Open Thread - Friday, February 1, 2019
When I think of death, and of late the idea has come with alarming frequency, I seem at peace with the idea that a day will dawn when I will no longer be among those living in this valley of strange humors. I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else. I find it impossible to let a friend or relative go into that country of no return. Disbelief becomes my close companion, and anger follows in its wake. I answer the heroic question 'Death, where is thy sting? ' with ' it is here in my heart and mind and memories.'- Maya Agelou -
Last night marked two years since I held Sue.
Sue meant more to me than words can express. The pain of losing her persists. I know the anger Maya Agelou speaks of. Eventually, the grieving process arrives at the angry at the world state. The agitation and confusion are overbearing. A part of me died with Sue. There is a hole that can not be filled.
We had been together since 1978. We grew up together. She made me better.
We had good times! Live music, sporting events, walks in the woods, traveling, raising a family, volunteering in the community, drinking beer, cooking, eating, talking, snuggling and enjoying our lives, together.
I have a flair for rowdiness, exuberance and rambunctiousness. Sue helped me color within the lines, when prudent. Absolutely, better than I could have accomplished on my own.
I had always conceived that I would die first. During Sue's ALS convalescence, I had time to try to adjust to her dying. I could not accept the eventuality. I did everything I could to enhance her quality of life and keep her with me for as long as possible. She never gave up. I burnt out, but never gave up. I kept her home for as long as possible. Sue was in residential hospice for eleven days. Even though I knew the eventuality, I was not ready to let her go.
The grieving process is much longer and more complex than I ever understood. The first year flew by. I was busy with things like probate, selling handicap van, getting car, wandering among the ambulatory world and reestablishing my identity. Eventually, malaise and a darker mood set in. The loneliness and emptiness really sucks.
I can still feel Sue. She has left the physical world, but she did not cease to exist. She is a part of me. So many things remind me of Sue. I always play music on random, and sometimes I could swear she is picking the songs. I still have the strength she gave me.
I think I will go for a walk in the woods, listen to the birds, sit in the dappled light, and think about the love that
Thank you for being here.
Have a great weekend! The thread is OPEN.