a better responder, a better listener, a better parent, a better observer, a better partner, a better... you fill in the blank.
It's a momentous day for me; 11 months ago Russ died, leaving me alone with his memory. I lived with him more than half my life and we were the kind of couple who drew breath from one another; the kind of couple upon waking and seeing the other, knew the day would be better for it. Of course I miss him every day and waking without seeing him makes the day begin with an ache, like a weevil burrowing in and making my heart feel shrouded in a shadow.
But in my mind I hear him tell me to connect with friends, find something to be
grateful for every day, be honest even when it's painful, remember that everything
doesn't have to get done today... it will be there tomorrow, be a better listener than fixer, and that there is always some part of your day that could be altered. He led by example more than deep conversations.
So today, when I woke to the difficult news of an infant neighbor suffering from RSV and was put on oxygen and the sister-in-law of another neighbor being airlifted to Denver and getting the diagnosis of Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. I had to rethink my own sorrow in the day and think about 'better'. What could that look like? How could I rethink my sorrow? To start with, I could be grateful that Russ no longer suffers. Every minute of his day was built around strategies because of the Parkinson's and that too is in the past. I could focus on the fact that our early days of diagnosis were so long ago the fear is muted.
Both my neighbor families are in the horror of newness, of medical decisions and trying to focus on what questions need to be asked.