after shocks

Yesterday, I went from this sort of numb what-the-hell-happened-and-don’t-think-about-it-just-deal-with-the-details of letting go.  And found myself angry.  A serves-him-right-if-he-regrets-what-he’s-done kind of anger.  A cold F___ you kind of anger.  I am done, done, DONE! 

I slept a full uninterrupted night for the first time in a long time.  A deep exhausted sleep. 

When I awoke, the anger was still there, I continued the tirade of all the things I’d done for this friend, the sacrifices I’d made, the many times I spent at his side in the hospitals, in the doctors offices, nursing him back to health, bringing him food on a tray.  The countless times I put my life on hold to be there in times of trouble.  The endless lies he had told me, right to my face.  Promises broken, again and again. 

I woke up steaming mad and I was glad too!  That it was over.  The truth had been forced out, a choice had been made.  A choice that didn’t include me.

“I want to go on a vacation,” I said. 
“What?” My husband looked a little startled.  “A vacation?  Why?” He hates traveling.  I’m not crazy about it myself.  Airports are such a hassle, and the packing and unpacking, paying an obscene amount of money to stay in a cracker box sized room at an expensive resort.  I pushed those thoughts out of my mind.
“Because we can,” I said defiantly.  “This spring when Will goes away.  We don’t have ____ or his caregiver living with us anymore.  No meals to prepare.  No fresh squeezed sugar-free lemonade.  We can just up and go.  Stick the dogs in the kennel and take off.  Free as can be.  I’m glad!  I’m glad this happened.  I’m glad I know the truth.  I’ve got a whole future ahead, that looks very different than the one I was envisioning.  This is a good thing.  He did me a favor!  I’m glad he said goodbye!”

“Meg,” Don said, softly.  His face serious.  “I know you’re trying to be brave, to be strong.”
“I’m not trying to be brave or strong,” I said irritably.  “It’s how I feel.”
“But it’s okay to be sad,” he said, like I hadn’t just snapped at him.  “Anybody would be hurt.  It’s understandable.  He was a surrogate father to you.  It hurts that one of your closest friends, knowing who you are, that you always tell the truth, and yet he chose not to believe you.  Chose not to believe the plain facts that any sane person could see.  Chose to shut his eyes.  Say goodbye.  It’s okay to grieve, Meg.  It’s a great loss for you.  And even though he was a pain in the ass sometimes, you’re going to miss him.”

And then he held me as all my bravado crumbled away and there was nothing left to do but bawl.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, December 02, 2007 in Chewing the Fat

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