I started the day by going for a drive. I got a cold brew and headed to Conneaut for a bagel breakfast sandwich, which I ate overlooking Lake Erie, as I like to do.
Something I’ve been thinking about today is just how quickly things can change in a life. Of course that’s a lesson which is extra-embedded in my mind these days, but life is fragile even in the best of times. Storms come from the calm blue sky, health catastrophes happen all the time, and a financial disaster could wipe out your bank account on a random afternoon without any predictable reason. We like to tell ourselves that we are secure and that we know how things are going to go, but we really don’t. Almost anything could happen almost anytime, and if we stop for a moment to acknowledge that truth it’s hard to put it back out of our conscious minds.
I think we need to believe that things around are predictable because the alternative is too challenging to keep in our heads for very long.
I was reading more of Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking today, and so much in that book resonates with me as a widower. I have lived—am living—through the worst thing I will ever experience, and that changes a person. She says that widows look like they’ve been through something that has clearly changed them and shaken them to their core, and she’s right. I’m not going to say that I deeply embrace each day as though it may be my last, but on an aspirational level, sure. I try. I’m not going to say that I don’t trust other people to be there as supports for me because they’re just going to die too, but sure. The thought crosses my mind more than I’d like.
In conversation with a few friends yesterday, the thought of novelty and what it gives us has come up a few different times as well. For me, it is joyous to eat something new (because it might taste really good and end up surprising me in that way). For Kellie, it was scary to try eating something new, because it might taste really bad and then she would have to deal with that disappointment and stress. So she preferred sticking to the things she knew, while I prefer sticking to the things that might surprise me. I know those surprises might be negative ones, but that doesn’t ruin the experience for me in the same way it did for Kellie. The joy for me of a win on the food slot machine outweighs the stress of a loss, so I keep seeking out those new experiences. Maybe it’s a sandwich, maybe it’s a gorgeous view, maybe it’s a book that gives me new insights into the world, maybe it’s an idea I hadn’t thought of before.
I can’t tell you how many times someone has told me (lately, even) that I have the best support system ever. I doubt it, if only because I don’t think I’m worth the best support system ever, and don’t they have better things to occupy their time with? In all practical senses, I’ve never had a better support system in all my life. The people who surround me are truly special. I am continually gobsmacked by how cared-for I am, and I keep waiting for it to stop. Because worrying about permanence is a thing I do now. But day after day, they’re still there.
Today, after breakfast, we had a family meeting. Coco and Ivy voted to drive to the Mosquito Lake Dog Park, so we did. It was a truly special morning, followed by hot dogs for us all. Here’s Ivy in all her glory. Her faith in me is a constant source of joy.
And here’s Coco. When she’s tired-out, as she was from all her play at the dog park today, she curls up on my chest like she did when she was an eight-week-old puppy. Even though she’s much bigger now, she loves burying her face down into the crook of my neck and going to sleep. It is one of the best things in the world.
After we got home, I had a quick visit from Stacy and a longer one from my mother-in-law. It was nice to see them (and also nice to have the housewarming party with my sister-in-law on Sunday). I was more tired than usual, because that’s my new usual, but I did my best in all those social settings.
We keep moving forward, whether life is fragile or not (Spoiler alert: it’s incredibly tenuous). Because what’s the alternative?
Hugs,
Matt