I am not good at keeping a diary. I never have and probably never will. Blogging is the closest I have ever come to keeping a diary of some sort. But sometimes I am glad I write things down (as in, paper and pen). I am cleaning my office today and came across my old day planner pages from 2007. I had taken them out of the binder and tucked them away on a bookshelf.
I was just leafing through the pages to make sure there wasn't anything important tucked into the pile when I opened it to July 2007, the height of Watson's sickness. I don't remember much from that time except faint impressions of panic and sadness, of hope and praying for a miracle. But looking at those pages reminded me that I somehow went on living despite the horror that was happening to his body.
I saw a movie (Bourne Identity), I went to the farmer's market, I made phone calls to people... yet I must have been sleepwalking because I can't remember any of it. Those pages remind me that I still put on my normal face and interacted with people, that most had no idea how sad or mad or distraught I was over Watson's cancer.
I am not sure what is the point of this post. Maybe you do. Maybe I am sleepwalking again.... but the well of emotion is open again. Just by looking at some calendar pages that had been forgotten.
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Friday, June 27, 2008
Sometimes I am glad I write things down...
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5 comments:
Oh Linda, just a memory and it's like being back there. Totally understand how you are feeling. The only thing I would say is go with it for a time.
I get like that from time to time ;]
The weird thing about memory is how it only lets through, or back, the things it thinks you can cope with. The memory of such bad times may come back in little tiny pieces, bit by bit - but the journal showed you a big piece of those days all at once. Hugs from the hounds,
H
Thank you, all. I saved those pages and threw out the rest of the calendar. I would like to revisit that time again, but not for a while. I surprised myself at how I reacted... I was sure I was "over it" and could think of him with only smiles. Not yet. There are still tears for him.
I don't think we will ever get over it. I think you learn to live with it. I am fine some days and then on others I see Prince so clearly and it all comes flooding back. I only have to hear the wind in the trees and my heart breaks for him. If love is a form of madness we must all be totally dotty because our dogs were so very loved and always will be.
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