Well, I was thinking about what to write about the first anniversary of Theo's passing. It's a big thing. So I'll ramble about a bit, if that's OK. My thoughts are not collected, since I got sick and have spent the large majority of the time since noontime yesterday lying down worrying or being asleep. I was going to visit Theo's burial site-ito today with a bouquet of flowers, but it is not meant to be. Manyana, say I with confidence; manyana.
You can see that I have forgotten how to make a tilde on here.
For today, I am just thinking about my husband. I am remembering the last week of his life, a bitter and frustrating one for both of us. Off to the hospital he must go, though he did not want to. And a change of direction, for they were going to send him home right away until his condition suddenly took a turn for the worse and they pronounced him moribund...not in so many words, but with dire enough words of their own...all saying: Watch out.
So he went, gave up the ghost, expired, passed away one year ago tonight at about ten thirty. "A year ago at this moment he was still alive," says the voice in one's brain, but we all, Theo and voice and I all know that his clock was ticking forward and it was just a matter of time. And to the clock it doesn't matter.
The kids console themselves with the idea that it was all just a result of lifestyle choices that he made for the last thirty years...that he should die of kidney failure brought on by diabetes and its neglect. That it was inevitable..well, it's true, our deaths are inevitable...but he might have enjoyed a few more years. Maybe.
I 've told everyone that I've flunked Widowhood 101, because my year has gone by and I do not feel any more ready to "go on" than I did. But that is not true. I always have said after observing my own parents' end of life, that the first one who dies, dies as a married person. The second one dies a single person. The work of this first year has been to find that single person who is surviving the trauma. So maybe I am not so far behind after all, maybe I have not flunked entirely even though I am not yet out 'in the world,' and still wondering what to do next. But I now realize that that single person is here and I 've gotta take care of her the best I can. All of her.
I was thinking of the best things I liked about my husband, and as I go over them I think they are about the best marriage advice one could ask for. Of course there are always negatives, and we won't deal with them today. But here were the positives about my husband.
1. He was the brightest person I have ever known, and was quite fearless in many respects. He would go anywhere, (except into water), drive off into any weather, pitch a tent in any situation, and never worry at all about it.
2. He had an incredible, funny sense of humor. Quirky. Quiet. Ever present.
3. He didnt believe in going into debt for things (it was even hard to get him to buy a house at first)...and we were in agreement in our attitudes about credit and so forth.
4. He was perfectly neat and clean in his person. This is such a 'given' that it seems out of place to mention it in this list, but many men and women don't hold to the idea of the daily bath and it does make such a difference in the physical intimacy of marriage.
5. He was always agreeable to buying a bouquet of flowers when we did our supermarket shopping. He always wanted to come along so he could frown at olives and sardines and other food items out of the Oklahoma diet..but he never, not once, said no to the flowers and would even remind me that I wanted to get them.
Simple things. All were a matter of chance as to 'knowing' a person before you hook up...or was it a matter of instinct? One wonders. In those things, though, I was very lucky to have had him. Very very lucky.
He once complained that I didnt appreciate him, and I think I confounded him (and myself) by saying, "Don't you think I appreciate you? You gave me my life." And it was true, as I just realized that when I said the words to him.
He did give me my life, and my children, and all the things I now own and have, except for his physical self. He also gave me pains in the kazoo beyond recounting, but that is another story, the whole story of our life as we shared it. YAZZYBEL
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