Old People

Someone in Carol's neighborhood has a wireless router. That's good news for me.

I moved today, from Somerville to Malden, the town in which I grew up. I was dead-set against it a few months ago. I'm a city girl and I really loved living near Davis Square. When I began the apartment search, I was looking in Davis Square and North Cambridge, my areas of choice. Both of those areas are very nice and very bustling places. Porter Square and Davis Square have been two of my favorite places for many years.

I had been looking on the Craigslist for weeks and weeks and choosing this apartment in Somerville and that apartment in Cambridge and blah, blah, blah, when suddenly and quite out of the blue, an apartment in Malden appeared out of nowhere with one single picture of the kitchen. From the moment I saw that beautiful hardwood floor and unbelievable built-in butcher block, I knew the entire apartment had to be mine. And now it is mine.

For months, I had been dreading this move because I thought it was going to be sad and scary. I was dreading this day right up until yesterday morning when the movers arrived. We loaded up the truck, drove to Malden, unloaded the truck and I became overwhelmed with emotion -- the wrong emotion....I mean, the right emotion -- Well, the "not-what-I-expected" emotion.

The very moment I set foot into the new apartment, I was overcome with euphoria. It's just so right. Everything about it is what's supposed to be. This was fate.

I'm a person who believes in fate and a person who believes that everything happens for a reason and that what's supposed to be, will be. Chris never believed that stuff. He accepted that I believed it though and that's just one of the many wonderful things about him. Even if he thought something I believed or thought was absurd, ridiculous or even insane, he accepted that I believed in it and he loved me anyway. Chris showed me so much love and acceptance that it sunk in and now I love and accept myself on a daily basis. He was the most wonderful friend and such a natural at being a husband. He really got the gist of it. Chris knew how to love and honor me no matter what. He knew what his vows stood for and he followed through with them. I did the same for him.

I believe that Chris guided me to this apartment. I can't really explain why. the way it all came about was so suddenly and meeting my landlords and signing the lease went so smoothly. I hate having to go into a cellar or to a Laundromat to wash my clothes and I ended up in a place with a washer and dryer right in my own kitchen. I'm up on a third floor, so I can keep my windows open when I go out so the air will always be fresh. I don't have to be paranoid that somebody can get into my apartment like I was when I lived on the first floor. When I called Rita, my new landlord, in June and told her about Chris and also that I wasn't going to be ready to rent until August and said to her, "You probably want to get rid of it for July, right?" she replied, "Not necessarily. It's more important to us that we get the right person in there."

Sometimes I feel Chris' presence. I can't really explain that, either. It's a feeling that he's sitting right next to me. I believe that he will watch over me and keep me safe throughout my life. Moving was a very tough decision to make. I was so convinced that I was going to cry all day today and I was not looking forward to it, but instead, I laughed all day and I felt as though I shredded more of my grief. This is an excellent move for me in the grief-scheme.

I brought my pictures of Chris with me. I wrote, the other day, about how I no longer felt anything when I looked at them. All of that changed today. The moment I walked into my new apartment, the pictures came alive again and I can remember Chris more clearly and with more love now than I have been able to in the past two months.

We sure had a time. Cancer is a very sad disease. Chris and I endured much stress, worry, depression and fear. All of those emotions cause wear and tear on the mind, body and soul. I didn't realize how much stress until a short while ago. My life had become an constant panic that Chris was going to die and constant attempt to make him be alive by shopping at Whole Foods, buying organic foods, pleading with him to meditate, praying to God and hoping against hope. That became my resting position.

Chris died seven months ago and I am just now beginning to grasp the reality of his demise. It has taken this long just to be able to say, "Chris died." I still wish he didn't die. I still need him. I still love him. Each day I make progress, though. Sometimes the progress is being able to move and feel euphoric about it. Sometimes the progress is having a good, hyperventilating cry. Sometimes kicking and punching my pillows and swallowing an antidepressant is about all of the acceptance I can muster up. It's all good.

What confuses me is that Chris was once alive. He was once healthy. I still ask "How could this have happened?" Everything was going so well. I had finally met the man of my dreams and he married me! How did this happen. Why us? Why me? Why, why, why?

I don't know when I will be free. I do know that I'm different, now, in so many ways. As tragic as this ordeal has been, there is some good that has come out of it. I won't go into it right now because my eyes are fluttering and I can barely keep them open.

It's time for me to sleep and hopefully have sweet dreams about my sweet husband. I loved him more than I thought I was capable of loving any man.

And now I am living in a sacred space.

If I could, Creej, I would hold onto you right now and never let you go. I would squeeze you with thankfulness and love powerful enough to shrink tumors.

And we would live to be old people together.

Shneed