Sunday, March 27, 2011

Death on the Brain...

We got back from our trip to Bingen, (and Breitenbush) a couple of days ago...the bags filled with our belongings are still on the floor in the basement where I left them as I was unloading the car...the dishes, coats, toys have been just sitting where they were last left...Finally, tonight, I spent about 1/2 hour cleaning up...didn't take long...(the bags though, are still untouched)...All I have been doing for the past 2 days has been knitting and playing with Owen. That's about it.

I will admit that I think more about my death since Joe died...I believe this is completely logical...but today, I felt a pang of danger...I felt my heart skip around...and I had this momentary gasp for air...as I was knitting on the couch...it happened a few times...and all I could think about was. 1.)Am I going to die today...and 2.) Is this what Joe felt that morning?

You see...there is no one else here that I have to talk to about this...so I just sit with my thoughts, (both the rational ones and the irrational ones)...and try to make sense of things...and get a fucking grip.

As I was tucking Owen to bed, I tried as casually as possible to mention to him the procedure should he find me unconscious one day...it's a hard conversation to have with a 5 and 1/2 year old...it sucked but I felt it was necessary...he now knows to dial 911 and/or to go to our neighbors home for help. He understandably wanted an additional 10 minutes of snuggling time, and even asked me to just go to sleep right then and there with him...I tried to make the conversation as "matter of fact" as possible, and even suggested to him that we have a fire drill tomorrow..

You know what terrifies me the most about dying now? It's just how fucking shitty it would be for Owen...I am just now getting to the point where I can't remember Joe's facial expression when he died...and I don't want a similar image of me burned into Owen's memory...it's just too painful.

Alas, I really don't think I have a heart issue...I just really hate not knowing when I'm going to die...I want to be prepared...this randomness is just so fucking unsettling.

9 comments:

Jody Stirpe said...

so sorry A <3

Julie said...

I am at a loss for words (shocking, I know). So sorry you have to go through all these scary thoughts and feelings. Love & hugs.

Sally Conrad said...

You are through the looking glass Amalia. Before Joe's death you probably never thought much about when you would die but you certainly can't help but be aware of this and more now. All I can say is try to see and embrace the beauty this kind of rarified living brings to your relationships. That is my wish for you with Owen.

Susanne said...

*sigh* lots of love to you and o. thank you for sharing. really, i mean it. xoxoxoxo

Suzanne said...

wow, i spelled my own name wrong. :/ that was suzaroo, fyi. *squish*

Harvard to Homemaker said...

Oy A. Randomness scares the crap out of me and I haven't been through all you have. Wish I had something comforting to say but all I've got is I get it...

Vicki Singleton said...

A, so many thoughts to navigate through on our journey through this world. I love your spirit and all that you are.

Librarian Man said...

So wish I could help carry more of this weight for you... Death is such a weird mix of the inevitable and the unknown. Knowing that it is absolutely going to happen but then having no other details to go along with that certainty is a uniquely human place to be.

I've had some of the same thoughts about the timing of death, though obviously not as pointed and real as yours... more like fuzzy images that lurk just out of sight and when I try to focus on them they evaporate.

My wish for me own death (and for everyone else too, I guess) is to be able to go saying "Yes." To not fight it. To be able to enter in to it with some degree of awe and even, maybe, excitement. So... when I do think about death, I often ask myself what it is that I am doing to prepare myself to go peaceably at a moment's notice.

And the answer is usually "Uhhh...."

shelly said...

you are by no means alone in dealing with these thoughts. having a child is one of the most perilous acts of being human. all parents walk the wire, as yours did when they had you.