Wednesday, May 15, 2013

A photo of David popped up on my facebook feed today and it almost did me in, I hate it when I get taken by surprise like that.  I could feel him through that photo, one that had not become common for me to see.  The last few days I have been disconcerted by the fact that I can't remember what his voice sounded like or his laugh.  I can't really quite remember his smell.  I can still remember his touch and sometimes I turn and sort of see him out of the corner of my eye in places around the house.  In some ways I am grateful for the fading and in others it scares the hell out of me.  I found myself looking at one of his photos today and saying, "I don't know why I am hanging on to you, you left me without any trouble."  Not very nice of me, but sometimes I don't feel very nice about any of this. 

I see the photos of those last couple of weeks and I am struck by the difference in his essence, it shows even in the photos.  In the much earlier ones from five years ago he is strong, almost full of himself.  In the later ones he looks thinner, more fragile, but happier.  It seems the more the disease progressed the more gentle he became.  He settled in, took more time, was present in a way that he often struggled with before.  I wish I had had more time with him in that space.  But like so many major transitions in life it was full of activity and people.  Still, I treasure the days and moments we had, they really were an extraordinary gift. 

Sometimes it feels like I will never get through this and that really scares me.  I know people probably want me to get over it, I am jealous of the people who got to go home to "normal" after the services, and I am sick of this struggle and tired of whining about it.  But honestly, I also read and hear that everyone does this in their own way and own time.  So....

Anne Lamontt : "just do it: badly is fine"

Beckett:  "Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."


Just show up. Be brave. Be kind. Rest. Try again.

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