I watched her husband spoon feed her pudding as she sat in front of the glass menagerie of birds and nests watching, though really lost in something else. She opened her mouth rhythmically when his hand produced a spoon and wrinkled finger, to wrinkled lips they danced- though not as before. What moved feet now were just careful maneuvers of the limbs. He understood her grumbles, or soft moans and wiped the corners of her mouth, or cheek and this went on for a few more minutes.
Most of them were alone in their rooms, some with the televisions on and some, starting blankly at open space. I had brought a group of kids to volunteer, we passed out cards and homemade cookies and I watched their faces as they viewed the fine art, of dying.
Some would say I’m pessimistic. That each individual was there to live, thrive- (as the brochure surely states.) One woman said it best when I asked her how she was doing. “My bed doesn’t fit, I don’t like to sleep alone.” Maybe she was a new resident, (which was the scenario I had worked out in my head,) instead of the chance that year after year, she responded the same way to a well-meaning question from someone not so lonely, or so it seemed.
Define loneliness. I reminded the kids on the way back to the car that it was all how each pair of eyes took it in. Lonely to one person, freedom to another. It’s strange that in leaving one behind we are able to move forward.
Last year- today, actually- Josh finalized our broken engagement. I have no good stories of binge drinking or drug paraphernalia. In fact: Mostly, the worst thing I did was claim I did… worse things. And in truth: I was quite alone. In larger truth: It was better than expected.
I’ve learned not to yell, (in the tiny breakups since,) even the emotional ones barely illicited more than a yawn and a shrug, (minus Breon- because that boy is crack to an addict.) And tonight? Hurt. It hurt mostly because the past week has made me somewhat of an emotional zombie- and I’m pretty full of feeling overworked, used and underfed. (Which will change quickly because currently beside me resides strawberry yogurt and Kix cereal. (The perfect anti-depressant.) More so, it hurt because I watched one of my very, good, friends, struggle and ultimately choose something that I wouldn’t have chosen myself. We argued politely, (yes, it does happen.) I watched him leave with his head down and my heart firmly planted on, “do the right thing, dude,” and basically: he just left.
Please don’t get me wrong: This journal could become very much of an, (insert baby cry here,) pain in the ass rant to everyone who’s ever decided it’s totally cool to move on, (because let’s face it: Survey says- I’m a retention fiend.) Luckily, I have my humor, (and my Kix,) and I don’t plan on victimizing my existence for googleadwords- because I’m thoughtful, and aspire to greatness. (Or just to get up in the morning without a regret-headache.)
I don’t even cry anymore- really. That door slams, or the phone clicks off and the biggest fights find themselves lost somewhere in my used-to-be-beige carpet. I find myself intoxicated with the very thought of what might come next.I eventually get up, pace.. come on here and the anger dissipates somewhere in between standing up and sitting back down.
I’m heading to Chicago for a few days on Thursday. I think part of the reason that I’m still awake is because amongst the manilla folders with various maps, coupons, confirmation codes and emergency transit schedules, I’m excited about doing it- for once, the lonely way. I’ve never rode a plane before by myself, or ‘got lost’ in another city. I was always brought somewhere, then just- dropped back at home. A vacation on my terms is every positive verb as well as a healthy dose of strange and lonely- especially given the fact that late, I’ve been thinking of heading back into relationship land, instead of, “standing my ground,” kingdom.
When I saw the old man’s hand gently reach his wife’s mouth- I couldn’t help but think: There are two ways to die. Either you go with the loved ones at your side, taking care of you and assuring you, or you watch everyone else around you disappear as you always find the strength and grace to muddle through, excelling at certain things you’d never dare to experience before. It’s freedom or loss- and at the moment, I’m not sure I can decide which is better.
