Momentary Maudlin

June 1st, 2022

I heard this song today (Monday, Memorial Day). It’s been around for a while (2011) but I didn’t know it. I had never heard it. It’s from a musical called “Ghost” (I saw the film in the 90’s). The song is called “With You” and today, for some reason, it was just how I felt. Maudlin.

Maudlin: maud·lin. adj. Effusively sad or full of self-pity; extremely sentimental:

Yep, that described me today. Effusively sad. Full of self-pity. Extremely sentimental. HEY!! Don’t judge. The important thing is that I didn’t STAY down. 

I was going through his clothes today. Some still smell like him. Delicious. I liked that. No, I didn’t decide to sleep in his t-shirts… but I thought about it. So much of him left behind. It’s time to pack up for donation. I think. I still can’t drive by our old home but I’m going to, someday. 

I did learn something about myself. Yes, this song’s words were perfect about losing him. It jerked tears out of me. It let me temporarily go to a place of missing the heck out of Leland. BUT. I knew. I knew I could not stay there.

It was a momentary speck of time, allowing myself 4 minutes and 25 seconds of falling into memories of times past, looking at screensaver pictures of him and remembering when they were taken and what we were doing. I remembered all times he slow danced with me. I remember every wild place we made love. So many memories. And, yes. Choking up and talking to the ceiling, to him.

Then I sat up, shook off the maudlin and realized this: IF Leland saw me from heaven, wallowing for 4 minutes and 25 seconds, he wouldn’t like it. He wouldn’t want me falling into the mulligrubs. He would be shaking his head. He would not be pleased.

It was kind of nice remembering some of the special things about him. It is okay BECAUSE I won’t stay here. I can’t. If I focus backwards then I won’t be able to move forward. Much as I don’t like him leaving me here, I do have to move forward.

Josh (son) has absolutely forbidden me to leave him right now. I have books to finish. I have the rest of my life to live to the best of my ability without him. I face forward and breathe. One inhale and exhale at a time. 

Without him.

But I did enjoy this song for 4 minutes and 25 seconds. Shhhh! Don’t tell Josh. 


Mulligrubs, Meriam-Webster:  : a despondent, sullen, or ill-tempered mood : sulks, (the) blues. 



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3 Responses to “Momentary Maudlin”

  1. Dearest Nan,
    Oh, so understandable!
    There are wonderful memories that will live on, inside of you, till you meet again.
    There is nothing wrong with feeling the way you did, only temporarily.
    I’m alone in The Netherlands, finally past Covid getting the few things from Mom & Dad home…
    Doing WhatsApp video calls with Pieter at 8:00 AM when he has fed our five kitties and had breakfast. Then at 2:00 PM when he’s had his nap and lunch…
    Feels great.
    Monday I fly back home, after my Covid test on Sunday, hoping all goes well. Hate all this fuss about it, but this is my final flight so I will manage.

  2. You are certainly entitled to your 4 minutes, 25 seconds of memories, and songs are evocative for us both in times of joy and times of sadness and in complex times when they trigger both emotions. Between the Covid restrictions and my diagnosis of multiple myeloma, the following quote by Rachel Maria Martin resonates for me and I am trying to follow its advice:

    • LBDDiaries says:

      Suzanne: it cut off the quote!! Do it again! I’ll go to your web and repeat this!! I want to know that quote! Love and hugs 🥰

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