Ron was never an overtly romantic kind of guy, not like I would have liked at times - but - every year it was him that remembered Valentines Day. He would ask the day before where I wanted to go for dinner the next night. "Huh?" I would think. "Why would we be going out for dinner?" Then he would continue that it was Valentines Day the next day and the light would dawn.
He always got home before me - he worked 7 to 3 and I worked 8:30 to 4:30 so every Valentines Day there would be a bouquet of roses sitting on the dining room table for me. I didn't always get him something (cause I often forgot), but occasionally I would get him a sappy little stuffed Valentines animal or something and stick in his lunch box when he wasn't looking and chuckle at the thought of him pulling it out in front of a room full of guys.
So I thought today would be very strange when I walked in the door after work. But I've joined a grief support group and we meet every Wednesday at 5:00. I can't say much about it because as with many of those kinds of groups, what is discussed amongst us stays amongst us. But I think I can say that everyone in the group has lost a loved one to cancer and that most of us are women who have lost their husbands. Tonight we were to talk about the death of who we lost. It was very sad but very cathartic since I don't talk much about Ron's death with people. Most people at work don't even know.
So emotionally drained, but feeling peaceful, on the way home I remembered that once I got home I would have to shovel the driveway. We didn't get much snow, but enough that it had to be done.
But when I pulled in the driveway, someone had ploughed out the driveway already. I thought that was so nice of whoever it was.
Today didn't turn out to be as bad as it could have.