said that maybe soon I’ll have a dream about her being healthy. I’d like that.

I did ok at work last week and again this week so far. Seems I’m smart again. The people here at work have been wonderful and patient. I have been able to slip right back into my function and work as if I had never been gone. The stuff in my head opens up and I can figure things out again. I like that.