Tonight, my friend Sarah came over to spend time with me. She brought me an amazing Mexican dinner (my favorite) and a bunch of groceries! It's amazing the relief I felt knowing I didn't have to go to the grocery store for a while yet.
She even bought me toilet paper and new toys for the cats. What a friend.
Here I sit, mentally preparing for yet another day tomorrow without Rick, and all I can think about is TV. With Rick gone, I feel like I have so many questions. Do I keep watching the shows he liked but I only tolerated just because they're already set to record? How could he just leave this world without ever knowing what happens on the new season of 24? And what about Downton Abbey? He died with the storyline just hanging unfinished in his mind.
But the biggest thing I keep wondering is what to do with the PGA Tour Golf that's saved in my DVR. He recorded it both the day before he died and the day he died. And he never watched it...
It feels so wrong and painful to just click it and hit "delete." I can't bring myself to do it. No matter how many times I look at it, I can't bring myself to do it. I think I've decided that I'll play some of it every night just during the time I write this blog. It can be my backdrop, my background noise, my company. There's 7.5 hours of golf on my DVR, so it should take me a while to get through all of it in small chunks. I want to be able to feel like I didn't just delete it. I want to be able to say, "Okay, Rick, we watched your golf."
TV presents so many little problems.
I'm afraid to watch movies or shows that could have a theme of suicide... What if I don't know it's coming? Do I alter my TV watching habits to be safe? Do I face it head on and take it as it comes?
For now, I continue to put the remote back on his side of the end table that is between our two chairs in the living room. It doesn't feel right next to me. I change the channel and give it back to him, just like I always did. It's more than a habit... it's a reflex.
Just like my love for him.