Some days I feel like Alice in Wonderland, “Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next…She drank from a bottle called DRINK ME and she grew so tall, (life with Brett). She ate from a plate called TASTE ME and down she shrank so small (life as I now know it). And so she changed.” ~Lewis Carroll
Just like said story, my life has become very complex and thankfully full of vivid characters. For me perhaps more of an illustration of a metamorphosis, as Alice did not come out the same person that went in. Just like I am not the person I was once.
It’s unbelievable how time passes, (sigh) that no matter what happens or how bad it seems…the sun rises, sets and life continues to continue. How?
The rising sun when Brett was in the hospital was something I looked at in awe. It was a miserably cold and snowy winter. The cold temps broke records, there were ice storms and bitter wind chills but I didn’t feel them. From a couch that I turned into a makeshift bed, in the mornings, I would watch the sunrise while he slept and I thanked God for the sun, another day and a day of improvement, while there was improvement. I would watch the atmospheric effects of the sunlight create dogstars, beautiful golden hues with streaks of orange and red against the clouds and I watched them reflect off the glass on the buildings. As his deterioration set in and he was moved into the ICU, there were no windows except in his room. Here I could only be for 10 minutes at a time and although these windows allowed daylight in, neither sunrises or sunsets could be seen.
This is where my darkness set in.
Brett’s condition deteriorated in a matter of days. It was shockingly fast and the outcome was tragic, there was barely time to process the trauma. It was there that I began to fall down my figurative dark whole and where I began to wonder if I would ever hit bottom, where this elusive bottom was and if I would recognize it. Of course I did but it would take an entire 11 months to do so, my deterioration was much slower than his. Mine was exasperating and I couldn’t turn to what I relied on most…my work.
I still do not know if he was misdiagnosed an entire fifteen months earlier, if I should view it as a gift or and incredibly cruel oversight that stole our lives. Either way, I can’t go back but I do wonder what if…and the outcome to what if is always the same, Brett would be alive and here with us.