2.04am. Night owl these days! (Always my tendency.) If Andrew was alive here with me, he'd be trying to persuade me to get some sleep.
I liked the bed to myself when I knew he was in the world and would come home soon. Not so good now it's a solitary bed forevermore. But then, I think how awful it would be if he were permanently in the nursing home, missing me every night and me him, not able to be together, so near and yet so far. How awful it was when we thought he'd be permanently there, in horrible Nursing Home 1 — yet quite nice when he was just having a little holiday in lovely Nursing Home 2.
This is certainly better than his existing like that, and me watching him deteriorate gradually. He did it so much better for me, bless him, and for himself, by dying when he did. He is having such fun now, I know, and doing important work — but I can't keep up with that; still releasing the unshed tears of the difficult times we've recently been through. And I must live my life on the physical plane much longer, I believe. Which is what I want, and chose (as a soul coming in). I think it would have been great if he could have stayed with me, in health and clarity — but that was not his journey. And indeed, I do believe this part of mine is about being with myself, looking after myself, and so on.
When my psychic friend S predicted there'll be a male companion for me, it brought me to instant tears, only slightly assuaged when she made it clear, not a lover. I don't want another man.
I've outlived three husbands and a couple of lovers. I don't want that any more. And I sure as hell don't want to be nursing anyone again! Not ever.
I would imagine care giving is so very hard; I can see why you would not want to travel that road again; time for someone to take care of you I do believe!
ReplyDeletebetty
A nice thought, Betty, but fortunately I don't need that level of care yet! (And when/if I ever do, would not wish to inflict it on anyone but a professional ... or team of professionals.) The care I gave Andrew was very loving and willing, as he would have done for me, and did do as far as he was able — but that was after 20 years of intimacy. It would be different with anyone new.
ReplyDeleteOh, Rosemary. You are such a strong soul. *hugs* A companion would be nice, but do not rush things as in companionship (not intimacy). First, take care of you and take all the time you need to heal first. Then enjoy life little by little. For me, I feel so inadequate about giving words of comfort for anyone wiser than me as I feel like I'm a "baby" to those I meet, but at the same time, I feel like I have walked in all ages of life working with patients and being there for them and at the same time experiencing deaths in my own extended family and friends. It never gets any easier, and I feel like I grieve longer than most people. However, I've learned that it's okay to not rush things and take your time.
ReplyDeleteBlessings to you, dear Rosemary. *hugs*
I think your words are wise, and also loving. I appreciate them! You are right; I must go at my own pace. What that is I don't exactly know, but I rediscover it day by day. xxx
DeleteI can't imagine a harder job (physically and mentally) than a caregiver. It takes a very special person, indeed, to be able to do it.
ReplyDelete~Margaret
It's an impossible job, really. It's so demanding that no-one could provide all that is required — even with the support services which we had. The practical stuff must take priority, and the awful irony is that it's only now he's gone that I have time to put in place various little things for making life pleasanter, which he too would have enjoyed. I have to keep reminding myself, 'It's OK, he doesn't need it now.'
DeleteI don't think I'm that special a person. I think what it takes is great love, and that we had for each other. It makes it all worth it. It took a huge toll on me all the same, which I am only now fully realising.
I greatly appreciate your clarity and ease with where you are right here and now~ Beautiful to witness.
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