(no subject)
I just deleted Rob from my Outlook contacts. I couldn't bring myself to do it before.
It's a step.
He's still in my cellphone. He is on two of my speed-dials... his home and his cell. I still call the home one sometimes, to talk to his roommate, Sean. When Sean calls me, it comes up "Rob." That's spooky.
I had a dream last week that he sent me a text message. I thought "Oh my God, he's NOT dead!" And then my phone rang, and it was him, saying "HIIIIII" the way he always used to, a bounce in his voice just like he had in his step. (God, I miss that.) I roundly bitched him out for what he's done to everyone, and then told him how I never thought I'd hear that "HIIII" again... and then the dream faded ... and I woke up, and remembered it, and remembered that he really IS dead...
It still hasn't really sunk in ... I still have moments when I haven't thought about it for a bit and then I remember "Oh my God, Rob is DEAD!" And I am in shock and disbelief all over again.
His absence in my life is palpable. It's like a big huge hole in my universe, something torn out, tattered edges remaining, waving in the wind to remind me of what's gone. I cry every single day, usually when I'm driving alone in my car with the radio as loud as I can stand it.
I haven't posted his stories because I've been told not to by the former personal rep of his estate... but that person has, thankfully, stepped down from his position and I don't really see why the court would have any problem with my sharing his stories, many of which he'd already posted/made public anyway. Maybe this weekend I'll be able to put something up here.
In the meantime, spring has sprung, flowers are blooming, leaves are bursting, birds are singing, grass is greening, and life appears to be moving on without Rob... but his absence is felt deeply by me, and if all was really right in the world he'd be romping through that grass with Chelsea and enjoying the warm sunshine...
It's a step.
He's still in my cellphone. He is on two of my speed-dials... his home and his cell. I still call the home one sometimes, to talk to his roommate, Sean. When Sean calls me, it comes up "Rob." That's spooky.
I had a dream last week that he sent me a text message. I thought "Oh my God, he's NOT dead!" And then my phone rang, and it was him, saying "HIIIIII" the way he always used to, a bounce in his voice just like he had in his step. (God, I miss that.) I roundly bitched him out for what he's done to everyone, and then told him how I never thought I'd hear that "HIIII" again... and then the dream faded ... and I woke up, and remembered it, and remembered that he really IS dead...
It still hasn't really sunk in ... I still have moments when I haven't thought about it for a bit and then I remember "Oh my God, Rob is DEAD!" And I am in shock and disbelief all over again.
His absence in my life is palpable. It's like a big huge hole in my universe, something torn out, tattered edges remaining, waving in the wind to remind me of what's gone. I cry every single day, usually when I'm driving alone in my car with the radio as loud as I can stand it.
I haven't posted his stories because I've been told not to by the former personal rep of his estate... but that person has, thankfully, stepped down from his position and I don't really see why the court would have any problem with my sharing his stories, many of which he'd already posted/made public anyway. Maybe this weekend I'll be able to put something up here.
In the meantime, spring has sprung, flowers are blooming, leaves are bursting, birds are singing, grass is greening, and life appears to be moving on without Rob... but his absence is felt deeply by me, and if all was really right in the world he'd be romping through that grass with Chelsea and enjoying the warm sunshine...