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Monday, Mar. 25, 2002 - 4:52 A.M.

Forever


This isn't a particularly pleasant post, it's not funny for sure. If it's comedy you need, check my archives, or tune in tomorrow. This is something that MOTH asked me to write. And so I shall.

I often have premonitions. Strong ones. 99% of them are negative, usually a major accident or death or violent in some way. However, about 99% of those premonitions never come true. In fact, it has become almost a good thing for me to have one. I can try to assure myself that if I am having a premonition about someone being hurt, they will be fine.

Last week it was kind of different. When MOTH went numb, I stayed unusually calm. No palpitations, no tears. I was rational. Logical. First, call to see if the regular Dr. was taking his own calls. He was. Wait for him to call, I knew he'd be at the hospital making rounds. He was. He called us quickly and we got to the ER fast. In fact, the waiting room was empty so there was no wait. I had the list of medications he takes for the nurse. I knew his typical blood pressure, his surgical history. We flew through triage.

I knew that he had a mild stroke. I knew that the Dr. wasn't going to tell us that nothing was wrong. I knew that although the CT-scan showed something that might be a tumor, that it wasn't. I knew that it was a bleed. And I knew that he was in no immediate danger. But at the same time, a feeling swept over me and persisted throughout the week, that MOTH and I weren't going to have the decades together that we'd hoped.

I know...I know, it all sounds very histrionic and maudlin. It didn't feel that way though. I kept it mostly to myself, except I shared my feelings with my mom. She understood them. She always does. That's her job. And she does it well.

What I found myself doing was not fretting and carrying on. What I was doing was visualizing in my mind how it would be to be alone. I know it's the thing to say, that if anything should happen to MOTH that I wouldn't want anyone else. But I honestly believe that to be true.

When I met #1, I was sure that if I didn't get married SOON, I never would, and would never have children. I didn't care that he openly didn't think I was good enough for him, I just didn't want to be alone. When I filed for divorce, I was just starting to realize that having no one was better than having the wrong one. But I threw myself into the post-divorce frenzy you hear about so often. I dated anything that moved, I'm sure out of fear of being alone. Within a year I was unfortunate enough to run into jackass who satiated my need to be needed. We married 4 months later and thus I was, again, with the wrong person. It was shortly after I realized this that I met MOTH, on the internet, and we became chatters, met, and became friends. When we met, he knew I was married, it wasn't like this was a "break up a marriage" kind of thing. But I had someone with whom I could talk, someone who knew only me. Not my kids, not the jackass. Someone who could look at me and listen to me and see how my life with this ass was affecting ME. And he supported me with every decision I made, from trying to make the marriage work, to deciding to end it. From our friendship grew love.

And now, when I think about life without him, whenever that may be, I know that I don't want anyone else ever again. I don't think I would want to date, to get to know anyone well enough to love again. I wouldn't want to invest that much of me again. I believe that we have life-partners, and if we are lucky enough, we find them. Some are lucky and find them right away. Both my parents and MOTH's were in that category. Others, like MOTH and I, aren't quite that lucky, but we eventually get there. Some are sadly not as fortunate.

So. I visualized myself alone. And it felt sad, but okay. I saw myself going through papers, sitting at the kitchen table, sorting through papers. I had piles, and I was calmly and methodically going through them. I visualized myself waking up alone, the deafening quiet. I saw myself talking out loud to make it not so oppressive. I talked out loud to the cat, fed her and got her fresh water. I fed the birds and poured my coffee. Packed my bag, woke the kids for school, and left for the gym. Worked out and showered and dressed for work. Spent my day pouring myself into my job. Doing it well. Staying late, but not too late. Getting home just when the kids get home. Preparing dinner. Eating by 5. Chatting over the meal. Clearing the table, straightening the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. I putter outside while the kids do their homework and get their time in on the computer. I come in and check my email, write eldest at college. The windows are open, the cool summer breeze drifts through. I take a cup of cherry KoolAid outside and sit by my waterfall. When it gets dark, candles are lit out there, or perhaps I light a fire. Eventually, I resigned myself with one of my loud sighs that it's time to put out the fire, and go that bed, our bed. I surround my body with pillows that don't really fool me into thinking he's there with me. I leave the television on all night because I can't bear the silence. I wake to hear HGTV, and I try to spend at least the first few moments of consciousness imagining that he is still there. And then I begin all over again. And so it goes.

And although the thought of being without MOTH is a very lonely and quiet and sad one, it doesn't scare me enough to imagine that I will find another person to be with. I already have him. Right now I have all of him. We're lucky enough that we already have great wonderful memories of adventures and conversations that weren't possible with anyone else. Someday, if I am unfortunate enough to outlive him, I will still have him in my heart and mind. And I will have his name. I know how he treasures that name, and I am honored to have it. There won't be room for anyone else. Ever.

Forever, MOTH. You told me forever. And I have already promised you the same. Here and beyond. Forever.


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