For many years, one of our lesbian neighbors has been having a large, very large garden party in July. Lots and lots of people attend. And for the past several years, I haven't gone.
It isn't the people or the venue, it's me: I just can't deal with seeing all those happy, healthy-looking passionate gay couples there (same reason I don't like Pride) and I'm tired of all the conversation around H's health.
Mostly, I am just tired of being the sick guy's partner.
So, this weekend I thought that I would just plan to go to the party…just plan to go for the first time in at least a few years.
Slept in on Saturday. Took a nap later. Good. Putz'd in the garden. Seems OK.
But by 4:30, I was a heaving, sobbing mess. And I continued to be a mess all evening. Even Sunday was a very emotional day. And I'm still verklempt here in the office on Monday morning.
While I'm trying very hard just to accept my lot and make the best of it, I really struggle with situations like this.
Poor H doesn't understand. For him, me not being there highlights HIS loss. For me, being there highlights MY loss.
H just thinks that I want him to die. What he doesn't seem to get is that our situation is what it is because he IS dying.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
3 comments:
You know, if the idea of wanting him to die has crossed your mind, that would be okay. And normal. Give yourself some grace.
I agree with y|o|y. There are many times in our life that we "want" someone to just die or disappear. When our mother wouldn't let us go outside and play other kids; when our boss gave us heck for things we didn't do; when we are so frustrated with someone but we couldn't help him.
It's okay, it's really okay. *hug*
*hugz*
I know what you are thinking. My thoughts are with you.. This prolonged journey is having a toll on you.
You are doing the honorable thing, at a great cost to you. I have a lot of respet for that.
Post a Comment