The day has almost passed. I have done it all. All the right things. The Meeting. The Phone talks. The Eating. The Garden. I have done the day’s doings. And now its time for the seemingly unbearable. Now the night is late and the sleepiness hasn’t come so the thinking does.
I don’t know how to bear the siren singe of the morning he ran away. The police car in the driveway and standing beside him as he lay in the dirt beside his road in the forest.
I don’t know how to bear the waking, paralysed with no idea that I had been asleep for weeks. Tubes coming out all over me and the cold jug of water on the table opposite and my terrible thirst for some cold water.
How I dread the days now when people ask things of me. Ask me to walk around and converse and drive and cook and clean and go to the toilet and shower.
Because when I stop – the thinking comes. The shock returns. I am alone and there is noone at all to help me. I will never be as I was before this. Part of me has gone ahead.
I still see the Young woman driving off with all the music gear and the van. I gave her his ashes and his hat and a doonah. I didn’t know what else to do.
My liver is hard and big and hurts me and I am ill. Ill and heartbroken. I have not as yet made my decision about whether I continue or not. I am afraid of ceasing and I am weary of proceeding.
Weary of pushing back the memories of the agonising days and the weakness. Weary of the memories of trying to lift my finger. To stand. To lift an arm to wash my hair or brush it.
Sometimes the Horror comes upon me of the days when the pain and paralysis began and grew and grew until the smallest of movements meant suffering and immobility. And now I am here and confined and listening to the spider whispers of thinking.
Tomorrow – I shall most likely reprogramme and shape my thoughts. I will be able to dig out the crystals buried in the dirt. That’s what happened today. The little girls had taken one of Izzy’s good crystals and buried it in the dirt a couple of weeks back. They said it was for a Dwarf’s mine and sure enough, when the Gentle Men began to garden they came across it.
I will be able to do that tomorrow – most likely. I can already see some shinings. But tonight – it seems almost Unbearable.