Widower and Other Notes

A few months before mom died, I was sitting in the den and could hear my father talking to the hospice counselor.  As a lawyer, he was saying, he saw how the spouse who is left behind very often follows soon after, bereft of a will to live. 

Now, it’s strange to think that for so many years mom felt as though he were ignoring her; he seems always to be waiting now for her to say something, as though her voice were the linchpin of his existence. 

I’ve never seen him so vulnerable.

In other news, I’m keeping myself from feeling too much by reading.  I’m in awe of Robertson Davies less and less with each page of Val Ross’s excellent portrait of him; but I understand him more, and relate to him more.  It’s a good read.

The Book of Otter: Language & Memory

“If we spoke a different language, we would perceive a somewhat different world.” —Ludwig Wittgenstein 

I wish I could write one memory precisely as I see it so nobody could ever hope to misunderstand it.  I wish I had not, many years ago, dropped my copy of Paul Ricouer’s best book in a swimming pool.

I’m thinking of forgetfulness lately, and re-remembrance.  So many decisions these days have hinged on remembering the past a certain way, and knowing that if that memory is wrong then life is a devastating lie. 

The Israeli’s and the Palestinians have so much to forget, or rather to remember the same way, before they settle themselves.  So do I.

There are places of forgetfulness, where the self melts down.

When it comes back together, strange and fresh, there’s no way of speaking.

Noli me tangere, Jesus said on rising from the dead.  Don’t touch me.   Some deaths are just too total to permit it.

Sleeping With Death: How to Watch Someone Die

From the Mailbag:

My father’s got cancer and will be put into palliative care.  What can I expect?   I expect lots of changes, but I have no idea what they will be.

Those who superintend deaths are a kind of family in this strangely anti-death culture we’ve created. Unless you’ve done it, it’s hard to understand how it affects you. Welcome to the family.

When my mother took her final downturn in November, several things happened to my dad and me, things that had lasting impacts for how we would process grief.

The worst part will be that you are not what the patient needs. The patient needs death. And this can destroy a weak person as they feel an old relationship changing and slipping away…

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Book of Otter: On Coping With Grief

Note To Self:

Remember what gets you into the deep messes:

Trying to fight back against pain.

I see you reaching for the antidotes, tried and true.

Put them back.  Just be quiet a while, if you can, and remember what Merlin said to young Arthur: “The best thing for being sad…. is to learn something.”* Just feel your way through.  Swallow it down.

It won’t be long now.

* T.H. White, The Once And Future King.  Can one be a little boy without reading it?  I guess so, technically…

Wild Thing: The Rule of Love

But love isn’t something that comes and finds you.  It’s something you become…

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Grief

I have Christian friends who insist that death is not an occasion for grief because nothing is lost in God.  I have atheist friends who insist the same thing but for the opposite reason, because no form is substantial in nature.

My answer to both is of two syllables, beginning and ending with fricatives.

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May 1943-January 2012

The process of dying, and going through that process with somebody you love, changes you. 

I mean apart from the thirty extra pounds it put on me because of the tightened schedule, the lack of free time, the strange eating habits, and the worry.

When death finally comes, it’s a bit of a relief. 

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The Last Christmas

Some reflections on love, death, and dying at Christmas.

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Ideola: Hold Back

There's something about grief that feels like somebody's been kicking me in the head all day.

Losing myself between sleep, Wodehouse, and Mark Heard.

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