Today, I am organizing my new master closet! I have never had more than a couple shelves in our large walk-in closet because when we moved in, the previous owners had removed and taken all the shelving units.
I am super excited for all the storage space and things I'm able to have in there now!
But the wow and weird moment came when I was grabbing a bag that had been shoved in a corner of the closet almost 2 years ago and I realized it was still packed. Chad and I had gone on what became our last trip together (with the exception of Chandler's wedding). We went to Canada, a small town just across the MI border. He was showing signs of his health being worse, but he was mostly "stable" we were almost two years into the diagnosis. The trip was the worst one we ever had. He slept the entire time, except to wake up to eat. We played one game - kind of - but we ended it before it was over because of how he felt. We tried to watch movies, but he kept falling asleep.
We knew he would sleep a lot. But we had picked a spot that we were told was walking distance to a beach. I thought I would hang out on the beach. I even bought a beach canopy with the intention of hoping to get Chad there some too - but the plan was he would relax mostly at the cabin and I would relax at the beach, where I could easily check on him. Unfortunately the "beach" was a rock/stone beach that was about 6' wide and there was a drop off you had to climb down to even get to it. Between that and how sick was getting, I couldn't leave this "house" that we were in, in the middle of small town CA. I felt so stuck, so alone. It was hands down the worst trip I ever experienced. As he slept, I kept thinking at least at home I could be comfortable, in my own house. And I kept focusing on how alone I would soon be. How we were never going to get another trip. How we had already experienced our last good trip/good memories for our anniversary. It was so awful. I spent hours on the phone crying to my sister about how bad things were with Chad. How the labs were still "stable" but he was so uncomfortable and in so much pain. I could tell it was worse, even though the doctors couldn't yet. It took MONTHS for the doctors to catch up and realize that his cancer has spread from his liver to his shoulder and that was what was causing the pain. By the time they did, we had already gone through one round of radiation for his liver (right after the trip) and then were scheduled for a second one to "help with pain in his shoulder". Which it did not succeed at doing.
But months after he has passed away, after I have gone through a lot of "his stuff", mostly, not all yet. In the middle of this closet reorg I find a glaring symbol of what life was like in the middle of it all. I came back so exhausted, so depressed, so concerned for his health, as he pointed out that the 45 min road trip, was a bit much for him to handle - so I knew other than Drs. appoints, we were going nowhere until he passed. I knew it was the end of an era that we were headed into the abyss (and I was right, that last 14 months were so hard for him, and by extension, for me). That I tossed this bag in a corner and kept piling things on it for 2 years. I never saw it or noticed it after we got back. I didn't register that I hadn't unpacked it. It was the bag I had been happiest to pack, and the bag that never got opened - until today. Literally - it stayed in the back of the vehicle on the trip. We didn't even carry it inside.
I knew that one day I would think back to that trip. That as bad as it was, he was still here, kind of, and even miss that version of him. Obviously I miss the pre-cancer version the most. But I miss him just being in the house. Just his existence, even when sick, was comforting. I hated how I couldn't bring comfort to him. I hated that he was in pain that would not cease. But right up until the end, he brought that comfort to me. That steady consistency that no matter what, he loved me, even when he didn't fully understand me. We argued, sometimes as a sport, and mostly because he really wanted me to say he was right - and sometimes I wouldn't give in! LOL But at the end of the day, I knew he wasn't going anywhere. That regardless of our differing views at times, we were partners in life.
And one bag in the middle of a long weekend of reorganizing my new life as a solo partner, brought all those memories and moments back.
If I let myself, I could get so stuck in the grief. I am a very visual person, so changing a lot of things in the house - has been a priority. I knew I would never want to move on if I didn't to some extent embrace the change. I didn't remove him from it, but I altered things enough that I could function without the constant interruption of grief. I had too. I sat down next to him and neglected myself for over three years. My body was screaming for me to fix it and all I could do was say "not now, wait, your time will come." I couldn't allow myself any more time physically or I was going to end up like Chad. I am fighting to get healthier and fighting to live now - for both of us. He waited to care about his health until it was too late. Until he got cancer, trying to be healthy to live longer was never on his radar. Once he got his diagnosis then he wanted to live longer. Then he cared. I have learned from him - I can't wait. I have to choose health and choose me as a priority now. And in the middle of that choice, I got a reminder today, of what life looks like when you don't make that choice.
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