Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Mourning—Almost Three Years Later: Absence


 “Curmudge, you are definitely in a black mood today.  Please explain.”

“Although we didn’t name the series of postings at the time, Julie, today’s discussion is the fifth installment of our series on Dying, Death, Grieving, and Mourning.  The first two, Way to Go and Way to Go 2 were posted right after Mrs. Curmudgeon’s death, and the third, The Old Men’s Table, was posted three months later.  The fourth, The Almost-Invisible Emotion, was written two years ago but not posted until last week.  So this week’s posting, Absence, should be the fifth and—hopefully—the last.  Unlike most of our discussions, these sessions are not fun, but they are good therapy.”

“Shall we start with the question that most people ask you, ‘How are you doing?’”

“And my usual reply is ’not bad’ or ‘okay.’  And then I add ‘there’s no such thing as good.’  I suspect that no widow or widower truly feels that they are living ‘the good life.’  However, each person may have his or her reason for feeling that way.  There might be people out there who jump for joy, but I don’t see any of them where I live.  In fact, most of my neighbors probably can’t jump for any reason.”

“Last week (actually two years ago), Curmudge, we ended with your planning to celebrate the joys that you and Mrs. Curmudgeon shared together.  How did that work out?”

“Not bad, Julie.  It was a pleasure to recall the things we did on our trips to Europe, but I never want to go back, especially alone.”

“Why not?”

“It would never be the same.  A castle would just be a pile of stone, not an experience.  It’s one of those things that one can’t appreciate until you have been there with someone you love.”

“Wow, Curmudge!  I wonder if I can talk my couch potato husband into taking a trip to Europe.  So what about those years when your job required you to live in the Northwest for a month at a time?”

“It was not the good life, Julie, but I felt her presence from 2,000 miles way.  I always knew the number of days and hours until I could return to Wisconsin.  And I could enjoy the views of the Columbia Gorge for her because I knew I would share them with her on her next visit to the West.”

“I’m sure that you appreciated being transferred back home, Old Guy.”

“To say the least.  Then I could sense her presence when she was a mile away at work, playing the piano in the living room, or reading a book upstairs.  It must be something that develops in the deep recesses of one’s mind during 50 years of marriage.”

“And finally, as the doc pronounced in the ICU, ‘she’s gone.’ “

“Right as usual, Julie.  Yet my sense of her presence did not die with her.  During the subsequent year that I lived in our house, she was everywhere.  Almost everything in the house was in some way hers, and I sensed her presence—almost as a ghost—everywhere.  So I sold the house, complete with a ghost who wasn’t in the contract.”

“I certainly hope the new owners don’t hear someone playing the piano in the middle of the night.  Well, Curmudge, how is it now that you live in an apartment in the old folks home?”

“Once again, Young Lady, I must remind you that it’s not an old folks home.  The apartment is quite adequate, very quiet, and I get lots of writing done.  There is no ghost in residence, but I sense Mrs. Curmudgeon’s absence.  The presence feeling in the back of my mind has been replaced by an abject emptiness occupied only by memories.  And it may be here to stay.”

“But you attend shows and other events with your friends.  Don’t they help?”

“They are wonderful therapy and they drive mourning right up into the theater’s fly space for the whole day.  But when I get home, absence is waiting.  It’s no big deal; it may be living in most of the other apartments in my building.”

“We both know, Old Guy, that our discussions usually end with a lesson.  What is it for today?”

“It should be obvious, Julie.  Death is a part of life.  We can accept it as inevitable, but that doesn’t mean that we have to get comfortable with it.”

Kaizen Curmudgeon

Link to posting from blog archives: Patient Safety—Infections 2 2/05/09
http://kaizencurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2009/02/patient-safety-infections-2.html

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