Isn’t that a book? Regardless… I know I talk a lot about death. The whole concept freaks me out as much as I am at home with it. I know it’s inevitable. I know as soon as we are born we are living on borrowed time. We don’t win this great race, not really. Our reward at the end is death.
I like to consider myself a strong individual. I am capable of living on my own (although I prefer not to). I am capable of looking after myself as well as taking care of others.
So why does the thought of losing my partner, my literal other half, scare me so much? I can’t imagine life without him. Last month I had nightmares that he was dead or dying and I had to manage without him. Realistic dreams of how would I handle the kids and where would our needed income come from and how would I even function without shutting down and not functioning. Michael told me I cuddled up to him that night and just held on.
I posted to FaceBook today that Michael told me he could not promise not to die as that would mean he would have to break a promise to me some day. Sweet in the telling but not so sweet in the facts.
This whole line of thought came about because his aunt on his mothers side was hospitalized yesterday for one thing and wound up having some heart complications on top of that. Michael mentioned to me that his grandfather died at 60(ish?) due to heart complications. He was a big man (6’7″?) and the weight to go with it and it was just too much on his heart in the end. It makes me look at Michael, a big man himself, and throws me into a whirlwind. We need to eat better. We need to exercise. I’m going to make him live forever, because for all of my knowledge that death comes for us all, I am still convinced I am going to live forever, and how can I do that without him? 60 for him is only 20 years from now.
I see my father, who lost his wife well before 60, and I wonder if one day I will be in the same position. Will my children come home to me? Will I have friends to surround myself with? Will I look down every day and see his art all over me and wish he was still here and wonder what I could have done to keep him here?
And then I shake my head and I remind myself that he is still here and 60 is a long way off and I will, in fact, make us live forever. And if I can’t, I can at least make it seem like it.
