| “Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.” |
| Brené Brown |
Well, maybe I’m pregnant then? With a vulnerable set of truth sextuplets I haven’t stopped to look at yet? What better time than now since it feels like an emotional train wreck. And, I’m sifting through the remains. Hollow and empty are driving and navigating the train that just ran me over. Just sitting at the kitchen table clearing space on Jonah’s GO Pros. WHAM! What just happened?
A memory of her. A video of her. My creative partner for nearly 18 years. My art project partner since we’ve created 3 things together. 2 boys and a business. But, there comes caveats with our projects. There is pain with these realizations, because my partner is gone.
Dead. Died. Gone. This is the birthplace of my daily sorrow. Maybe it’ll get better. I’m sure someone somewhere will tell me that it will. But, what if this feeling of being stuck is what I’ll keep getting because it’s all I keep seeing. The courage to see anything at this point seems…
I don’t want to be vulnerable because hope and courage have been super bittersweet companions. I held out hope that my partner would have more time to…Who knows what she would have done. She didn’t do what she wanted to do at the end. She wanted to be in a different place. I wanted to take her to that different place, but she wanted to listen to the doctors too. It was…
Tragic. At the end.
What remains are the echos of a life unfinished. It’s very hard to believe that a person goes when their time has come. What good is having an unknown expiration date? The fear of not knowing when this will end. Who’s going next. What remains of…
Purpose. I’m their father now. Doing a teamwork job. Alone. But, not alone alone. There is still our active “village that helps to raise the children” helping to raise the child in my direct care. There is the emotional connection we had that I miss. The agreements we lived through together. The versions of love we were creating. It wasn’t perfect…and at times, very dysfunctional. We were navigating that together. The added strain of incurable cancer was a weight on both of us we struggled deeply to weather. The cancer wasn’t even operable. There was no getting away from what was devouring my bride.
There was no way I could understand how to fight for a future that was going to stop creating for both of us. I enjoyed creating opportunities with her. I enjoyed exploring the unknown futures with her. I struggled to be the type of support she was looking for until the end. She just wanted someone to stand beside her and encourage her to keep working hard to build her piece of heaven on earth. Our piece of heaven on earth.
Maybe next time, I’ll talk about my loss of peace? Sleep…perchance…stop the dreaming.