Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Scurrying

I am watching a small cockroach scurrying across the tub floor in the bathroom of a fine Ramada Inn in Dallas, Texas. I see it because the wireless access doesn't work unless I sit in the doorway of the bathroom. Why, I do not know. However the creature is scurrying around, oblivious to the larger world. I want to be like that.

I love my wife so much and it isn't a foxhole conversion. I have always loved her. I just love her now with a passion and intensity that I have not had for far too long. I want to get everything from every moment. It makes facing what lies ahead a bit easier. It isn't that what lies ahead is bad but it will be rough for an undetermined amount of time.

When we go to chemotherapy I see the people around her. We quite often skew the age average down by a number of years. I also look at their faces and see how they are suffering. Many are checking out. Yet they grasp on to the chemo like they are holding on to a tiny branch of a larger limb on the tree of life. It is like they are hoping that this limb will grow into a tree and pull them out. It won't and it can't and it is sad. I have to leave. I don't want my love to suffer like these people are suffering. I can't bear the thought of her enduring so much pain ultimately for nothing but to die which leads me back to the scurrying little beast.

I want to scurry of oblivious to the larger issues at hand. I don't want to deal with the details and the pain and the decisions and all of that. Lucky little roach. Maybe I'll squash him.