Metronome

August 26, 2014

White hot searing empty.  The kids have gone.. The house is quiet.  And clean.  And meaningless.  He continues to not look at me.  He continues to act as though I am not there.  I am so sad and empty as the white hot searing empty of my house.  I sit with him at dinner, in the assisted living place we have now succumbed.  I make pleasant conversation with  the sweetest others--caregivers, families, inmates.  I cannot wait to leave.  My house is so empty.  The revolving door has slowed for a minute, so it should not be too bad.  The Vietnam wall is visiting in the park nearby.  I visited and could not stop crying.  All those young lives...gone..snuffed out...taken violently...row after row,  list after list...and on and on....the losses are turning my eyes into wet marshes of deep sorrow for what might have been, for what should have been.  For all of us.
and yet...
I went back to see him.  As I rubbed his chest gently, I leaned toward his face and said, "I love you".  He answered some social response like, thank you.  I kept gently stroking his chest and added, "and you have always loved me."  This time he kept those soft shoe button brown eyes on mine as he answered, clear as a bell, "That is the truth, and I always will."  He reached up and grabbed my chin, much as he reaches for real and imaginary things.  I exclaimed, "that's my chin!"  He quickly responded, "oh, sorry".  I leaned back into his face and asked, "do you know this face?"  His response was unintelligible.  I added, "do you like this face?"  He answered, again clear as a bell, "I LOVE this face!"
Treasures and tidbits....