Well, we headed to the BBF a little earlier than expected, on account of it sounded like a good idea. Still does. I figure we’ll be sick of the place before Christmas, however, so I’ll have to figure something out to do with myself.
Today’s been good, but I’m mighty tired from being up as late as I was last night.
yawn
Sadness has my voice low, and my throat choked up this morning. I wasn’t really expecting that, but I guess I’m not getting off as easily as I was led to believe last night.
I want to explain something about the sadness, its a hopeful sadness. I’m sad, but at the same time aware of The Beauty when it happens, aware of the 10 years with her, 10 perfect years, aware of how much she loved me and our family together, aware of how happy she was before she died.
I’m aware that her life could have been worse. Her death could have been worse.
I’m wondering today what her last words would have been, and thinking how fitting it was that it was me saying them for both of us. She explained during our wedding ceremony, when she recited the vows she came up with, the ones that made my heart rise and my body sway, that I’ve always been the talker. Its true, if theres a silent moment, it’d be me to fill it up. She was pretty introverted, and I always loved that about her. Evidently she liked my extroversion, or whatever its called, because she’d smile when I’d tell her how much I love her, and all that stuff about moving mountains and whatnot.
I’d kiss the back of her neck as I said it.
Ahh, sadness. Its OK. Sadness is a tribute to her, its refreshing. Today is the anniversary (monthiversary, whatever) of when her body died. 8:37 PM, if I recall correctly.
Or late at night, I guess.
Having good ol’ Nodbob around has gone a ways toward distracting me from the whole monthiversary thing. While I don’t think I’d have gotten bent out of shape over it, I still haven’t given myself much time to think. After I retreated to my bedroom tonight, I looked at the picture framed in her great big frame she had for years, of us at the renewal looking away, and thought.
My thinking often turns to where she is, which means this will wind up becoming a theological diatribe.
I know, with very, very little doubt (nothing is certain to me, really ever. Love (me, her, kids) is, but not much else) that she is extant in some way, because I’ve felt strong sensations of her, in ways that would make my subconscious very clever if these phenomena are self produced. I don’t think its that clever, myself. I’ve pretty much described them here, so I won’t do it now, suffice to say, I’m convinced.
If that is the case, I wonder what she’s experiencing it? I almost feel like theres an anchor in me thats in that other side, simply because of the enormous amount we were invested in each other. Thats a weird feeling, sometimes. It completely changes the way I think about death, because for years now, I’ve had a somewhat nihilistic view of death, not necessarily that its a final termination of self, but that theres no organization to the afterlife.
Don’t ask me to explain it at 2:30 in the morning.
Anyway, I don’t think that anymore. I’m sure that BJ has communicated peace to me, in that same way that I’m sure that she is here, or has been here recently. If she’s in peace, then that nihilistic view may be off.
Still though, I have a hard time with the whole milk and honey view of death, that theres an eternal reward of peace and harmony. Purgatorial principles make some sense, but only because I think that human beings have the whole idea of “justice” drilled into their head. By the same token, the idea of eternal damnation for doing bad things seems even more illogical.
Ahh, the problems with theological musing, because I hit this point, where I understand that logic has nothing to do with it, because I don’t think I can comprehend the logic used by God, or whatever you’d call the thing behind all of this. I think my agnosticism of my years with BJ was just a way out of working these questions up, just a philosophical throwing up of the hands, and saying “fuck it”. I don’t really want to do that anymore, because I feel a little like (and I know about the logical thinking of THIS) if I can get a handle on these questions, if I can figure out exactly what I think, or what makes sense, or even what I want to believe (because, deep down, belief is a choice) I’ll be closer to where she is.
I think, in some way, if I can follow that anchor line between me and where she is, I’ll have a glimpse at it. But I’d only want to see her.
Which means I don’t appear to be over Step 1: Denial yet, huh?
And is my cue to go to bed.
I sure love you, little ghost.