Cowboy Bob Sorensen

by Cowboy Bob Sorensen After the loss of my beloved Charlene, several people suggested that I read A Grief Observed  by C.S. Lewis. It is a short book, but being mostly alone and dealing with my recovery from open-heart surgery, legal matters involving her estate, the tyranny of the physiological and mental problems of grief fog — reading was a challenge. However, after I purchased it, I converted it into an audio book with a text-to-speech service. Voices in TtS can be quite good. Lewis was British, so I chose a voice with an appropriate accent. It took an hour to hear, and I listened to it again this morning. A 1998 Polaroid photo of Charlene A quick side trail here. Remember when I said she had lousy self-esteem ? I found the Polaroid picture that was scanned and sent to me. It was the first image I saw of her, and still burned in my memory is that she said, "I hope it doesn't make you sick." A Grief Observed  was written after Lewis' wife died of cancer. They had

by Cowboy Bob Sorensen  Hopefully this article will at least prove interesting as well as helpful for people going through the grieving process. Charlene has been gone for just over three months, and this first Christmas in over twenty years without her is brutal. This morning I got up and took a picture of the tree, which is three feet tall and pre-lit, set on an end-table. I added some ornaments. One was a gut punch because it was from her late sister, "New Home 2008" for our new apartment. Now Charlene is celebrating her first Christmas with Jesus in her new home . Using a tripod and the phone camera's night setting, plus I removed clutter Our last Christmas together, we both had the Rona. On Christmas Eve, we watched the 1951  Scrooge  (changed to A Christmas Carol )...just noticed that I wrote "we watched" out of habit. This movie was in our rotation for Christmas Eve and Day viewings. I only made it about halfway though, what with being tired and all — we

by Cowboy Bob Sorensen  Today is the 67th birthday of my beloved Charlene, which she is celebrating in Heaven. Right now, I am writing this while listening to one of those music compilation CDs that I made her long ago. The concept of self-esteem has exaggerated importance, often used as an excuse for inflated egos and pride. However, the healthy kind is important. As I mentioned before, we met online and got to know each other texting through AOL. It did not take long to learn that her self-esteem had taken a beating her entire life. Baby Charlene ca. 1957, via PhotoFunia and other enhancement processes Charlene almost never received "props" or complements from her parents. Her daughter (who died in 2010) and ex-husband verbally and mentally abused her. Lots of manipulation. Like I have done, she had wished to go to sleep and never wake up. I think her belief that self-elimination is a one-way ticket to Hell kept her alive. If I rightly recollect, she said she didn't de

People have probably noticed that in my articles on grief, I am being transparent. Anyone grieving needs to do this at least with themselves and counselors (which can include caring friends and family). I also admit to muddling through it all and probably never knowing the answers. This time, I am admitting that I underestimated Charlene's love for me. In my defense, we had a time of troubles years ago and she said she did not love me as much as before. In her defense, people change over time and she did indeed love me again later on. The other part is that I did not know until she went to be with Jesus how much I love her. People don't need to dramatically proclaim and demonstrate "I love you!" all the time. Love can be demonstrated in small ways as well, trickling in as time passes. They don't have to be material, either. Encouraging remarks, courtesies, showing respect, and other things add up. I bought a small book light so I could read in the living room with

by Cowboy Bob Sorensen  Back in the late 1990s, I was in a loveless marriage and wanted to end it. By 1998, I was just existing and willing to let my psyche die. Charlene found me on AOL one evening, and we talked through the messenger almost every night for a year before we actually met in person. In a way, we knew each other inside out, sharing thoughts and feelings. We grew to love each other. I did not think I could be loved. From our first happy meeting in 1999, taken with a crummy disposable camera Charlene loved me before we met in person, and I started to come back to life inside. The execution of my own consciousness was halted, and I reckon that she saved my life; I may have not waited for the slow demise and hastened the process. This was still before we met. I wrote a couple of poems that are pretty dreadful about her. The poems were posted online and the property they were on disappeared, but I was able to find them again. I posted under an assumed name, so even though the

by Cowboy Bob Sorensen  This is a mite wordy, but it is light reading. Although I am going through pain that I could never have imagined, and sometimes wonder about my sanity, good things happen. That grief fog is (in my case) characterized by forgetfulness and distractions. I have to do my own laundry. Kind people were doing it for me while I was under cardiologist restrictions not to lift more than ten pounds. When I was cleared to ease into going back to work, I started doing laundry. This was one of the many things Charlene did. I watched a video on how to do it. Washers and dryers very similar to where I live, Unsplash / Douglas Monterrosa Being alone now and having simple tastes, it is rather easy. I decided that I had time before church, and the laundry center at the apartment complex was open. The grief fog was not too bad and I was feeling a bit more alert. I gathered everything, went over, put in the wash, set my timer, and came back to the apartment. Twenty-some minutes late

People who have paid attention to the original Star Trek  series have commented on, and even given serious thought to, how Mr. Spock and the other Vulcans go overboard in keeping emotions suppressed. They have them, but keep them tightly locked down. I think that is unhealthy — at least for real people. Emotions are a part of our lives, and God gave them to us for a reason. Still, it is inconvenient to break down in tears while in the shower, typing, or whatever. Too bad I cannot be logical and schedule those breakdowns. Charlene's car — well, my car now — by itself Someone told me that although emotions are not logical, they respond to logic. Well, maybe. But Charlene was my wife and best friend, and I'm going to allow myself to feel the emotions. Normally, I can hold them back in public or when I'm driving. Also, having a routine helps get me through the day: Clothes laid out the night before, the evening wind-down with a television show that we did for so many years stil