Today’s inspiration is drawn from Henley’s poem Invictus. As the first lines go:

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

I think that speaks for itself, especially after 10. It remains to be seen whether I’m unconquerable or not. I’m pretty tired at the moment, so we’ll see.

The word of the day is ‘experiment’.

I have experimented in many ways over the years. My own particular flavor of brain chemistry leads me to seek out novelty in a lot of areas of my life. I like trying new hobbies (Is there anyone reading this that remembers my Etsy shop and foray into craft shows for my jewelry business? Bonus points for anyone who comments the name of that business!) I like trying new food, I like going on trips and sleeping in new hotel beds. I like exploring bookstores and forests alike. But that was all complicated for Kellie, as her particular flavor of brain chemistry led her to seek out safety and peace and, sometimes, sameness.

I can’t tell you precisely how the two of us made that oppositeness work, and work really well. But it did, as I’ve already established, and it worked pretty great for three decades. But I can’t say that it’s easy to articulate just how my desire for difference and her desire for similarity in most areas of our lives could have possibly made us both so happy. I think the core lies in the fact that I preferred eating new things, but was fine to go with the same restaurant if that’s what she needed on a given day. She preferred to eat the same food, but was fine to be brave and try something different if that’s what I needed on a different day. I think that might be part of the secret, upon reflection. Because that’s how we approached a lot of areas of disagreement. Of course we argued, and of course we didn’t even get along about everything (especially when I was hangry). But it was about who needed something especially strongly at a given time, and that seesaw swung back and forth on a regular basis.

I don’t think there’s a chance of me ever encountering anybody who is as accommodating as Kellie was. We evolved into that back and forth rhythm over the years, and I just felt so comfortable that if I REALLY needed Chinese food or a trip to a new bookstore or a weird candy, she would be okay with that. And that much of the time, we’d be doing and eating comfortable and familiar things, especially when that was what she really needed on a given day.

But Kellie is gone. Or, if not exactly gone, not here in a corporeal sense. So today was a day for experimentation.

Before I get into that more deeply, here’s a rundown of today’s data points:

I got five hours and twenty-five minutes of sleep. Not my best, and certainly not my worst, night of sleep across the last week. I went to sleep pretty late because of picking my sister up from the airport late last night.
Coco slept in the bed with me a second time, for the entire night! She was so well-behaved and so adorable and really enjoyed the belly rubs whenever I woke up.
I saw my therapist for the first time since Kellie’s death. We’ve been chatting pretty regularly, but hadn’t had an actual session yet. You can pretty much guess how that went, I bet. She has been a really present source of support to me.
If you ever see the candy called “Squashies”, buy them and eat them. Thank me later.
A long-time mentor sent me a lovely set of wind chimes, and so my dad hung them next to the front door. It has given me a great deal of joy to hear them periodically throughout each day and night, since every time that happens I intentionally think happy thoughts about Kellie.
My new un-chewed-upon glasses are supposed to be available for me on Thursday. Stay tuned for the dramatic reveal.
I thought I had gotten a card in the mail, and got excited until I saw that it was an ad for Omaha Steaks. No, please don’t think you owe me a card. Or Omaha Steaks. At this point, I don’t have a clue where I’d put them, and would probably end up with steak poisoning or something.
A person who’s really special to both Kellie and I got some enormous health news today, and I wanted to let them know (again) how happy that made me. There are good things in the world in addition to all the darkness, and your text reminded me of that. Thank you.
An incredible person keeps trying to give me a massive DoorDash gift certificate, even though DoorDash does not want to apply the balance to my account as of this writing. I appreciate the thought and the effort anyway, though!
My sister-in-law visited today, and we had a really nice time.
So did yet ANOTHER friend, and it was just as great as it has been every time they’ve come since this happened.
Kellie’s obituary went live today. If you haven’t seen it, please check it out. A lot of work went into writing it, because it’s so incredibly hard to encapsulate someone as incredible as Kellie in a few short sentences. You might think I’m a great writer (I’m really not), but Kellie was the obituary writer in the family. She produced bangers every single time, with just editing help from me. So the responsibility of writing this without just supporting her as she did it for me was a tall order. https://www.ducro.com/obituaries/Kellie-Renee-Butler?obId=48199587
Before I forget, her calling hours will be 1-3:30 on Saturday, May 23rd. Her celebration of life will be from 3:30-4:30 that same day. Just so you’re aware.

So, some experiments!

A dear friend brought me a fish sandwich. This is a very brave experiment for me because I have literally never eaten any non-tuna fish food items for my entire adult life, due to Kellie’s dislike of fish. The fish tasted great, by the way. And so did the tartar sauce, which was a sub-experiment.
Another friend brought me a pineapple matcha smoothie all the way from Jefferson, unprompted. This wasn’t an experiment in eating something, since I already knew how much I loved that particular item. But it WAS an experiment in accepting an unprompted gift of love from someone without being uncomfortable. And I was able to take it, enjoy it, and not feel at all bad that they’d taken time out of their day to try and make me feel happy for a minute.
I had a conversation with my dad and sister that involved me being vulnerable and honest about having a hard time this afternoon. They took my discomfort and tears and other feelings into account and it ended up feeling really good to me (and hopefully to them as well). Three cheers for honesty and vulnerability, even if both feel excruciating sometimes.
I let someone else teach my classes last night and also tonight. Giving up that degree of control over what my students learn is very difficult for me to do.
I’m experimenting with letting someone else clean my mess. We’ll see how that goes and whether my discomfort at that state of affairs ever goes away.
In a truly bizarre moment, I spent some time flossing my teeth in my living room, along with three others who were also simultaneously flossing. Talk about sentences I never thought I would type.
Yet another friend is doing some of my final grading for the semester, which is a whole new level of control for me to surrender. So much surrendering, so much discomfort.

Experiments are great, and also very scary. Onward to tomorrow, which officially marks one week since Kellie’s death. I am not relishing the one-week anniversary, believe me. If you think of me in the vicinity of 4:15pm tomorrow afternoon, please send me positive thoughts. I will likely not be doing well at that point.

I would also like to be clear about something: None of you owe me, or Kellie’s family, or anybody else any particular reaction or response to her death. All of us are going to react and respond in a huge variety of ways to such an earth-shattering event. So you do not have an obligation to offer me food, or come and hang out, or give me a million dollars (though checks are always accepted, especially checks for a million dollars). I don’t have an expectation for any particular response from any particular person.

The response that I have a much harder time understanding is when people say “I didn’t say anything to you because I thought you didn’t want people to talk to you right now”. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not MAD at anyone for not doing that. I’m really not. But we’re talking about what I understand versus don’t understand, and there has not been one interaction with a person offering their condolences that I have disliked or that I have felt was an imposition. I will never be upset with you for telling me you’re sorry. I’m pretty confident in making that promise.

I feel isolated and sad and not much like myself these days. If I don’t have the energy to say hi back, I’m probably just going to not say hi back. I am much more lonely than I am annoyed by the people checking in. If you don’t want to say hi, that’s totally your call. But don’t not say hi because you think I don’t want you to say hi. I want everyone to say hi, especially from 10pm to 2am, as I have previously established. If you don’t want to reach out, that is your choice. But don’t let your reason for that be that you thought it would not be welcomed. At this point, I would even appreciate hearing condolences from my worst childhood bully (it’s a toss-up, but if your initials are L.C., it just might be you).

Okay, so that takes us to 11:30. We’ve got this, maybe? Stay tuned.

Hugs right back to all of you,

Matt

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What We Can

Invictus (is that too dramatic?)