The Black Hole

Shortly after the hell known as January-March 2012, my sister was talking to a co-worker that had lost her son, and knew the pain of death, and this lady told Betsy "Stay away from the black hole." We can all picture what the black hole is. I'm quite sure this means different things to different people, but it is pretty much all the same.

Well, I just recently fell into the black hole, and Betsy and Teresa had to come in and get me out. Here is how that happened.

When I was mentally preparing to go home (home to Louisiana, MO), I was not looking forward to it. I actually hated the idea, but I have to check on the house, and I wanted to vote in Missouri. I knew it was going to be sad, and I thought I could handle it. I thought I was strong enough to be able to look sadness in the face and feel it, but stay sane while feeling it.

A few months ago, I quit paying for cable TV, because I am very cheap. John would be the first to tell you that. He used to be partly amused, and partly aggravated about it. So, I knew I would not have television, which was ok because I don't watch it that much anyway. As long as I had internet, I would be ok. Plus I packed a whole box of books, markers, music CDs etc. to keep myself entertained. Pretty soon after I got home, I threw away one of my CDs because it kept skipping. Then the next one did, and the one after that, so instead of throwing away CDs, I threw away the player. I could still listen to music on the computer though. I also realized one day what I missed about television was hearing other people's voice. I missed hearing people talk. Even if I wasn't listening to what they were saying, just having that in the background, was something I missed.

The internet I have there is not unlimited, and ridiculously expensive if you go over your "allotted" gigabits. I must have been beginning to enter the black hole, because I could have come back to Texas before election day, but it seemed too much trouble, so I decided to stay until after the election. So, election night, I had to watch what was happening. I streamed NBC news for eight hours. It occurred to me the day after, that I should check my internet usage, and I had already used up 2/3 of my allotted time, and I still had over two weeks before the amount "reset". So, not only did I not have television, I had to start limiting my only other contact with the outside world.

As I said before, I don't cook in that kitchen, I don't hang out in the living room, so that leaves the bedroom. And guess what is in there - John's whole wardrobe. He is EVERYWHERE in that house. EVERYWHERE!!!! Even if I could take out all of his stuff, he is in the kitchen cabinets we installed ourselves. He is in the new bedroom windows that he put in. He is in the bathroom that we have re-done at least three times, including the tub, toilet, and sink.

Not only is John built into the house, it is where Jes grew up. Jes and I are in the house too. We lived there for over 14 years. I remember a few years ago thinking how sad it was going to be to sell that house. That was home, for a long time. Home for the family of Suzy, Jes, and John. People grieve over losing just their home.

Anyway, I just got sadder and sadder. I couldn't make myself do anything. The grocery store is now 11 miles (one way) away, so that was way to much trouble. I had pizza delivered. I don't have to go anywhere, or do anything for that. So for the last three days I was there, that is what I ate. Two pieces of pizza a day. Healthy, right? No veggies, no protein, no nutrition. For three days (at least) pizza and coffee was my intake. I made an additional mistake of getting whiskey. The one thing I would get out of the house for was cigarettes, and booze is sold at the cigarette store.

I slept a lot too. And dreamed a lot. John or Daddy wasn't dead in my dreams. I had a normal life in dreamland.

I was able to sound ok on the phone when Jes or Betsy, or Pat, or Teresa called. No need for them to worry. I was able to sound upbeat in texts, and on Facebook. It's all good, everything's gonna be all right, Bob Marley said so, and I choose to believe him. Meanwhile, Garth Brooks, the Rolling Stones, Melissa Etheridge, and others were telling me that the world is sad, but love is good. Love that I have now lost.

Anyway, on Friday night, Betsy called. I had been crying frequently for the past two days and nights, and thought that was healthy. Tears are cleansing, right? If I am able to cry, I'm getting better, right? Betsy could hear the sadness in my voice and asked when I was coming home (to Texas home). I remember telling her that I didn't know because it just seemed like to much trouble. She said "Are you not coming home because you want to stay there, or because it is too much trouble to get in the car?" I couldn't say the answer out loud, so she said, "I'm coming to get you". The relief I felt at that moment was exactly what I needed. I was able to say Ok. And she flew in the very next morning. Teresa picked her up from the airport, and they came over and saved me. Just like Bob Marley's Three Little Birds, we got to spend time together, just three sisters, three mothers, three friends. And Betsy drove home with me. My throat actually started getting sore from all the talking we did in the 16 hour drive.

I am home now. Texas home, with Jes, and Betsy, and Zak, and Pat. And the cats, and unlimited internet, and TV, and food, and people to talk to, and things to do, and everything that you don't even realize are important, until you don't have them anymore.

I feel much better.