Surreal

Tomorrow after work, my boyfriend and I will be visiting his aunt. Her husband was Bill. Just thinking about her last night brought me to tears. I can't even imagine, and I don't want to imagine being in her shoes. It was so sudden. People always say that but it's true. He fell down a few stairs, hit his head, and was in a coma. His brain was bleeding. There was no hope of recovery. The decision was made by the doctors to take him off life support. Apparently the accident happened around two in the morning on Saturday night/Sunday morning. My boyfriend and I were at the hospital with Bill and the family from about 5:00 AM. It was the worst 9 hours of my life. I can't imagine what it was like for his wife and children, and mother. His elderly mother took a flight here to watch her 55 year old son die. Bill's wife loved him so much. She was wailing and crying so hard she couldn't breathe. Her chest hurt. Because he was ripping her heart out. That's what she said. She leaned over his body and cried over and over, "don't do this to me, I can't do this, don't leave me". The most heart-wrenching thing I've ever seen. Thinking about it now is making me really cry. It was all so surreal. He was just lying there, but there was no visible injuries and his life support kept him breathing regularly and his blood pumping, so he looked...healthy. So it was hard to accept that he wasn't really there anymore. I heard the doctor say that only his brain stem was functioning. We were all there when he took his last breath. That was hard. Really, really hard.

His wife is not handling this so well. When people come over to see her, she just stays locked away in her bedroom and she won't stop crying. I don't know what to say to her. How we can make it better for her.

I didn't know I was going to write about this. But I don't really talk about it with anyone.

Truth

The funeral was on Friday. It was at the Legion. The most important portion of the service was the contributions made by family and friends who shared a little piece of how their lives had been touched by this man.

We heard from a son just how much his father meant to him. We heard about those lectures that went on and on, every weekend, and how they always ended with "I love you" and then were forgotten about - until next weekend.

We heard from a step-daughter who couldn't speak without sobbing about this man who was no longer here. Who let us all know how lucky she had been to have had two sets of parents.

We heard stories from a friend about how this man never complained, ever. Not about living with one arm paralyzed after a run-in with a moose. Not about his night-blindness that he knew would eventually steal his vision altogether.

We heard humorous stories from more than one person about how he would walk into inanimate objects and apologize to them.

And we heard from the man that was first married to his wife. We heard how this man called up "the ex" and directly asked where he stood with him. How he always asked for his input on raising his step-daughter. And we heard how grateful he was that this man came into his ex-wife's life. How grateful he was to have found a new friend.

This was Bill. I met him when I was a teenager. He was my best friend's step-dad. But it wasn't until I moved to this city that I came to know him. I was apprehensive about spending time with him because most of what I knew of him came from the angst of a teen. To be honest, I was pretty sure he was a bully and a big jerk.

Many years later I would see him again at my best friend's wedding. This also happened to be where I met her close cousin, now my boyfriend of six years. I was completely taken aback at how welcome Bill made me feel. I wasn't in the wedding party. I didn't hold this against her. I was living in a different province after all, and honestly, we had grown apart over the years. But Bill seemed to take it personally, and he just wouldn't let it go. He could not understand why I was not the maid-of-honour. I was secretly pleased.

I will never forget how he tried to shelter me from his nephew. Everybody watched and laughed as my best friend's cousin would inch closer and closer to me on the couch, and I would inch closer and closer to the edge of the couch until there was no where left for me to go. How Bill, half joking, half serious, told him to "leave her alone! She's a nice girl!" How he told me over and over how beautiful I was, inside and out. This changed as he got to know me of course, but he always let me know that he cared. He always made me feel like I was a part of his family.

Even on those bad nights.

Over time, my opinionated-nature came out around Bill, who was also very opinionated. And stubborn. And sometimes a little belligerent when drinking. I was not the only one left with memories of arguments, some more bitter than others. I remember one night, we were all drinking at his house, and somehow Bill and I got into it over something I don't even remember. Whatever it was, it resulted in Bill saying something pretty mean, that really touched a nerve. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried until Bill somehow unlocked the door and hugged me and took it all back.

It was impossible to hold a grudge against Bill. It's true that I had once again become a little apprehensive about spending time with him. You just never knew what would come out of his mouth next. But this didn't change what I had come to know as his truth.

And his truth was love. Whatever else happened, you always knew that one fact.

That he loved. A lot. And he was loved. A lot. And that's a truth that will never die.

We love you Bill.

Doppelganger

So a couple of days ago I forced myself to ask a coworker if she was interested in going out on the weekend. I went and bought the tickets yesterday, and tonight we went to see Matthew Barber, with guests Zachary Lucky and Amy Seeley, at this little hidden gem of a music venue. Just before leaving for the show, when I was desperately trying to find something to wear, I thought, why did I do this? I just wanted to crawl into bed and stay there. But I'm glad I went. Matthew Barber was delicious to listen to, and not bad to look at either. The only unfortunate thing? In person, he looked uncannily like my ex.

I have not seen my ex since we broke up six years ago. I was just thinking about him the other day. My boyfriend had asked me if I still loved him. I gave him an awkward but honest answer, which was, how can anyone be sure until they've come face-to-face once again? A person could go years pining over someone they have loved and lost, and then suddenly come face-to-face with Him and realize that all this time they had simply been in love with a memory; that when it came to the real thing, the magic that had held them together was gone. I believe it goes the other way too. A person could go years believing that they are over it, that they are no longer in love, and then suddenly come face-to-face with Him and in that heart-crushing moment realize that moving on was only an illusion brought on by absence.

My reaction to His doppelganger up there on that stage, when he sat down to the piano, and sang his beautiful songs, with the beautiful face and hands and body of Him, took me off-guard. I couldn't help but cry, just a little bit, as I tried ever so hard to look anywhere but at Him. Worse, was that I seemed to be in his direct line of vision. It felt like we kept making eye-contact and every time we did, I wanted to hide under my table and cry like a baby. Well, in all honesty, I alternated between that, and wanting to jump up on to the stage for a tackle-hug.

What does it mean? That I'm still being stalked by His memory? A not-so-subtle hint that I haven't really moved on?

Or something more?