My late husband once told me,
“Nothing has been easy for me in this life, even when I was a kid. I had to fight for the things I loved to do and have, no matter how small they were, while other people had it easy. It’s the same for you too. Is it mere luck, destiny, fate? I don’t know. But for the two of us life has been a constant battle.”
True. Everything in life had been a constant battle for him. He fought for everything and in the end he had to fight for his life too. That was the hardest part. When he was so full of life, it was cut short. And there was nothing he or anyone else could do about. And with his loss I lost my will to fight.
There was a time in my life not so long ago, a time when I would have defiantly done what made me comfortable and happy. I would have fought all odds to get what I wanted or where I wanted. And now the only place that I want to be, the only thing that I want to do is just let the days pass by. It is easy during the day. On most days I feel like I am on automatic pilot, doing this and that until it’s dark everywhere. Come night I am all full of doubts and criticism and somehow the past, where I was so settled and so complete, seems to have been part of a dream, an illusion.
As Joanna Trollope writes:
“Confidence goes, you see. You can look so capable, so certain, in your own world, in the world that requires some incredible talents but doesn’t actually ask you to get out there and graft with everyone else.”
Pain, disappointment and discomfort are best dealt with by distance in my case. When I am in too much pain I shun away from society until things start to make sense again for me.
I remember once, after his cancer was back the second time, I was so mad and angry. One morning we were having coffee and while he (my late husband) was roaming the internet I just sat there staring off into empty space. He turned around and asked,
“Aren’t you writing anything today?”
“What’s the point? I don’t want to do it anymore.” I said.
He looked at me, “Oh come on, look whatever will be will be, you shouldn’t stop. And if I don’t make it, I will come back somehow to find you and strangle you if you let your talents go to waste.”
Part of me wants to do something, anything to save me from my thoughts. Because for me being busy means I don’t have to think too much. But my future is without much attraction, certainly not enough to contemplate it in terms of goals and targets. Although I wish, in the words of J.R.R. Tolkien:
“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”