Throughout these past 2 months, I have had to march head first into inconceivably painful circumstances. Imagine going into your doctor's office and knowing you're due for your yearly rectal exam. Or, how about walking into a Best Buy knowing you need to return that camera, but the box has already been opened and you really don't want to pay that restocking fee. Or, better yet, boarding a cruise ship that is expected to skim the Bermuda Triangle and you forgot your Dramamine. How do you summon the strength to plow through these uncomfortable conditions?
As soon as I made the decision to dial 911 for the ambulance, I knew everything that came after that would be grueling and intolerable. But despite all this, I had to very quickly teach myself to walk like a soldier through the next weeks of my life. Stumbling half-assed through it all was not going to be an option.
Yet at 34, I still felt like a college kid. I watched MTV, I went out every weekend, I wore Pumas all the time. But as soon as I led paramedics up to our bedroom to palliate Cindy's incapacitation, I was no longer that 20-year old. I now had to make decisions that would affect someone else's life. How was this possible? I could barely decide which shirt to put on in the morning without Cindy's help.
Even after that night, I have had to charge into more unimaginable scenarios. Not one of them could I walk away from, not even today, which was my first day back at work since Cindy went into the hospital. The day itself was fine, but the evening was my downfall. I had to drive by the house to pick up the mail and the familiarity of the routine took me in a direction I had hoped to avoid. I wound up alone in our bedroom re-reading a love letter that Cindy had written me in 2002 where she quoted a favorite poem by Robert Browning: "My days were sunless and my nights were moonless . . . if you loved me not!' Even though there were no sheets on our bed and I had the heat turned off, I laid there for 2 hours. I wanted to leave sooner, but I could not rally the strength to walk into the night by myself.
There are times when I know that I HAVE to keep moving. But my body wants to reject movement that feels as though I am going to catapult myself towards a pile of rocks. My only hope is that, as the months go on, the surfaces I am propelled to soften.
3 comments:
how poignant. I'm glad you found a way to make it through last night. I'm impressed with your ability to embrace it, and keep moving forward.
Your experience reminded me of the "fight or flight" instinct. (you are clearly a fighter) which also reminds me of a line from Rocky (I know, cheesy - Rocky loses Adrian in this one BTW)... "Life is about how hard you get hit, and keep moving forward"
I am glad your day went well, even though we did not get a chance to talk. And I am sorry about your downfall at night. However, I am very proud of you for finding the strength to get up and get through it. Even though it is hard to find those love letters from Cindy, in a way, you can look at it as little messages that she wants you to find. To remind you of just how much she loved you and always remember that and to keep moving on. She will always be right there with you.
We have no idea what we are capable of. And we usually find out at the worst possible moment. I'm so glad you still have her love letters.
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