It's the waiting that's hardest. Waiting for death to take a body wracked by cancer. Waiting for that truck motor - which is dependent on the impending death. Waiting for the snow storm to end - which has dropped 16 inches while the winds continue to howl, tree limbs continue to break, and now the woodshed is leaning to the south.
The waiting had become a long, quiet time where we both retreat to our respective chairs and say nothing for hours. It's not a bad scene; just a strange scene. If we weren't accustomed to spending so much time with one another and seldom seeing anyone else, we'd probably go crazy.
I mentioned this to Sweetie tonight and he said, "When TSHTF and modern society comes to a screeching halt, we'll say, 'Welcome aboard!' " How true!
He hitched a ride to his sister's today to see his mom. When he returned he looked different so I asked if his mom had passed on. "No," he said. "She has the death rattle now." So maybe yet tonight ...
We walked next door to the pole barn so he could start the backhoe/loader to clean our driveways. I unlocked his mom's house and plugged in the frig and turned on the water heater. Probably this weekend, the place will be packed full of people again. Before shutting the door, I looked around the room and recalled the card games his mom and I had played at the dining table; the meals I fixed in that tiny kitchen; the times I had to adjust her remote control because she couldn't read the buttons; and all the times I complained about her having the volume up so high. I feel kind of stupid about that now.
It's sad to see a life end. It's kind of haunting too because as one ages you're reminded of how close to the end your life is.
I suppose this is a natural reaction. We rush around "taking care of business" while our lives slip away. We wait for the things we've attached importance to: a move to the country; Spring to arrive so you can plant the garden; the trip north to see your kids and grandkids; the SS deposit in the checking account; the Ebay auction to end; the MRI and CT scans and blood work to reveal the progression of your ailment; the bi-weekly phone call from your father; the chainsaw to be repaired; the leg cramps to stop so you can sleep; the anniversary of the day we met; the funny emails from your favorite grandchild; and back rub and a tender good night kiss.
And in amongst all those times you have moments of boredom, and restlessness, and questioning, and anger, and fear, and impatience, and love, and sorrow. And often you think the day the day will never end or the month is just dragging on. Then, if by magic, one day you realize several years have gone by. And you wonder how you could have been so restless while waiting...