Thursday, November 11, 2010 —Three month anniversary

Yes, it has been three months since Skip died. One minute that seems like an instant and at other times it seems a hazy long time. I'm actually so glad to retreat into making a blog entry at times like this. I have no idea if only a few or more people are actually reading it, but the writing is a comforting exercise for me. And actually, it will some day provide me with a running chronicle of this strange period in my life. I often start out to say one thing and something entirely different pours out. As some say: "go figure." It doesn't happen every time, but often enough for me to notice it. Usually when I sit down to write a newsletter or public service announcement or the like, I have a purpose that is compelling enough to keep me on the straight and narrow. It needs to tell what, when, where, why, how, etc. I've never been to see a therapist, but from the descriptions I've read about that experience, it's not too much of a stretch to conclude there may be some similarities to sitting down and letting the blog screen be my listener. Poor reader sometimes, eh? I also don't happen to read other blogs very often. So I don't have much basis for comparison. It is probably true that if I'm particularly lonely or high or low, I might tend to seek out the blog spot more readily. In today's case, however, I've had good phone conversations with friends and a pleasant phone visit with Chuck. And yet here I am. I think this anniversary is causing me to want to commit to the written page.

There seems to be a deep seated desire in humans to mark or commemorate anniversaries of all types. Actually, I've noticed for years that people do go through that process. But that was before. Now is completely different .... for me. In a subconscious way, I get it now. Why do we have to go through such wrenching experiences to see the light? That's a silly question. Since I've taken it upon myself to describe my thoughts and experiences from the time Skip entered the hospital, I feel a responsibility to explore all my inner reactions more deeply and I'm certainly doing it more publicly than I would ever have imagined. Part of me is still a very private person and so this surprises me and points to the ever present duality that humans are always experiencing with each act they perform. Fifteen years ago, I could hardly remember how to turn the computer off and on. Yet here I am, recording all these private thoughts and then sending them out to you and who knows who else. Is this why people who write sit down each day and just do it? It's like the artist's in my circle who say they do what they do because they "have to." So here I am, commemorating. Maybe I just have to. I hope you're right Patty, that Skip is really where "it is amazing!" Perhaps that will help him to be more tolerant of my electronic ramblings.