i woke up, startled

surprised by reality

and what didn't change.

I had a dream last night.  It was odd - and followed a strange sort of mental path for me.  It started out in an auditorium.  I was talking to a male coworker and he made reference to me sleeping with another male coworker.  I was surprised - quite taken aback - as the person he made reference to is not someone I would even consider sleeping with.  He then went on to say someone else had collaborated the story but that he wasn't judging me because I'm not really a wife anymore.

I was livid, and left.  I know I did something while I was gone but the fog of the dream prevents me from remembering.  I remember I was upset.

And then Mike called, also upset.  Mike is a friend from high school that I've fallen out with - he's a cop and I'm pretty left-leaning and support defunding and this has resulted in us not even being facebook friends anymore.  In my dream, the house he grew up in was being demolished and he wanted someone from his time there to be with him while he visited once more.  In my dream he was as I remember him when we were  younger, and not the alt-right cop-asshole he is now.  

I returned to the auditorium to tell my team mates I was bouncing.  The coworker I was talking to before asked if he could speak to me and we exchanged words.  I'm not being coy, I just don't remember what they were.  I feel like he knew he insulted me and repeated something without thinking.  I feel like I told him that his attitude about my marriage was out of line.  I left, to hang out with Mike.

We sat in the court of townhouses being torn down, reminising.  In reality, it looked more like where I spent a year in grade 11 than where he grew up.  It was good to be with someone who knew me when I was younger.  

An interesting dream.  I woke up confused, wondering if any of those conversations were rooted in real ones.  I wondered what my brain was working out that I couldn't quite comprehend.  I wondered if this is just more grief, wrestling through what I believe.  Often, when I'm upset, my thoughts turn to Mike - our friendship was meaningful; he helped me understand I was worth loving.  It could just be a stress response, adding him to my dream.  The coworker thing is weird - my retelling could not really outline the strangeness of it.  Does it represent how I see my life changing as a widow or near widow?  Does it foreshadow a time where I won't have the comfort of knowing I'm a "wife".    

It all feels surreal, now, as I ready myself for work.  

 grief, as a person:

enters your home, unaware

refuses to leave

Thoughts on grief:  I thought I would grieve Bob, and my marriage, after he died. Turns out, grief is slow and has its own timeline.  

I haven't written much - as I walk during this pandemic and have time to process all the stuff going on in my brain, I've realized I'm grieving.  Grieving the fun, pleasant man I used to be married to.  Grieving the fun, fullfilling marriage I used to be in.  And without a death, I'm grieving alone.  There is no funeral or dirge, friends with casseroles, or kind words from old acquaintences - instead it is a lonely process one walks by herself.

Saturday evening, I sat in the backyard, throwing the ball for the dogs, over and over again, the late summer's sun still warm, and the breeze mounting.  I thought about all the summers spent here, and how I've known this man for 20 years.  How challenging the last year has been.  The grief I carry as I plan my life, with or without him, alone.  

I moved into the other bedroom this summer.  It gives more room for his PSWs to work with him in the mornings, and me flexibility to get dressed without them in my space.  It allows for better sleep -  he snores (weirdly, likely a new symptom related to his swallowing) and is incontinent.  He calls for me when he needs me - so I still don't sleep through, but I sleep better.  Transitioning, I think of it, to widowhood.

I wish his brain hadn't changed.  That the loving, fun man would emerge and save me from the manic, argumentative person I currently live with.   He's desperate, I tell myself, to eek out any semblance of normality as MS strips his life away.  I am the one he can blame - not the disease, not God - it's me, standing here explaining reality and trying my best to navigate our loss, that he picks on.  

I busy myself with yard work, cooking, and baking bread.  I buy shoes in funky colours and ready myself for hibernation.  I laugh, out in the sun, music reminding me of high school friends long forgotten, as I shovel load after load of mulch.  I schedule walks with friends and pretend my life is like theirs.  

I'm trying not to miss him while he's still here - and not be angry that he is fading away - but I never quite succeed at that.  Hollowed out hope, is what this feels like.  Some days are better than others.  We've been having a couple bad days.