The next plane

It's been pretty quiet & tense...distant...at our house recently. I have been sorta in a funk and burned out. H is scared as his VL is going up again. Dr. says not to worry, but H is also getting more forgetful and confused again....

So we were talking and he talks about how he's OK with dying, moving onto "the next plane of existence." He said, "I've had a good life, went to college, had some businesses...done things that I've wanted to do. Never got to Europe tho'. It's OK, I'm not afraid. I'm ready to accept what comes." There's a part of me that says I should just take leave from work and take him on a trip or two while he still can go; I don't think he can go, really.

I know that he is afraid, but I also know that he knows that it's time to move on. He's been in denial that he is really that sick for a long, long time now...a dear friend of ours talks about H "sticking his head in the sand." This is the first time where he's looked back at his life and talked about how it's been good. I'm glad that he's coming out of denial, but I'm a little nervous about what's coming next. And, mostly, I'm glad that he thinks of his life as having been good. I am worried about having regrets on my deathbed and I need to address that.

This morning while out in the garden, I had a rush of excitement and fear when I looked at the sun rise. The thought was: "someday soon I'll be out here and he won't be inside anymore when I go back into the house. It's my life now and I've got to figure it all out...without him." There is a sense of anticipation and my gut tells me that it's coming...soon...this year. I have to say that I'm feeling lighter than I have in many, many months, in spite of knowing that something will happen soon enough.

So both of us can feel something coming...he's trying to make peace where he can, wrap up things in some ways, and has a sense of urgency about living his life. I'm just waiting, knowing that soon enough I'll be on my own and I am both thrilled and terrified. At least I'll be alive. And the reality is that H isn't contributing much at all these days, in any respect. He's not wholly there...so what will be missing when he dies? Whatever is left of him now and I'll be missing his company.... But, I'll feel relief that finally this is all winding down and I can get on.

I can't imagine being in his shoes: so sick for so long, stuck at home since he can't drive anymore, many friends gone, those that are left are wonderful but not around that much, I'm only home a few minutes in the morning and then after work. And, while I do my best to be reasonable, I have to say that I'm less than present most of the time. I would find the isolation oppressive. Hell, I find my own isolation oppressive. I need to have some guilt-free fun.