Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Barely an hour goes by

that I am not confronted with either sensations of loss of my wife or personal pain with the recovery process from my heart surgery infection.

Most certainly I did not want to be alone. I did not want to be coming home to an empty house (a house we had striven to turn into our home).

I did not want to be eating my meals alone nor sitting alone in the evenings.

I did not want to be going to bed alone, nor waking alone, to go downstairs to an empty quiet house.

Like the character in Cast Away I have only the VAC pump ticking away as my companion. Of course I called it Wilson.

The discomfort of my chest wound (opened up to attempt removal of whatever may be infected) makes the daily chores of cooking, cleaning and washing all the more arduous than they would be if it was just me coping with her loss.

I struggle to stay alive and keep my health good to maximize my healing from the wounds the surgeon gave me (in order to keep me from dying from the infection I got from the surgery intended to save my life).

But to what end do I struggle? To be alone? To live without her by my side?

I live but I am barely living.

The silence is broken only by the struggle to remain alive and healthy and keep working.

The silence and absence of communication from many who professed to be my friends makes me wonder if they are really that? Perhaps they are simply unable to cope with the burden of calling me from time to time to say "hi"?

Why do these people remain distant and invisible when I could use their support and love? On occasions when we meet they say "you know we are thinking about you" ... sadly I don't. I must have missed out those telepathic genes.

When I have struggled with long and difficult tasks before there has always been a goal. When I have struggled to survive before there has always been a reason to live.

Am I struggling now simply out of habit?

My mother in law tells me that no one knows how sad she is, that no one knows how much she has lost.

Well I think I might have an idea.

If ever I find a point to my life without her you'll be the second to know (after me that is).

"come sweet slumber, enshroud me in thy purple cloak. ... Huh doesn't even rhyme"


Yu-Lin Chan said...

Many people simply don't know how to react to situations like this. It's easy to send an email, leave a message, but seeing one another is very different. I am sure most of your friends do care about you, perhaps not the way you want it. Stay positive, and be well. Anita would like to see that, I am sure.

Charles Maclauchlan said...

I would suspect, and suggest that your friends and acquaintances really don't know "what to say." They are uncertain how to help you and fear placing the burden of their loss on you as well...making things worse in other words.

A page has turned, life is different from what it was. The new life needs to unfold a day at a time, as all lives do. Some friends will proceed with you, unfortunately some will not. There will be new friends also.

Many care about you

Anonymous said...

Hi Bro,

Do you want us to listen or keep quiet? Surely a phone call may help from us, but as you said we will never truly understand your loss. I can't help but I can as a sister be there even if words are unspoken, there are the few yes you have contact with and those people alone are your family in the best way they know how . I guess the rest of us just well bluntly can't help, not because they can't or don't want to but just don't know how. Me for instance. I love you. That is what you neeed from me at least the words are there.


obakesan said...

Yu-Lin, sadly they don't even do that. Actually my relatives who normally don't contact me at all have been sending a text once a month or so. Which is nice. I try to stay positive but in the face of so many months of being sandblasted by an endless stream of difficulty it has been a challenge.

Charles, I know you are right. Surely "how's it going" would be a start. I wrote a blog post some months ago that grief is not a contagion, its not like the plague, you won't catch it by saying hi to me. You are right that life and time is a path and sometimes travelers who walked together out of expediency now go their own way. I know intellectually that they are in all probability thinking of me and caring about me. Its just that in times of feeling down and overwhelmed, that the intellectual knowledge provides very little comfort.

Kate, it is stunning to me that so many seem to turn to their navels when wondering what to do to help. Sending a txt on the phone to say Hi would cost very little and who knows, may make my day. When was the last time I didn't reply to a txt you sent me?

I did not intend this to be a missive or an inquisition (well, and nobody expects the spanish inquisition) into who does and does not care. I simply felt strongly what I felt and posted it on my blog.

I thank you all for your kindness and want you to know that it is not unappreciated. Truly it all matters to me.