I've been on a crazy book reading bender the last few weeks. I'm not sure if Facebook has lowered my entertainment threshold significantly, or if they really were the "best books I've read in forever", but I just couldn't put them down! D attempted to keep up, but the 20 minutes he could dedicate to pleasure reading every night before bed, couldn't hold a candle to the 2hrs I got during K's naps, and the "just 3...0 more pages..." I could justify each night, that took me into the wee hours of the morning (it was nothing 3 cups of coffee couldn't deal with the next day).
Anyway, the most recent book I crushed was "Water for Elephants". I'm not sure why I put off reading this book for so long. I don't know if I was turned off by the circus setting or maybe I just couldn't understand how watering elephants could be that enthralling, but whatever the reason, I was so incredibly wrong (never judge a book by it's cover). What an amazing piece of writing! Now, for the first time ever, I will be able to be that person who complains about how the movie doesn't stack up in any way to the book (obviously because my previous prejudices also prevented me from watching the movie). Bring it on Reese Witherspoon and Robert Pattinson, I look forward to our movie date this evening!
That being said, today's post is inspired by a topic that was brought to my attention in this book. Widowhood. While happily reading along, I came to the stark realization that barring some freak accident where we're both killed together, at some point in the (hopefully distant, distant) future, either D or myself will be widowed (sad face). The widower in the book, while sad that he was without his life partner, was happy that she had passed away before him so that she didn't have to be the one consumed by loneliness, a failing body and the mundaness of 93 year old existence.
How incredibly sad.
So I broached the subject with D.
Me: "D, I'm scared of when you or I die. If you die first, I'll be so lonely, I don't know what I would do. I can't imagine what life would be like. How would I fall asleep without your sweaty, boiler of a body rubbing up next to me? Who would scrub the tub clean? Who would calm me down when I'm about to lose it on the Purolator people who can't find the package I came to pick up? Who would come in every night, give me a kiss and ask me how my day was? Or if I die first, I don't want to think of how sad and lonely you may be. It's horrible either way."
D: "I don't think of it that way. I would like to think that when one of us dies, the other will still have so much in their life to live for, to enjoy. Family, friends, hobbies and the memories of the years we had together."
K: "Up!" (at the garage door opening).
Me: (Looking back at our perfect little man) Yeah, you're right.
End of conversation.
D and I are not scared of talking about death, it actually comes up quite frequently in conversation. For example, we both want to be buried. We want our headstones to be minimal and natural looking (D wants a carved tree stump, but I may veto that for a proper rock). We would like to donate any of our usable parts to save a life (or 8). And if that's not an option, than donating our bodies to a cadaver lab for science/teaching would be our plan B. We've discussed at great lengths who we would want to raise K, heaven forbid we go sooner rather than later (and together).
Our comfort with discussing death, has no doubt come from our fields of work. Working in healthcare has exposed us to the entire lifecycle, including death, and it has given us the vernacular to talk freely about it. People die. We all die.
So this conversation was not weird, it did not catch D off guard, and he didn't miss a beat with his reply to me. He's great like that, he knew just what to say to bring me out of my book-induced frenzy and back to reality.
So when the time comes and at death do us part, I greedily hope to go first, because he seems to have a good handle on life and I think he would make the best widower. Besides, he knows that I don't make time for shredding our confidential information pages and he would spin in his grave knowing that on top of being a widow, I'm lackadaisically making myself vulnerable to identity theft!
Until next time friends!
-A
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