I don’t know quite how to describe how the passing of time has completely changed. Lengths of time like minutes, hours, days, weeks, months can seem almost equal. Fuck I can’t articulate this very well.
On bad days I wake up and wonder how I’m going to possibly make it thru the day, or make it until Magnus is asleep for a nap and then for the night. His energy and questions are endless. Sometimes I can pull myself out of it and enjoy the moment I am in with him, other times I am going thru the motions, or letting the tv entertain him for far too long so I can escape to the other room and do nothing at all.
It gets better I’ve been told. I think it’s going to get worse first, with the unpacking of the life I used to share with Chris. Of the house we packed up together, the house that was so full of him and our lives as a family.
This grief is like nothing I’ve ever come close to feeling in my life. I can’t quantify it; it seems endless, without shape or description.
8 years can be endless or short. Most of our 8 years together we fought, we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. It was less than a year before he was diagnosed that we were finally figuring out how to fully love each other and let ourselves be loved. Less than a year. I had so much more love to give him, to show him.
I was crying and now I’m laughing. Magnus has climbed into my lap and is asking if he can please smell my butt. Then he points his butt in the air and asks me to please smell his. Where did this come from?
ad astra per aspera 