Everyone reading this please slow down and really read these next sentences.
Take the time, right now, to be with the someone you love. Invest the time, right now. Tell them you love them, right now. Don't wait until tomorrow or for a perfect moment. Do it now.
You never know when June 1st is going to come.
There's been an event that keeps coming back to me over and over again over the last few weeks.
On one particular occasion at Froedtert hospital, I had headed down to the non denominational chapel to pray, and to try and call in every last favor I possibly could to extend Jen's life. In the chapel was a man, who I'm assuming was Muslim, on a mat praying. It was an interesting moment. I didn't interrupt him. He didn't interrupt me. We were both in this space praying to the diety we were taught to. In other parts of the world our religions are vehemietly opposed to each other. But here we were both united in our suffering and need for help.
While we were there, a part of me wondered, are we praying to the same god? Or different ones? Are we both right, is one of us right, or have we both been delusioned into believing that there's something or someone listening to our pleas? In the days since, I've revisited that encounter and wondered about who he may have been praying for. Did they make it? If so was it because he was praying to the right god, and I was wrong? Crazy talk, I know, but such are the ponderings of a young widower.
D Day. I'm not sure anyone knew how torn up inside I was on Friday and Saturday.
The last week has been a reminder that this is still a difficult journey.
The house needs to have a thorough cleaning. It isn't a complete disaster, but it doesn't smell fresh. Makes me wonder what I'm not doing that's causing it.
And because of my scatteredness one morning this week I forgot my badge which keep me from getting into the parking garage and made me wait at the front desk.
I haven't had any real breakdowns recently but that changed this week too. Two things happened which, in succession, broke me down.
First, I re-listened to the voice recording of me telling the kids that Jen had cancer. In the background I hear Jen coughing and it brought back all the memories of her being with us but knowing she had cancer. The agony of those first weeks, dealing with the enormity, the uncertainty, and how to break it to everybody. It all came back.
Then...
I was going back in my Evernote application. I have an email from Jen talking about how excited she was to go to the JCI Christmas party and wondering if we were going to meet our friends the Saucedas and Arths there. Looking at the date of the email she had about 5 weeks left to live when she wrote it. She so looked forward to that night. We didn't say it to each other or anyone else, but I think we both knew that it was going to be the last "night out" we would have.
After I read that email I was a wreck. I felt sunk. Like the tasks I was doing at work were so meaningless, so pointless, why the hell am I doing any of this?
And then the very basic questions with no possible answers started coming back....
Why can't I be with my wife? Why can't I go home to her right now? Why did this have to happen like this? Why does ....just .... WHY!?
I keep these things because they are my tangible connections to Jen. I'm truly afraid that as shot as my memory is I'll forget her, and I'll have to rely on these things to remember how she sounded, how she laughed. So I don't dare get rid of them. But it's a double edged sword. They certainly bring back the memories of Jen but they bring back the hurt too.
On Wednesday night something new and very depressing happened...
I drempt that Jen was still alive. We weren't doing anything special, it was a vivid dream of everyday activities in the house, but she was there. "Oh my God, she's here!" It was, as far as I could tell in the moment, real. For a few moments my mind was fooled into thinking she was still here. Part of my mind questioned it and thought "we must be dreaming", but the heart simply leapt for joy.
And then I woke up...
And reality returned...
It's was 2:23am. and there was nobody else in the room with me.
I didn't get back to sleep that night.
Life is just plain lonely now after the kids go to bed.
I know what it's like to get a little sideways on a weeknight. To say "the kids are in bed and I don't have to log into work". There's no one else to bounce stupid ideas or call out your bad behavior, So you say, "fuck it" and you get hammered. Trying to forget about getting ahead in my career, the bills, the home owners association commitments. whatever. You sit down with a beer and the playstation controller and stick the brain in neutral for a while. You know it's not the best thing to do, but, what the hell. Who does it hurt?
Being a single father is an absolutely noble cause, and I get it, but there are times when I just want to punch out. To step outside this story for a while. Because when I sit and think about it, it's very painful. And at the end of the day, very lonely.
But, even with all of the emotional hardship involve, I've come to the realization that all things concidered, we're doing pretty well. I've got kids who've really stepped up and moved forward. I've got a great job and employer that understands whats going on. We're not in debt. Other than the fact that I'm a single parent in his early 40s, trying to raise 3 capable, strong girls alone, I'm doing damn good. I don't want to paint this picture of " woe is me" " life is horrible". It's not. Except for the fact I lost he love of my life, things are great.
That might be part of the problem. Jen and I made these choices to put us here. We were... comfortable. On our way... We never thought we " had it made" but we sure were happy with where we had positioned our lives and the family. We actually told each other as much.
And then cancer had to come into it.
I miss you Jen. I wish you were here to share this with me.
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