…… where the wind does indeed come sweeping down the plain.
A sweeping wind that sometimes threatens to knock you over.
Like the one this weekend.

But I love that wind.
Mostly.
Being back in Oklahoma, especially at the farm, is bittersweet.
More sweet than bitter, thankfully.

He should be there.
With me.
And with our children.
But he wasn’t.

I’m on a plane right now, writing this post.
And trying very hard to not cry, but as always, when I write about missing him, the tears flow.
Fortunately the guy next to me is asleep.

I had a good time in Oklahoma this past week.
If you don’t count the 8 days or so that I felt like crap.
I started coughing and having fever last Wednesday, two days before I left for Okla.
And I didn’t get better. Until I finally went to see a dr. this past Thursday. Nine days later.
Better late than never?

I’m on my 4th out of five days of antibiotics. And prescription cough medicine. And, for the first time ever, an inhaler.
I’m feeling much better.

I wasn’t a very exciting guest for Vicki. But it was nice to just hang with her and her family.
And it was nice to spend Moms Day with Son #3 at OSU last weekend. I’ve missed him.

And it was very nice to spend this past weekend with Daughter #2 and Son #1, and my father in law.
We surprised him with our visit, for his 89th birthday.
I think he was pleased.

And now I’m 10 minutes away from landing in NY.
And am very happy about that.
I’ve missed that city. Immensely.
I watched “When Harry Met Sally” on the plane and came close to crying when seeing all of the NY scenes. I was surprised by how much I’ve missed it.
And now I wonder how I’m going to handle being away for a month when I leave in two weeks.

Hopefully I’ll be so in love with my new home that it’ll be just fine.
I close on it in two weeks.
The thought of leaving our house is now starting to make me cry.
It’s time.
I’m ready.
But …… Can you ever truly be ready for something like this?
Leaving behind the home we thought would be our “forever” home.
Leaving behind the wall that has all of the kids’ measurements from every August.
Leaving behind the “secret room” under the stairs, where the kids and all of their friends signed the walls.
Leaving behind …… so much of us.

Yes, it will be painful …… and difficult.
But the memories go with me. And with each of the kids.
They can’t be left behind.
Hopefully I’ll keep that in mind.

I’m looking forward to moving into the new place. And making it mine.
I’m not looking forward to going through everything and deciding what to keep and what to sell/get rid of. That’s going to take a while.
But it has to be done, and other widowed people have done it before me, so I’ll do it.
And continue to move forward.

One step, one room at a time.