As I’d anticipated, today is not as good a day as yesterday. Will did overdo it, and he’s paying for it by feeling tired and woozy. At Mass this morning, he sat through the whole service and even had to be brought Communion by the priest, like a lot of our older parishioners who can’t walk up to the altar.
That’s when I felt my heart rip in two. Again. Tears were streaming down my face as I went up to receive my Lord and Savior, and I replayed the scene over and over in my mind’s eye: the pastoral associate asking Will if he wanted Communion brought to him, his softly whispered “Yes,” the expression on Father’s face as he placed the Host in Will’s hand.
After I was through bawling like a baby, I realized that this was simply another cold, hard dose of reality that was meant to remind me that I’m NOT in the middle of a bad dream from which I’m going to awaken. The hits just keep on coming, and I know it’s not going to be any different anytime soon.
Even so, I desperately want everything to be normal again……I want to lie beside Will in bed every night for the rest of my life and listen to him snore, secure in the knowledge that he’ll always be there. I want to hold his hand as we grow old together, still as much in love as ever, without the shadow of cancer hanging over our heads. Most of all, I want to continue to rely on the steady hands which have guided me through my most difficult life experiences, the love which has sustained me during our darkest days, and the unconditional acceptance that has allowed me to live a full life even with a serious mental illness.
I’m trying to eat this elephant one bite at a time, but thoughts of the future without my “rock” keep sneaking through, unbidden and unwanted. My God, the problems……like where to live, you know, “after”. I know I’ll never be able to stay in this house once he’s no longer here—it contains too many memories—and I’ll need to move anyway because I can’t manage the property alone and don’t want to rattle around in this big old house like a pea in a very large pod.
I’m also half-afraid to live alone. My sister is moving to a town 50 miles away, my kids are scattered all over the Western half of the United States; who will be there for me when I’m in crisis and need a ‘keeper’? Yet I can’t imagine living with any of my children, dear as they are……I couldn’t do that to them. OR me.
I know these are concerns that do have to be addressed, preferably sooner rather than later. But as depressed as I am right now, it’s a dangerous time to be making those decisions; and when you get right down to where the cheese binds, I don’t want to ruin whatever time Will and I have to be together.
But, tomorrow is another day, and his biopsy is scheduled for the morning; soon we will know approximately how bad all this is, and THAT is when the decision-making process will begin in earnest. So in the meantime, I’ll try to put that scenario from Mass out of my mind and watch over him as he dozes in his chair, looking blessedly like the man I’ve known and loved for over three decades.
Sleep, my love……sleep and rest…….rest and sleep.
3 thoughts on “The Hits Just Keep On Coming”
Now is NOT the time for those sort of problems needing answers. Enjoy your husband, the house will be there and i personally thought same as you but i was able to stay in home for 2 years! You may surprise yourself..but even if you need to move , house will not sell day one. You may decide to move closer to one of your kids. So many thing could happen between. Now and then. Just worry about Will and yourself. Hugs to both of you
“Today” was bad, “today,” he couldn’t go up for communion. At the same time I think you are seeing into the future, when those kinds of todays will repeat themselves … You are way far ahead of yourself and I know you know that (the what ifs, and whens, that are not “today.”) but this is part of what we do when we are hit between the eyes with a 2×4, it hurts for a while and you see stars and maybe (thankfully?) pass out for a little while… just keep at it Marla… the “doinnnnng” of the 2×4 IS going to stop eventually and you will be able to see what is really what… glad tomorrow (the biopsy) is happening sooner than later so you can know what’s going to happen (and even then, we don’t know what the GREAT physician has to say! or what His will may be in this…). Love and as always prayers…
And thinking what if you still had that job? What if your sis was still presently living w/ you? See, God orchestrated those things, He is orchestrating this, even though the notes are very very sour right now.
Enough metaphors in this post do you think?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Actually, I think your post is spot on. Check out my next one…..you really made me think.