I am not hopeless. I know we will make it through this mess. I am not sad. I am thankful, so very, very thankful for all that we do have. I don't even feel that overwhelmed. So many things have been taken care of.
My sister-in-law pointed out that I am greiving. She is right. I grieve for all that we have lost. I grieve for what has happened to Art, his hair loss, his weight loss and his self loss. I grieve for the effect that he has on friends who have not seen him for a while. I grieve for what this disease has changed in us. I grieve for the kids whose experiences will most likely not come out until they are sitting in a therapists office years from now. I grieve for the life that was supposed to be right here, right now. I grieve for loss of our patnership, frienship, lovership that has changed forever, most likely for the better but I still grieve. I grieve for the friends I have lost over this disease. I grieve for the immense pressure I feel to take care of myself, so I can take care of him. So today, instead of admiting grief, I walked around angry. It was easier.
Add to that the fear I have...and this case is not False Evidence Appearing Real, an acronym for fear. This is real. By the end of the week, Art will be sick with chemo. My weapons against this disease are my intense love and respect for this man, and my own inner strength. This week, I change. This week I mediate and hold visions of him, whole, in my mind. This week I work out, taking care of my body and my mind. This week I meet with a spiritual friend who can help me break through this wall and touch the power of Spirit. This week I have a cup of tea a day and sit and do nothing (Thank you Sue). And in every one of those moments I will take off the foil, the saran wrap and the ziplock and let the tears flow, cause fuck it, I only have me and Art to meet on other side, and I know we will look much, much better when we get there.