Yesterday was a good day. Today was a rough one even though it was a gorgeous day.
Daughter Karen and I went up to walk the river trail in Coon Rapids today, this after she'd already had her morning run. Turned out the Mississippi is high enough that my favorite part of that trail was a couple of feet under water. There is a back trail but it's not paved and it was a little squishy for a few hundred yards. No big deal. I need better shoes that don't leak. That trail is nicer when the trees are green. Still got my hour, about 3 miles. I dreaded the hill going in but actually found it less difficult than last year. I just need to pace myself, not try to keep up with young adults in marathon condition.
Karen will return to Denver on Monday evening. I've been anxious about how I'd cope with being alone all day every day forever after that. I don't feel ready for that. I was doing fine and coping happily living alone while Mary was in the rehab facility, even thought I thought I'd like an evening "off" a few times (but only did that once) but being alone now seems so very different. Mary's close friend Mary Jane said she had a similar experience: happily lived alone for 30 years, then lost her job and had to move in with her mom, then her mom died somewhat suddenly after just a few years (at age 90 something) and MJ was devastated by the loss.
MJ will stop by tomorrow afternoon to maybe glom some of "the McCann woman's" yarn. She can have all she wants. She was a special friend.
I'm sure my family has been telling me this repeatedly, but it finally penetrated my cranial rock today (while en route to Wal-Mart alone) that I need not be alone every day forever and damn me if I do that! I could spend some evenings and maybe even some overnights with Dave or Kev 'n Kelsy, return to my base during daytimes to do whatever I might do that day. In addition to local family, I have a few good friends in the area: Schnells, Carpenters, my good neighbors, etc for encounters like occasional activities or maybe just meals together at my place or theirs.
Things that seem obvious to most observers can be incomprehensible to an otherwise competent senior afflicted with nearly paralyzing grief. Everyone says that it's reasonable to expect that my dependency and frailty will diminish as time goes on. Finally starting to believe that doesn't diminish the pain but it helps a lot to dispell the terror. Only time can heal the pain. I've certainly healed before, but it's definitely harder to heal alone and/or when older.
I have little will to live except to defer the pain my eventual departure will cause family I love dearly, but I must try to heal for them. We all must depart eventually but they're not nearly done with me yet. From a purely selfish perspective, I could be done now. I've had a very good life after not expecting to live past age 24 back in the day. And wouldn't one gentle, melodious-voiced, courageous, cheerfully-game-to-the-last-hour M. K McCann be disgusted with me if I rolled over and died? "Seriously, Foreman?"
Ain't gonna happen. I've decided that my chosen method of self-destruction would be to resume smoking. They told me in 2008 that I'd be gone within a year if I did that. Drop dead heart attack. Not a bad way to go, other than stinking and seriously disappointing a bunch of family. I'm Dad, supposed to exemplify character and lead from in front. Some days are easier than others. I guess I was a good Dad because my family is amazingly on my six now. Writing about my experience is cathartic for me because the discipline of trying to write well helps me sort things out. Thanks to those who encourage me to do so WAY OFF TOPIC in this forum.