Objects of my affection

My Favourite Husband's 1964 Chevy C-10 half ton,
his 50th birthday gift. It always reminds me of him.

Sometimes memories are not enough.

I had 27 years of memories with My Favourite Husband (MFH). We were married for 24 and dating for three. That’s almost half my life. That’s a lot of memories although, greedily, I would have taken another 27.

When I’m having sad moments, melancholy times, those memories keep me motivated, keep me putting one foot in front of the other. I love all those memories — the good, the bad and the ugly.

However…

Some days I want to touch something, hold something, feel something that meant something to MFH. Some days I need a physical connection to him. I will never hold him again and, while his possessions are not the next best thing, it’s something. Something to grasp at.

MFH wasn’t overly materialistic. Given the choice between travelling and “stuff,” he, like me, would pick an adventure.

He did have a few things, though, that held a special place in his heart — and those are what I connect with.

First off is his 50th birthday present: a 1964 Chevy C-10 half ton. The outside needed no work but he restored the inside with his closest friend. They spent hours in the garage fixing it and sharing conversations that only the walls in our garage know the secrets of. It’s a seasonal driver and was his pride and joy. After he passed away last summer, I let it sit. I put a truck cover on it to keep it from getting too dusty but also because every time I looked at it, it broke my heart knowing the time and love put into it. This summer, the friend who helped restore it — a retired mechanic — came over and gave it a look … and I drove it. I will say this: I cried the first time I drove it. Big sobs. Sobs where you gulp for air. I cried so hard, I pulled over and a little voice in my head said: “You’re my hot chick in a hot truck and you’re crying.” Yeah, I pulled it together and drove and smiled. I’ve had it out a few more times since then and I love it. I can feel him with me when I’m driving. 

The second item I have is his wristwatch. It’s a man’s watch, so it’s big and heavy on my wrist but I don’t care. He loved his watch and it was the only piece of jewelry he wore. I have an Apple Watch for work but I wear his watch going out. MFH was punctual and I’m punctual (although I’m learning it’s OK to let things be a little looser once in a while) and wearing his watch reminds me that being on time meant something to both of us.

The last connection pieces I have are his racing T-shirts. He drag raced as a hobby for many years and, when he retired from racing, we often attended drag races. He collected T-shirts of his favourite racers and that was the main shirt staple in his wardrobe. 

When I cleaned out his clothes I donated everything but my favourite race shirts. They are way too big for me but I snuggle up in them and wear them as nightgowns. 

Does any of this really help? Yes … and no. Sometimes the “things” bring back memories to cherish. That eases my heart. Sometimes the “stuff” brings the pain back tenfold with realization he will never enjoy his possessions again.

Ultimately, I’m grateful to have things to hold on my heart and things to hold in my hand.

❤️