Every Day is the Threshold of the Rest of Your Life.

Threshold: (n) any place or point of entering or beginning.

Birthdays that have someone turning 30, 40, 50, 60 etc are often accompanied by a party. Not so much because the person is excited about being launched into a new decade. Often the party is to soften the blow of these threshold birthdays. 

For the past couple of months I had been viewing November 28, 2019, the anniversary of Albert's passing, sort of as a threshold day. One which would launch me into a new phase. And I didn't want to go. 

I have sort of felt some security in being a "recent" widow. Perhaps even justified in living a bit selfishly as I stumble along this path of grief and mourning. 

I didn't plan a party as such, to soften the blow of the day but I did plan to share a meal with Jed and JimE. A meal which would have had Albert declaring at some point, "Mighty fine vitals, woman."  I heard that often during dinner. Followed by him patting his belly with both hands at the end of the meal and singing, "I'm a fat little bugger and I don't know why - my wife don't feed me no pumpkin pie. I don't know, but I'm feeling fine. Must be all that steak and wine." (I honestly don't know if this is something he made up or if it started out as someone else's song or ditty. My life with A was filled with ditties. And this one made regular appearances.) 

I have been eating a keto diet for over six months, but I planned Nov 28th to be an intentional carb day as I meal planned: steak with blue cheese topping, baked potatoes, bacon wrapped scallops, roasted beets, salad and garlic toast. All topped off with tiramisu - an Olive Garden favourite that Alb and I shared many times over the years. 

And while I was grocery shopping I decided since I was having a carb day, I would buy an apple to enjoy on the day. I have nothing but good things to say about the keto life, however, I really miss apples.  

I lingered over the bins of various apples, fondling many of them, trying to find the perfect apple. I compared colours, size, firmness and checked for blemishes and bruises. I basically was salivating in the produce department as I envisioned slicing up my perfect apple, dusting it lightly with salt and eating it alongside a few slices of extra old cheese.

Much like a birthday, I awoke in the morning feeling really no different than I had the day before, despite the numbers having changed. The day that I had feared and dreaded really didn't change anything. I'm simply one day further along in my journey. 

And in mid afternoon, I cut into my perfect apple. 

And I cried. I literally cried. 

What appeared on the outside to be perfect, was a complete disappointment. 

And my day that presented as fearful, turned out to be a really lovely, meaningful time as Jed and JimE and I reminisced, listened to songs and sound bites, laughed and even cried.