I realized today that I vacillate between complete numbness and exquisite pain. At times the pain is so real that it feels physical, not just emotional. It seems like a movie is playing over and over in my head. Mom has told me countless times that when I was born Jim was so excited and that he used to come home from school and ask, excitedly, "Is Cyndi awake? Can I wake her up?" In some ways I think that his excitement never waned. He was always so eager to give me advice, even if,.....ahem.......some of it was unwanted. A couple of weeks ago I said to my husband,"who is going to give me all that advice now?!"
I realize that none of this is articulate. I think I have lost that ability at the moment. It seems like all I can say is that this hurts, it's wrong and I'm sad. In real life, I say nothing. I have no desire to engage in conversation. I keep hoping against hope that, sometime soon, someone will come and wake me up and say,"I'm so sorry, we were just playing a joke on you, Jim is fine!" Please, God, make that true! Please make him okay again. Please make him the argumentative, conspiracy-theory-loving, cynical Jim we know and love.
Because, God, I can't breathe while he is dying.