Journal: 04/18/06

I’m feeling a little disconnected, spacey maybe, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the nine beers I drank last night and the 3:30 AM bedtime. On the other hand, it could be that the unreality of the current reality is knocking at my door again. As the day at work wears on though, the feeling fades and the dull drabness of my job yanks me out of my torpor.

I made it to work today again and I keep thinking that so soon after Joann died, I should be really proud of myself for getting there. Today I restart my normal schedule behind the front desk, 1:00 PM to 10:00 PM, nine hours worth. I’m congratulating myself on the fact that I started out slow five days ago with short hours increasing every couple of days. I don’t think I could have made it if I had tried to work a full shift at the onset.

Tonight I’m going to try to get to bed earlier and drink less beer after I get home. That shouldn’t be a problem, with the longer hours comes shorter at-home time before bedtime. Less time to dwell on things.

Guilty Questions

Late at night, while I’m alone in the apartment winding down for bedtime, I replay the last three or four days before Joann died, when she was in a coma. I ask myself, "Is there anything I could have done that I didn’t?" Things like, should I have rolled her over more often, or did I give her enough wet mouth-swabs of water? Did I spend enough time with her? I know I religiously kept to the medication schedule set out by the VNA nurses because I have my handwritten log to prove it. I gave her swabs every time I remembered to do it, sometimes thinking I was giving her too many. When she developed that final-stage, characteristic fever, I kept cool washcloths on her forehead.

I know I did everything right and that Joann’s rapid decline after her stroke was irreversible, and it didn’t last long, thankfully for her, and me. But, sometimes late at night, I just wonder.

Letters to Dead People

Junk mail and missives from the medical community still keep arriving for Joann. If I need any blatant reminders that Joann isn’t here anymore, the Post Office will see to it. Yet another small detail in the transformation from married to widower that I never would have thought of before. There are many of these small things that keep cropping up in daily life and though disconcerting, I seem to be taking them in stride. As far as the mail is concerned, I expect to keep getting letters for Joann for a long time. It’s just part of the process and, in all fairness, I didn’t rush out and shout to the world that Joann is dead. I saved that for friends and family.

Shutting Off Joann’s Cell Phone

I shut down Joann’s cell phone today. Bill and I agreed that there was no real reason to keep it going, medically or otherwise. I find myself in this "unburdening" process more and more lately. Another minor detail, like Joann’s mail, that keeps cropping up with increasing frequency. All those tiny loose ends that have to be taken care of, each one driving the point home that Joann is no more than a memory. I did it without pain, just another task to do, like picking her clothes out of the dirty laundry because there isn’t any point in washing them. I haven’t got to the laundry yet though, I’ll let you know when I do.

Thieved Newspaper

I have to start going to bed at 1:00 AM instead of 3:00 AM or later, so I can get up earlier and get my newspaper. Living in a motel leaves the paper a target for any early or normal-rising guest, and some are simply opportunistic thieves. If the paper-person doesn’t toss the paper close enough to my door, I run a chance of losing my daily briefing of local events. As was her habit, Joann usually got up at 5:00 AM, she was an early riser, and picked up the paper soon after it was tossed. Because of my work schedule though, from 1:00 PM to 10:00 PM, I tend to sleep until 11:00 AM or so. This is not a good thing because it leaves the paper in plain view and occasionally I find it missing, as I did today.

Even though I can get all of the world, national and state news I want off several websites, I still like the feel of crisp paper in the morning and the local news with my coffee. The web still hasn’t mastered the local news scene the way it has with world and national.

The morning newspaper thing is just one of a myriad little adjustments I find myself making now that Joann is not here. I make the morning coffee now if I remember to, Bill has to boil eggs for my lunch, and I’ll have to adjust to fetching the morning paper. It’s tough fending for myself again.

Widower?

I was simply writing about Joann still getting mail, a normal enough event, when suddenly the word "widower" popped out. I have no idea why, maybe it was just the moment in time and my brain is trying to tell me something. I certainly have not once thought of myself in that light since Joann’s passing.

Widower? Widower? WIDOWER? WIDOWER? I’M A WIDOWER?

Talk about driving home the point. I guess something inside of me decided that it was time to move on to the next step, whatever that may be. I have never in my life thought of myself in that term, and no one else in the last twelve days thought to illuminate me. To everyone else I’m just plain old Scot. To ME I’m just plain old Scot, or I was until a few minutes ago.

I’m sure I will be testing this out as I blog along, so bear with me.

Widower. I’m a widower.