It isn’t a subject I really want to think about, call it perhaps Denial, but then again, maybe it is simply a case of not wanting to face the reality of life. I mean, we are born, we live for however long we do, then we die. It is just that, nothing more, nothing less, unless we are fortunate to have some special gift, talent, that will let our lives be remembered.
My own life, will not be remembered by many, if any, and yet it hasn’t been an issue, at least not until now.
Mom is 92, going on 93, and she too will not have many who will remember her. Even my pathetic attempt at trying to make this site for her, will more than likely pass off into the vastness of cyberspace, an odd visitor or two, and that will be it.
I never really realized, just how much a loving partner can play in one’s life. I used to fight, argue with Dad, and yet I see how much Mom longs for him, even now, and I wonder, will David feel that way about me, when I have left this earth? Maybe I am spending too much time, thinking about what is coming, or maybe not enough?
This life is fragile, one can go at any time, and Mom has had a good run. I know that, and I know too that she is in pain, but fights on. Yet death will be a release, and yet too, if one believes in God & heaven, she’ll finally be re-united with her soul-mate, Dad. As much as that should comfort me, it doesn’t. Call it selfishness, or whatever, but I want to cling on, to hold her with me, though I know the end is coming. Not today, next month, or even maybe next year, but coming it is, which makes me tremble.
Yet wanting that, I still find the daily tasks annoying, making me irritable, angry, and depressed. I find fault, or talk to myself about her, in a not so loving way. It makes me think of being a bad person, & yet deep down, I want her to be here, to be able to look over and see her reading her book, or the newspaper. It is a total contradiction of emotions, that leave me confused, dazed even. And yet, this is the life I lead, and refuse to change.
I know one should have ‘the talk’ with those who face death daily, such as Mom. I am sure she wonders about what it will be like, if she will meet up with the spirits of Dad, of her parents, siblings, or will it just be an emptiness. I guess, I too, think about that, though try not to.
While there is lots of stuff, about having that ‘talk‘ there is really nothing about who is there to talk to me, the one giving the talk? How do we, manage to cope with dealing with that eventuality? I suppose it is a bit selfish, but there is a feeling of emptiness, of becoming alone, that frightens me. Will David be there for me? or is it already too much for him?
Frankly I think it is too much for him, not even sure how he has managed all these months, as it is, and I know, it is only going to get worse really. I mean if she lingers, if her condition goes from being semi mobile, to immobility, what then? How will he cope with that, and how will he adjust, or will he?
Hell, how will I cope? I am already feeling worn out, broken and just exhausted, but who is there to talk to? David is the love of my life, yet he is not there, or not willing to be there. That hurts, and makes it even more overwhelming, more desperate. I don’t know anymore, where one turns, where one breaks out of the self imposed isolation, that this task creates.