Personal Journal

Untitled

It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn

It was a good day emotionally and spiritually. I think I might be getting a head cold, but I might yet be able to avert any serious downtime. Big frustration that apparently my employer somehow told my insurance company to terminate my benefits Jan 31. Not a big deal, in the long run since I'm sure it's related to my leave of absence, which ended on the 17th of January.

But I didn't get my scrips in the mail (you've been in hospitals too long when yous tart calling 'prescriptions' 'scrips' and medication as 'meds'. <sigh>

You know, I miss having meals in the hospital cafeteria. Perhaps our hospital cafeteria here had exceptional cooks or something. Rarely did they screw up any food, and most of the time it was quite good. But back then, especially November and December before she went to hospice, that was one of the most important times I had - eating in the cafeteria. That was the only 'me' time I gave myself. I went there, had a healthy meal, and I put everything out of my mind for 15 minutes.

Every time I go on my hike, about halfway there's the scenic overlook of the city, and I always find the hospital rising above the surrounding houses downtown. I wonder why I do that? I think of it as "my" hospital in some sense. I always find myself referring to it that way. And I think something of Jean happened there.

That day I was trying to help her to the port-a-john, because she could no longer walk to the bathroom reliably. I tried to get her out of bed, and she lost complete coherency, she went limp in my arms, and I struggled to hold her up wondering what to do.

I held her there for 15 minutes, unable to get her to the bed again, and unable to reach for the nurse help call button. Way past what I would have guessed was my physical limit to hold her up. That was a strange feeling, wondering where my energy was coming from.

That was the first time I experienced that end period that Jean would not recover from. From there, it only got worse, in about 12 days she was gone. The road to her death started in that moment. Her last expressed wish to me was that she wanted to go to the bathroom.

I'm laughing about that now. Jean would have said "Oh Balls" if she knew that was the last thing she would communicate. I guess she let it be known when she was thirsty when she was in hospice about half the days. So those indeed were the last things.

It's just that moment. That moment is something special to me, and it happened in that hospital on the 10th floor. Room 1022 or maybe it was 1024. Man what a view that hospital has of the beauty of the Rockies.

I didn't expect all this shit to come up when I sat down here to write. I'm surprised it did. And it didn't wreck me or anything. Just showed itself to me again.

I'm finding that my memories of the worst things in those last two weeks are the ones that seem to be fading first. I find that interesting about the human brain. I've never remembered any kind of trauma in this manner. At times, I'm so aware of the slow burying that's going on here. It becomes less and less common to think of awful things, and harder to if I try.

I remember back when it all started, just after she died, and I thought in some rebellious James Dean fashion, "I don't EVER want to forget ANY of those things!" I wanted to make a shrine out of those memories because they were the last. At the time, they eclipsed the emotional sun that could have shone on the rest of my life, and my life with Jean. I could see nothing else.

I'm a helluva lot more mature about it now. "Fine, bury the awful shit. I don't need to remind myself, I was there!"

That let in more light, little spotlights on this or that, that now are turning on with more regularity. I see more, clearer than 3 months ago. Jean was a wonderful human being. That I won't ever forget, or lose place of in my emotional heart. There's an entire wing in there that is built on memories of Jean and my life with her, and whole houses are going to be built out of the structure of that wing, and I think that's literally

MARVELOUS!

I wonder sometimes how much of it I'll be able to share with anyone. The life inheritance tha tthose 30 months living withe her as my love, the lessons learned because those are great gifts. GREAT gifts. Legacy of Jean's and my love, how cool is that! But I just can't imagine a woman who would not find some sense of jealousy for me to speak of how Jean's influence will always be a part of my life.

Those things I'll have to remember only to myself, I think. Something cherished that only I can understand and touch. That's alright with me. Strange to think of, but nonetheless...

I meant to talk about Applebees and their kick-ass menu of stuff already converted to weight watcher's points. Hallelujah, is that stuff good. But wouldn't that sound a bit trite after rambling on about all the heavy shit again.

It's Good Friday, I used to call it Pontius Pilate day when I was a bit less respectful. Let us hope that those who sacrifice do not do so in vain.