Went and bought an alarm clock for myself on Saturday because I wanted to start getting up before eight (or eight thirty) and try and re-establish a more work friendly routine before moving back to the States. I will never find a teaching job that lets me sleep in and for now I could use the extra time in the morning for writing and getting things in order for the initial move. I know that April/May isn’t exactly around the corner and that I made the move up here in less time (plus sold my house, car and gave away nearly all of my furniture to boot), but I would rather avoid the panicky feelings of deadlines looming like large scary monsters.
So, was I up with the sunshine? No. And just an FYI - the moon is still bright shiny and full at 6AM in northern Alberta. The reason for my spectacular failure was that I couldn’t fall asleep last night. It was probably one o’clock by the time I managed and even then it was another one of those dream filled sleeps that I am beginning to find aggravating as they are just non-sensical and exhausting.
Part of my trouble is that I don’t really wind down prior to going to bed. I am usually busy with something - writing or shredding or something too busy. Lately too I am stiff from hunching over the shredder or my daughter’s head. And finally, Wednesday will be two years since Will died. I haven’t any sense of how to commemorate it. The first one was just getting to and past it, but now that I have and the day isn’t as fraught with anxiety and dread - now what? His grave is back in Iowa. His friends fell out of touch long before he died. My own family will not remember and truthfully saw his passing as a blessing for me and although they are right on an intellectual level, the emotions don’t match up for me. His mother considers me a murderer for not intervening when the aspiration pneumonia set in that final weekend. Katy is too young to drag into this commemoration of loss thing. I think for now it is better to celebrate his birthday and remember the happier times of his life and not dwell on the illness and death. Since she is a carrier of the disease that killed him, she will have her whole adult life to consider that and the fallout as it will effect her and her children (should she choose to take that risk). So, I am a trifle bit alone in this remembering stuff and honestly - I don’t feel like it anyway. I look at pictures of him when he was well - no, he was never well - but when he was not visibly ill, and it’s hard to remember how I felt then. It’s like flipping through someone’s photo album. Would it be awful of me to just feel sad but more grateful that it’s all behind me now? Because you see, that is what is making me really sad. I am happy. Happier than I can ever remember being. I love Rob. I love our life. I am looking forward to the future and the plans we have made and the ones we are still formulating.
Getting up early is a practice thing. Just like everything else.
