Tonight I spent hours sifting through pictures of my late husband for his memorial service. I would almost call the process therapeutic, weird, in a way, but yes, therapeutic.
Looking at all those pictures, waves of guilt, sadness, happiness, regret, what else? I am not even sure there are any emotions left in me to put down. I wanted this fucking shitty cancer to be gone, and now guess what? I have my wish, poof, gone, but guess what? Now what? Now, what is what I keep asking myself.
I spent 30 years with this person, some good, some shitty, I guess that is what you call marriage. I am not sure if I loved him as much as he loved me but we stayed together, we worked through our shit and here I am, now I am single. I am not sure If I feel more sadness for him or for myself because the reality is, now I am alone.
A long time ago my mother, who was a classic textbook narcissist, said to me when I was thinking of leaving Alan, "well you better make up your mind soon or one day you will be old and baggy and nobody will want you." Back then, that comment seemed almost normal because when you grow up in dysfunction junction, isn't that normal? But now here I am, I am old and baggy. I am a single 55-year-old mom. I am not sure If I feel sorrier for myself or for him and his cancer.
Going through those pictures, sad, every one of them is handsome, smiling, but the cigarette all the time. He could never quit that habit and I always just accepted it but over time I saw how much it aged him. Sad.
I guess there are stages of grief and I keep circling back to each one like a fucked up circle jerk, round and round. One minute, depressed, next minute I am onto bargaining, then finally acceptance. Although I am kidding myself with acceptance, really? Do you ever accept that your significant other is gone? I think not.
Months before he left, I was so bitter, I felt resentment, anger, pain, depression, bubbling up like a volcano. In a way, sweet relief that he was gone, now I sit in my bed, alone and think, if only he was here with me, a warm body unit, breathing, his hair, his skin, anything. I feel so alone and sad. Is this normal? I have never grieved like this before.
While he faded it was like watching the light fade on this man I once knew, a small version of this man, cancer, and morphine had reduced him to a shell of the person I used to know. I tried to talk to him but all that came back was mumbling and then sleep. His eyes started to sink in, his breath was shallower and shallower. He kept asking about his car, his keys, when is he going. I wished I would have had a better answer but all I could think of is, we are taking my car because of the snow.
When I had a day to think it over, I realized he was ready to go, that was his way. Let's get in the car and drive, let's get out of here. He asked for his cousins, I guess that is what happens when you are ready to go, you think back to people that are gone.
At first, sweet relief, now sadness and grief. I feel like I was not the best wife, friend, lover, I could have been, guilt, depression, wouldas and couldas cloud my senses. No going back, it is what it is. I just wish we had more time together but isn't that the bargaining tool that everybody wants?
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