Magical Thinking

Joan Didion wrote a wonderful memoir about the year following the unexpected death of her husband. It is so honest and true, and is really a worthwhile read for anybody since we all have to experience death in our lives.

I'm feeling some of the feelings she shared in the book. At times, I'm ok and at peace with the fact that Stanley's no longer here and suffering. But then something reminds me of him, some daily part of my routine or a certain place in the house, and it literally feels like someone has punched me in the heart with more force than I can take. I start thinking very irrational thoughts about how to reverse the decision I made and bring him back. And I'd like him back healthy and younger, not sick. I start apologizing to God for attempting to take his place for a day and deciding to end a life. I just want to see that face one more time, pet his soft head again, and hear his little toenails clicking on the hardwood floors as he wanders the house trying to figure out which room I'm in.

It's such a selfish thing, I admit it. It's all to make me feel better and not have to go through this pain. The pain is what makes you lose all sense of reality. Would I really want Stanley to have tried to keep going just so that I wouldn't have to go through this? Of course not. But rational thoughts are few and far between at this point. I was vacuuming and thinking that I hope I don't vacuum up all of Stanley's hair, because that would be sad. I get impatient with poor Molly because I expect her to follow me around the house like Stanley did, which she doesn't really do. I notice Henry seems to be looking for his canine buddy. I watched the video that I shot last Sunday of all of us in the backyard while Gabriel was in his baby pool, so that I could see him still alive. Anything to keep from having to completely let go of him right now.

My friend Sue said it best in her sweet email to me - she's praying that my heart starts to accept what my mind knew I had to do. I'm sure it will eventually. One of my favorite Indigo Girls songs is The Language or the Kiss. There's a line that goes, "There was a table set for six, and five were there... I stood outside and kept my eyes upon that empty chair." The song is really about the choice between love and a career, but I've always thought about that line as how you would feel after losing a loved one, and how trying to eat a meal afterwards would make you feel so lonely. We have a house that's set for 9 and 8 are there. And I see him everywhere still.