While listening to this song by Sara Bareilles (I am a musical emotional hostage on many occasions) I realized something: I am scared. Really scared.
Most people who know me would never think of me as a person afraid of anything (except snakes): I am strong. I am outspoken. I am opinionated, I am tough and emotionless. But the reality is: I am not. Any of these things. I am alone in a big world that can be scary. Sometimes a little terrifying. I found a man who saw me for me and loved me anyway. I found a man songs are recorded about and love stories are written about. He loved me with all of my faults, my weaknesses and my inconsistencies. Despite everything, he loved me. And he still does. And it hurts. It hurts to have had that kind of love, the kind that some never have, that people long for and dream of, and to watch it slip away and realize that it will never be again….it is not just scary, it is crushing. There is nothing I can do to save him therefore saving us. I can’t apologize for something done. I can’t take back something said. There is no “fixing” this. There is no making up or forgiving and working it out. I am not an easy person to love. I don’t just go along with things. I question. I wonder. I dream. I am passionate to the point of annoyance. And Jim saw this in me and liked it. He liked me and wanted me. He chose me. I chose him. And something else bigger than both of us chose him to leave first. How? How could anyone think he should leave first? He was such a great Dad. And a great husband. And a great man. On all accounts. Jim gave. Jim was good. Jim was kind.
Jim and I at the Grand Illumination in Colonial Williamsburg, Dec. 2011.
Jim made this world a better place because he was a hard worker, a giving man, a forgiving person and an accepting human. Just what we all need. And yet he is being put through an unfathomable demise. How cruel. How unfair. How awful for everyone involved.
I no longer know who I am. I question each conversation I have. Sometimes I can’t even recall what I said or who I said it to. I am not just lost; I am not even searching. I used to think I was…searching for something I won’t find and not a clue what I am looking for. I am searching for the man who loved me, who made me ok with me. I know I am supposed to be a woman who doesn’t need a man to love herself or who needs a man for anything and I don’t….but the truth is…Jim completed me. He made me better. He made me like myself. He made me a better mom, a better friend, employee, citizen. A better everything. And without him, who am I? Am I still deserving? Am I still likable? Am I still a good person? He was head and shoulders above me in so many categories and without his companionship and guidance I am on shaky ground. How can I live up to his standards without him showing me the way? His strength and unwavering belief in me is a lot to live up to.The trust he has shown me not only throughout our marriage, but especially as he has succumbed to this disease…unquestionable trust. It is almost suffocating. The decisions I have made on his behalf and his lack of argument are to be commended and should be held in the highest regard. Even while this disease ravages his brain, he trusts me to always do what is in his best interest. Amazingly so. He brought out the best in me and it is now up to me to find my own strength, my own North Star, my inner GPS system. No one to remind me when I fail that I will be ok and that I will some day succeed. That I am capable. That I am beautiful despite the wrinkles and gray hair. That I am still interesting and wanted.
Without getting angry, without making excuses, without Jim…I move forward. Not at the pace I would normally. Not with the same spirit and drive. Without my partner…without my biggest fan…without the comfort of knowing no matter what mess I have made, no matter how terribly I have failed, I will have someone who still thinks I am awesome and competent. Someone who will wrap his arms around me and make the world disappear………no more. I am alone with my own failings and my trials and tribulations. I can only reach deep to a place I have never thought I could or would have to go and forge ahead. Without Jim’s inspiration and acceptance. Without his smile. Without his wisdom. Without all of the many things he brought to us all through his quiet example. I love you Jim and I miss you so very much. Thank you for being you and allowing me to be your wife for 18 years.
Brad, Jim and Frances. Nov 2015.
