It’s over now. Fossil Guy has passed away, a beautiful memorial service took place yesterday, Bookworm’s stepchildren will be going back to their own homes today. Today we will watch the Superbowl. I washed clothes this morning. Tomorrow I will vacuum the floor. I expect Bookworm will start seeing clients again. Life is going on. We are picking up where we left off a year ago. A year ago it seemed as if life would never be the same again, and though it isn’t the “same”, because FG isn’t in it anymore, we will all create a new “same”, a life without him. We are still alive and we will go on living.
Yesterday, on the way to Bookworm’s house after the service, my Mom, sitting in the back seat with Bookworm, said, “Now the hard part begins”. But I don’t think that’s true. I don’t think she realizes just how hard this past year has been. From the moment FG was diagnosed there was the certainty of his death looming and all who loved him put their lives on hold, their full happiness on hold. In my house, any time my mate would say, “It’s going to be a great year!” I’d have to remind him that FG was going to die this year, so “great” was not a word I could use. I know BW found much joy in her last year with FG, but there was still the dark specter of death in his cough, in his chemo, in his growing weakness. It couldn’t be ignored.
I am thankful that after I retired at the end of August I was able to visit weekly and then more often as the days grew short. I don’t want to imagine how I would have felt if I’d been working and wouldn’t have had the energy and will to visit as often. I am also thankful that the last days were not as bad as predicted by the nurses. It could be that somehow Fossil Guy willed himself to be clear until the end and to die before he was vulnerable to the point of total helplessness. He relied on us, but he was in control. He could still hold his water cup, he could still sip from it. With help, he could reach the bathroom or a chair. There was no humiliation. That is probably what I feared the most, having experienced it with my Dad.
I don’t think it will be “the hard part” for Bookworm because she is so strong, resilient as the silly putty she often kneads in her hands. Any woman who can live through what her son has given her to endure can live after this. She is from hardy stock, feisty, buoyant people. And she has scores of friends who love her. That counts. I’m not saying it’s going to be a cakewalk. FG was so special that he will never be replaced, but he “saved” her life, as she says, and she doesn’t need saving anymore.
So life goes on. It’s one of the most used cliché’s there is, but cliché’s are born and flourish because they are true. Life will go on and we’d best make the most of it. Who can ever know when the death sentence will be written for us?
