I woke up this morning to the brightest sunshine streaming into my bedroom. It was so blinding and intense for my little white NW self that for a moment I thought, “OMG, it is the second coming! Maybe that guy was right. Is this the 21st?” I rolled over and Jeff was gone. Yep. I knew that would happen – the saints go first right? ****. Damn him for leaving me here!!
Then I heard him downstairs fumbling with the dishes. I sat up and took a deep breath. We were all still here. Oh well. Maybe on Saturday? I can make it three more days. It would be good to see American Idol results before I go. I should probably get my hair cut, professionally straightened and have my legs waxed. After all I have no idea what the whole “product” situation is in heaven.
Strange and sad how one shot of sunshine here could elicit so much drama and hope. That is how brutal this winter has been.
I had the privilege of hearing one of my favorite authors speak awhile back. She asked people what they would do with their life if they only had 3 ½ days left. She said things would become very clear. Instantaneously your priorities would align (see mine above – TV and hair). That is one of the only good parts of cancer. Things are immediately clear: life, death and whom you want to be with.
Oh how I wish my time was today or that I only had 3 ½ days until I saw Ben again. When I think upon the years and years of life, of events, of holidays and more without him – it is, as my pastor Dave said once, “an invitation to despair.” But what if I reverse the question? What if I only had to live here for 3 ½ more days? 3 ½ days seems manageable to me. Sixty years does not.
I’m guessing the 21st will come and go without much thought, after all the same man predicted this in 1994 and we’re all still here. Luckily I have used that time to improve my hair. Judgment Day in the 90’s would have been an extremely unfortunate period for me to be placed in eternity. I highly doubt the world will end with the Mayan Calendar either. But nonetheless, the sunshine this morning made me grateful. Spring may come after all. I am looking forward to more sunny clear days here in Seattle. Somehow I feel closer to Ben when I can see the mountains, moon and blue sky. It is as if in moments heaven isn’t so far away. That he is just beyond my reach – just on the other side. But spring has a funny way of cheating back to winter. It teases you. Just like the cycles of grief.
In the meantime, at least the Bachelorette starts on Monday. Assuming we are all still here of course.