Welcome to Woody’s CaringBridge Site
Sign In to Show Your SupportI started to post this on Facebook and then thought . . . maybe this is in fact a CaringBridge post.
I haven't posted a life update in a while because I pride myself on being able to make a good story out of anything . . . and I'm not sure my tale of needless complications, incompetence, and relentless wheel-squeaking will entertain anyone. But I am a woman of parts, so let's go.
First, I had the WEIRDEST dream about Woody last night. I've been waiting and waiting for a beautiful visitation in which he lets me know how cheerful and whole and healed he is in his new . . . what's the word? existence, persona, beingness? Whatever the afterlife comprises.
Instead I got this:
Woody was still home and still very sick, and while I was pretty clear that we were reaching the end of this medical journey, he still seemed to believe that he would recover. In my dream, things had gone so far that HIS HEAD HAD BEEN REMOVED FROM HIS BODY and each was operating independently, so I had both a head and a body to tend to – and on this day, dream day, he was quite put-upon; did I not understand how he was SUFFERING? For example, he says, pointing to his dismembered head, his tooth is inflamed and hurts SO BAD, it's really quite excruciating. And THEN – he gestures to his knee – his knee is swollen and extremely painful and he cannot walk at all. (I mean – he probably shouldn't be walking anyway, without a head and all.)
I said, Hon, have you mentioned this to a DOCTOR? I think we need to see a doctor. He reluctantly agrees.
(In real life, it is very much in character for Woody to do a ton of Internet research, diagnose himself, and refuse to call a doctor. It is very UNLIKE him to keep his symptoms to himself for so long; he liked me to know exactly how much he was suffering. Bless him, bless him.)
So, we get to the doctor, I'm in a waiting room for a while, and they finally call me in to see him – and it looks like his head is back on his body. "You reattached his head??" I said, in some wonderment – I mean, I was pretty sure that ship had sailed. "No, no," says the nurse – but here's me looking at his head, which is right above his shoulders where it should be, no gap at all – and just then Woody decides he can get up, arises from the bed, and instantly face-plants and gets a nosebleed.
About this point I woke up.
What does it all mean???
I've been missing my husband a lot this week and have teared up almost every day because . . . well, here's what's going on.
WOODY'S COMPUTER
But also:
I no longer have any need or use for his laptop, so I gave it to Microcenter for recycling.
His computer. One of the items in his life most closely connected to who he was and what he did. It felt like saying goodbye to one of his limbs.
Which . . . oh, okay. The dismembered head is making a little more sense now.
Oh, and also: In the time that my darling was working on this book, someone else has published a book with the exact same title. It doesn't seem to have been a big seller and it's not in any of my local library systems (and the cheapest copy on Bookfinder.com is hundreds of dollars), so I dunno if that means Wood's book is a nonstarter – but it's definitely one reason I've not been hugely motivated to get moving on this.
So that's thing 1.
WOODY'S PHONE
I've kept this (and continued to pay for service) because I thought his computer might have two-factor authentication on it, requiring his phone. (I was able to crack that password. My darling is adorably consistent.) But it did not and I have no use for this device, so I'm recycling it this week (and it's new enough that I'll get a little credit at the Apple store, which is nice).
But: His phone. The thing he held in his hand every blessed day of his life. Yet another extension of him that I'm saying goodbye to. (Yes, I see you dismembered head. Got it, thanks.)
They are just things. They are not him. I don't need them and have no reason to keep them. It's all good, I feel fine about "releasing" them.
(Do you remember that "release" is my word for 2024? I do not love this word, but boy have I reflected on it this week.)
And yet. And yet. It is wrenching, and I am weeping.
WOODY'S STUDY
His study is now Melanie's bedroom, and it looks stunning, she is happy, that was a very very good move.
We moved the bazillion books in his study to the larger basement room, I've dutifully been packing them up, 30 smallish boxes at a time, and Bob the Book Guy has been here twice and comes again today. I predict I'll call Bob at least three more times. But slowly, slowly one half of the room has resurfaced; the end is in sight. I mean: you have to be wicked farsighted to see it, but still. In SIGHT!
And that leaves an empty room upstairs, Mel's former bedroom, which will ultimately be my study. It had sustained some water damage over the years and badly needed a new coat of paint as well, so I had my guys come out about a month ago to get started.
And honestly, I think I can make a good case to State Farm that I'm doing my very best to take care of my house and prevent future damage and also that I was half out of my mind for the past two years taking care of my dying husband, and I'm such a longtime customer, could they please find it in their heart to help me with some of these bills – again, given that some of them are preventive in nature and some are to make my house more environmentally sound, all of which is a good thing that supports their overall mission? It's worth a shot, anyway. All I can do is ask.
IN CONCLUSION
How'd I do? Were you entertained? Ha.
It's been quite a ride. Someday I'll have a beautiful study. Someday my basement will be a lovely and usable space again. Someday I will have moved out all of Woody's things that I don't need and preserved the things of his I've chosen to keep, arranged in a way that brings me joy and allows me to revel in happy memories.
But that day is not today. Today I have 30 boxes of books to move to my driveway and two phones to recycle (yes, two – Woody neglected to recycle his former phone when he got the new one, which is very on-brand for him) and a BF to call – and if I don't reach Chantelle today, I'm going to her boss again. Eventually Chantelle will learn that she ignores me at her peril.
All will be well. Someday.
❤️💔
14 Hearts • 10 Comments