All That Matters

This has been the longest week. Monday was so long ago I can't even tell you what I did! I got a lot of work done this week and am in a very good place there. I pray it holds, that no disasters rear their heads.

I am stressed over not having a car. I can't leave my house without trying to find someone to take me where I need to go. I have stayed home. There are buses but the stops are half mile from the house and I don't see lugging things home that far. I can't carry a handbag anymore for very long so carrying bags of anything would be a very bad idea. But I've got food for the moment. I just can't go look for a car.

I had lunch on Thursday with my friend, Loraine, from the Writers' Asylum. Loraine is so quiet! I feel like I simply babble on and she sits and listens politely, smiling. She's so nice. I told her that next time she has to tell me to be quiet and let her get a word in! Sometimes, I can't seem to stop the flow and I know it is because I have so few opportunities to really have a conversation with a responsible adult who listens to me. It is an embarrassing realization. I am thankful for those in my group who have volunteered to be ears and give of their time.

For the most part I've managed to keep the wolves at bay except when I go to bed at night and the house is dark and silent. I have to always put on some classical music so I don't go totally crazy. Sometimes I have to call someone, usually Becca, and lie in the dark and ask her to talk to me for a bit. I simply have not adjusted to the nights and do not, at this point, think I ever will. I despise the isolation it brings. I am always isolated but the darkness makes me notice it more. Several nights I've grabbed the crochet and started counting stitches just to block everything out but the sound of math. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. I no longer look for answers actually. It just is. I don't like it. I am not happy. I no longer expect to be.

In fact, I have realized that I don't expect much of anything these days. I don't really think about tomorrow. I found myself sitting here a few nights ago and I realized I was thinking about nothing. I seem to be living in the moment. I need to eat. I need to drink. I need to sleep. Make this bed. Turn on the washer. Put these in the dryer and these in the washer. Answer the phone. Brush my teeth. Check mail. Go to bed. I know it sounds crazy but that is exactly what my day, every day is like. I have no idea what to do next most of the time. Life seems to have ground to halt and moves forward only when required.

My friend, Ron, in Michigan emailed me that his father is in the hospital and he thinks he will die soon. His father is in his 90's. Of course, Ron thinks it is "just life" and seems quite calm about the whole thing. But I know him well enough to know that he wouldn't have emailed me at all for something as simple as "just life". He said he did not want sympathy. I gave it anyway and told him "This is harder than you pretend it is. You won't know it until it is over".

Why do people want to pretend that death will not touch them? It is such a foolish belief. He barges in and rips us apart without any thought to what we think or how we feel about anything. It doesn't matter. For him, it is personal. He comes unannounced, takes his prize, and leaves misery in his wake. I will never be whole again because of death.

I do not wish to offend anyone's sensibilities about death being "sweet release", the "door to a better life". If you feel that way, good for you.  I won't mind being in heaven. I'd mind the other place. It is the manner in which I'm forced to travel that I have a problem with. You see, I've stared into the dead eyes of my soul. I will never be able to view it any differently. I can't ever erase the sounds and sight of it. For me, it is eternally a nightmare.

If you still can't understand, go find the video of the volunteer firefighter in Japan. When the sirens went off he left his family at home and went to do his job. Watch his face when he returned home and realized his entire family is gone - wife, children, and grandchildren. All dead. He is not young. There is no starting over. All that mattered washed away.

So, the week ends. I'm glad it is over. I'm glad I survived another day. Only, as with the end of every week, I know that it doesn't matter. In one second of time everything changes. All that matters is swept away on the tide.