I am utterly stunned to witness his dying. It's like being pregnant and not being allowed to tell anyone. With cancer there is so much isolation. The world has the nerve to continue on as if nothing were happening while we move through this test tube of suffering together.
We are so ordinary in this space.
How many people pass their days, swimming in a pool of similar suffering, cast adrift with a secret they cannot share because other people are simply preoccupied with their ordinary lives?
Sometimes these little "anniversaries" bring up feelings I'd rather not feel, and then, I don't want to go into reverse. When the feelings come, I gotta dig deep to keep myself from making a U-turn. In recovery I've heard the saying "act as if" so that's what I did. I acted as if I were driving. I acted as if I didn't need to stuff my feelings. I acted as if I were a sane person driving home from a support group meeting. I made it home, not making phone calls, drinking, or stuffing my feelings with buckets of chocolate-covered, dirt-tasting cocoa nibs, and there is nothing ordinary about that.