Five weeks later

Gradually adjusting to a single life, again. It will take me awhile to adjust to life without John. His spirit drifts from place to place in this house, and in the habits I adopted as his partner. I experience periods of fatigue, wanting to escape, wishing I were elsewhere. Some of this is depression. I am applying the only countermeasures I know, which are to continue with my music and my German, and to delegate other tasks to contractors. The garage roof and the fence are complete, the garage painting is scheduled, and I am paying the neighbor kid to mow the lawn. Most of John's undergarments are in a suitcase in his car awaiting donation to Episcopal Charities. His DVD collection sits in six cartons in the living room awaiting shipping labels, now three days late in arriving. I will spend more time next week sorting his CD collection, then his vinyl. In the meantime, I have other obligations that I must discharge, such as home maintenance and attention to my son's needs. I have a niece whose attorney has not responded to my phone call. I need to fix the scuffs on my car prior to putting it on the market. I don't know how to sell a car, nor how to buy one. Time and energy, each task. I'd rather be basking in the sun in a warm clime. For that, I should be looking for someone to take care of my cat Lili, rather than just boarding her. Another time-consuming task.

I hope that sometime in the near future I cross paths with another engaging soul, that we can forge a relationship that lasts longer than five years. As engaging as John was, his 2008 brain injury caused him - and me - considerable flexibility and mutual enjoyment. O Lord, hear my prayer.

John didn't make it

When John fell on August 15th, he hit his head, probably on the grandmother clock at the foot of the stairs. The epidural hematoma, aka "brain bleed," was so large that it severely injured John's brain. I don't even want to discuss the details of his injury nor the proposals of his physicians, all of which pointed to a severe loss of the person who was John. But, I believe he understood me when I told him we were invoking his living will, because he appeared to yield and die within 36 hours of arriving at inpatient hospice care. He left us on August 25th. I don't want to discuss that, either. The last two or three hours of his life were calmer, as apnea gradually overtook him. Poor sweet puppy, you left us waay too soon, but perhaps about right for you. I wanted you with me for a longer time.

Now, nearly four weeks later, after a memorial mass, a brief but loving committal service and lots of support from friends and relatives, I'm beginning to recover my own sense of self and responsibilities. My period of bereavement is gradually subsiding. I am engaged in the new projects that John left me. I am asking all John's health care providers for a reduced settlement, so that all may receive something. The garage has been re-roofed. The fence is removed and the north side replaced (not without some flak from the cranky neighbor to the north). I will decide today or tomorrow who gets to paint the garage. I am recording John's DVD, CD and vinyl collections for eventual sale to the highest bidder. One of these days, I will escape from Northwest Indiana to a home somewhere else, like Hyde Park. Or elsewhere, who knows. I am still discussing with God the next phase of my life, but it's much too early in the conversation to disclose details.

A prayer to one who lost her mother

I left this post to a close friend who lost her mother this week:

What a delight, Oh Lord,
that you would receive
your servant Margot
into your presence.

What a delight, Oh Lord,
that we would see
a glimpse of your beauty,
from pain to its release,
from angst to its redemption,
from fear to its freedom!

What a delight, Oh Lord,
You have released her
to unfettered joy.