difficult subject, read this at your own risk.

I have been hemming and hawing about whether or not I would really write this blog post, and I may not, honestly, hit publish, but here goes nothing.
(blame my job)

Related to some of the death visits I've gone to, lately, I've been thinking about how I would handle life if MM should die before I did. I actually started this thought process with the internal discussion of how I would be if he were here with me, receiving hospice care. Neither of which I like to think about, but yet, I am faced with death and dying, its what I "do" now. I think its natural that I have these thoughts.
     I shy away, initially, with the same thought I think many of us cling to, "we will be old and grey and doddering, having lived our lives and all will be well".
     But I can't get away that easily. Not with what I see. I see too much maybe. What I mean by that, is I see things so personal to a family, especially the spouses who lose the person they've been married to for decades. Grieving is a very intimate, private, thing. But yet, they welcome me to be a part of it. And I try so hard to be a comfort.
     But I digress... what I get from seeing these walking wounded spouses is varied. I see strength. I see a deeper love than sometimes I am comfortable seeing. And I see loss, and lost. That look in their eye, wondering how they are going to put one foot in front of the other, for as many days as they have left, without their other.
     And I see their children struggling to understand, and struggling to help them. And honestly? Nothing any of us can do will help them.
     And in the quiet night on my way home, my brain goes there.....
"Who's going to die first, me, or MM? I WANT to die first." Then I try to reject that, because I think I am being selfish. "But I don't want to be that walking wounded spouse!" My heart screams that. To even consider the death of MM takes my breath away. It puts such a grieving sadness in my heart to even think about it, that I'm afraid of how its going to feel if I have to survive it.
      2 sides to every coin, though, right? If I died first, I do not doubt at all that MM would be the walking wounded spouse I discussed above. Its not going to be any better or easier for him. So there is pain, no matter what happens. And I don't want to hurt him that way, either.
    We talk about it, actually, and he very decisively tells me that he is going to die first. Like its pre-ordained, and I don't have a choice. And that scares the F&%$ out of me when he says that. I HATE IT WHEN HE SAYS THAT, because he does seem to just know. Some of it, is, I know based on his family health history, (which I will not discuss here, that's too private) but my family health history is wrought with bad and cautionary tales as well, so I reject that, on both of our accounts. Especially since the birth of our son, we've both been trying to live better and take better care of ourselves, because we have a little kid. So much to live for. We want to see it all, see him grow, fall in love, have kids. Live. We want to see both kids settled, and happy. We want to know we did a good job, and left them in a good place. THEN, maybe, we can rest. And, I guess, whomever the Lord takes first, well, the Lord will also give the other one the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and survive.
     But it doesn't stop me, my brain, my heart, from thinking, considering, and yes, somehow, "pre"grieving the loss of my best friend, my partner. The father of my son. The man I waited so long to find. No amount of time feels like its going to be enough. But, I am also smart enough to live each day, love each day, and not think about this all the time. To live my life, day by day, and think about all the fun the future holds.