Being sick definitely makes it much easier to feel self-pity...I've been feeling horrible but had to look at another preschool and take Audrey to a class this morning. After being in for two days straight, I thought I'd give it a try but by the time we left the class, I had non-stop chills and felt miserable.
The town where we take the class is the same one I had my first job after college in. I drive right past the building where I worked to get there. Every time I do, I want to imagine it is 1999, pull into that parking lot and park my car, and head up the stairs where I'd sit in my orange cubicle and email a guy I'd just met named Daniel Cho. Even my coworkers knew I was completely in love by the smile I had on my face when I simply walked into work in the morning.
But Audrey's in the car now, and Dan is dead, I realize. Strange how time travel always seems possible for a second.
Also in this same town, we took one of our last family outings to buy Audrey new sneakers. We chose the sneakers and then went for frozen yogurt. I pass by both of these places as well.
As reality sinks further and further in, I find myself thinking very simplistic thoughts- in the car- "I am so upset about this," speaking about your death. So sad, and so upset- but a depth of sadness I did not know was possible.
People assume that I'll think life is more precious now that I've experienced the sudden death of my spouse, but it's really quite the opposite- not that I don't value it at all, but it seems much more temporary, able to be ripped away and disappear at any moment- so I wouldn't invest too much in it- at least in the societal norm sense. I'm not really sure yet what is worth investing in- loving people I think- even though they can disappear so wretchedly- loving seems important. But that's about it. Having a great time, or a comfortable life, or living your dream career-wise- these don't seem very important to me now.
On the way home I realize I have the windshield wipers on but it's very sunny. A sun shower, I explain to Audrey.
I think about how the prettiest things - well at least to me, in life- are often those that whisper about the contrast we see and experience here...the bittersweet- love and pain- sun and rain. The pairing feels like it's supposed to remind me of something...that these things coexist in the world seems otherworldly to me. As my windshield wipers wipe away the sunny rain drops, I think about this and