Photographs and Memories

I was doing pretty good this morning. Woke up at 0500, (still on Ireland Time), did my usual morning routine with only about an hour of contemplating the new meaning of my life as it appears to me through the fog and pain of loneliness. The dogs were able to revive me from my inner thoughts with the reminder I was not the only resident with a full bladder. Started a load of laundry, cooked the meat for today’s lunch and dinner, changed the clothes from washer to dryer and started another load. I am slowly sifting through the material objects collected over the past thirty five years. This is a very painful process and I try not to dwell on any one item or area of a room. Today it got out of hand. In the basement was a plastic storage container of about fifteen to twenty gallon size with about eight shoe boxes. I knew what was there but plunged ahead anyway. The pictures started from the very beginning of our journey together. I remembered the story behind every trip. Panama City with the girls before we got married, wedding day, honeymoon drive from San Diego to San Francisco, Keystone Colorado, Breckenridge Colorado (twice) and Cumberland Island. I had to stop. I still have five boxes left.

Meredith and I loved to travel. A lot of weekends, we would just drive. We always headed to the mountains. There was something mystical in the highlands calling us. No particular destination, just looking for boiled peanut stands and cold beer. Meredith taught me how to eat a boiled peanut with one hand so I could steer the car with the other. We laughed a lot. We were relaxed and at ease when we were together.

It has been almost eight months since the last journey ended and this new path was forced upon me. Nobody has called in those months. Nobody has come by to see me. Not that I expected any of that nor even desire the interruption. Meredith had to go three years of enduring the abandonment by all but two friends. I had to quit telling her of the people who would call me and ask about her or stop by the shop to ask me how she was doing. Everybody said “Meredith is in our prayers.” She did not want your prayers so much as your presence. I will not go into the details of the depths of her loneliness she felt at being abandoned by her friends and her church family who she under the belief, what she and I have come to realize is false, that the church friends were more family then friends.

“Tell Meredith she is in our prayers.” ‘What are you praying for’ I wanted to scream. If you would only go see her, that would have so much more uplifting effect on her spirit. I can only wish my faith is half as strong and pure as Meredith’s display of faith. We had a conversation early in this journey to the abyss of hell with this disease where she stated she did not want to die. She knew that death was approaching and was not afraid to die, she just did not want to die. The last three and a half years while in the wheelchair, she met each day with a smile. When she was taken upstairs by the care giver, when they made the turn from the bathroom into the bedroom she would give me a big smile and give me “Queen’s Wave”.

I prayed for Meredith also. I prayed for Him to prepare me for the loneliness and to end her suffering. To date, I can say neither prayer was answered.

I guess this is where I have to wrap up this rant, wipe the tears, suck it up (buttercup), raise the anchor and set a new course. Do not come for me for I am on the move. For all of Meredith’s friends, go see a shut in. I know it is hard. I had a couple of people tell me they were unable to visit Meredith because they remembered her the way she used to be and seeing her now was painful. I knew their pain. I had a front row center, stage seat everyday for six plus years. And we will not talk about the backstage events I was privy to. And it really pisses me off when people tell me, “I was surprised you stayed around.”

“As you treat the least of these so you treat me.” Sometimes being a good friend or a Christian is the hardest thing action one can do.