I have all sorts of numbers dancing around in my head. I feel I use them to create a buffer or fence between me and people. Throw out my numbers and see if you can top that!2, 10, 3, 71, 4, 7, 42, 45, 20, 62 ,5, 23, 24, 30, 13 2, 8, 6
2 years from original diagnosis of cancer. 7 months of chemotherapy, 5 weeks of daily radiation, 6 months of no treatments, 10 months after recurrence, 30 days clean CT scan, 3 weeks to live, 42 years married.
I use them like posts marking my journey. Some are pounded into the ground straight and will never move. Some are just stabbed into the hard ground and tilt a bit . A few are stuck into mud, and one is in quicksand.
I awoke this morning thinking of all the numbers I use and keep holding onto. Wondering what purpose they serve. All these numbers and imagery. Am I using them not only to distance myself from others, but to create a mental distraction for myself?
My tears are streaming down my face as I sort through my thoughts to write. As much as I hate the word process guess I am processing. And much as I love to get caught up in intellectual pursuits my emotions are right on the surface. As the Borg say, "Resistance is futile."
hugs to you dear sister. hugs.
ReplyDeleteShannon posted this comment on PC and said I could it add it here. Seems the only way I can post a comment is as a reply. Here goes:
ReplyDeleteI was petrified to click the link and read your blog. I sat here for a long time, feeling frozen. I have thought of you so often and I wish there was something, anything any of us could say or do to take a turn carrying your pain. Helpless is a terrible place. I am glad I clicked anyhow ... it was beautiful. It is so much more than sadness and pain .. it is love and memories and laughter ...
The numbers struck such a cord for me. When I was expecting our twins - and for a year following the birth .. the numbers were with me like they are for you right now. The weeks, the days of pregnancy, the due date, the day they were born, the minutes they were born, their weights, their hours, weeks, months of age, their weights, the hours they slept .. I knew them all and they scrolled through my head like they do for you. And as I read your post, I grieved a bit. Somewhere, without me knowing the precise moment, I set the numbers down. I can't remember the minutes of their birth without looking it up. I guess for a time we need them. Maybe they ground us and keep us from flying away during times of turmoil?!
Thank you for writing. I know you are writing for yourself, but the ripples touch all of us.