I just got in from feeding the horses and I had to stop multiple times to pull up my pants and if I didn’t they might not still be on!
Normally, this is something I’d be ecstatic about! I’d be so happy… all smiles… But, I’m not… in fact, I’m sad.
I want to tell John. I want John to notice. I want him to congratulate me. John was never the type to comment when I’d put on weight. But he’d compliment me when I lost it. I didn’t start wearing jeans again till shortly before he passed away. I was embarrassed at what size they were. I put on a lot of weight with my pregnancy and I didn’t lose much of it. John told me it was good to see me in jeans again. I’d been wearing comfy yoga pants and not realizing how sloppy I looked. John was like that… he’d never be one to tell me that I didn’t look good when I didn’t, but he’d tell me that I looked good when he thought that I did.
Now, if I asked. He’d tell me straight up honest. That’s the way John was… a straight shooter… black and white… ask him for an opinion and you’d get it and you may not like to hear what he’d say. He didn’t sugar coat. He just told it like it was. He was impartial. He was tough. He always was fair. He also had the same high standards for himself that he had for everybody else. John could be a tough person to please. He expected you to be a certain way… he didn’t want to have to tell you… you should already know.
I digress, I’m down almost 15 lbs from where I had been. One person has noticed… that’s it. I know John would have noticed, but he’s gone.
So, instead, I’m sad that he’s not here and I’m sad that I’ll need to buy new jeans or dig out a belt.