Weird Thoughts for Dying
Has your mind ever raced around weird thoughts? Things that you feel your mind should never touch or think?
I see a beautiful dress in the store window. I would love to have something pretty that fits. But that would be wasting money we really don't have to spend, plus it's wasteful to buy something I could only wear a month or two. There are more important things to spend money on. Simple pleasures no longer exist.
My mind runs back and forth between resentment and guilt. I resent the things I have to waste time on and then feel guilty for thinking that way. I want to say, “Hey, I’m dying and it’s all about me now.” But the sad truth is – it’s not. It’s not about me. I have so little time left and, bless his heart, I married a man who is clueless about raising children and clueless about taking care of himself and others. That’s my fault. I’ve always been the caregiver. I like taking care of people. And I do it exceptionally well. Too well! I take care of people so well that they never have to learn to do it themselves. I’m exceptionally organized and execute almost everything perfectly. I could have been a great wedding planner. I chose instead to become a reporter and then a personal assistant to a CEO. Later, I built my own home business. Now, I’m good for practically nothing except dumping a lot of worry and management of items onto my husband.
I resent having to shop for and plan my own cremation. I resent having to go to appointments alone because my husband just started a part-time job after two years of unemployment. We just cannot afford for him to lose it because I have doctor appointments and surgery coming up. I resent that most of my family is incapable of being reliable. And I think, “Did I make them that way by being so efficient at managing everything?” I resent that I had to send my baby boy (age 19) away to become a Marine, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him being taken care of. He’s my only responsible child, and I need to know he is taken care of before I die. I resent loving my family so much that I still put them first. And I feel so guilty about all that resentment, and I feel so lonely because I cannot cry to them about it. And I feel guilty because I want to cry about it. I want to cry all the time, but I selfishly do not want to waste what little time I have left – crying about it.
I miss looking nice. My hair loss has made pretty hair a by-gone dream. My extreme weight loss, over 100 pounds, has made dressing up in my nicer clothes impossible, and lack of funds prevents me buying anything that fits well. Plus I hate to waste money on nice clothes when I’m going to die and they will just be thrown away, any how. I want to do so many things and want to have a few small luxuries, but I cannot justify spending money on anything when I’m just going to die and it will be given away or thrown away afterwards. It feels like everything is too disposable, including me.
I want to surround myself with my loved ones. Isn’t that what anyone would want at this point? But realistically, it’s just not feasible. People have top work, especially in this economy. Their job is like a wall of bricks, and they are but just one brick in the wall. And there are thousands of other bricks just waiting for them to crumble a little bit, or loosen up, or fall away from the wall – so the next brick can jump in and take over that spot. Family members work, have children to raise, have businesses to run. They cannot just take off time from life to die with you.
I bet most people think that if they knew they only had a few months to live that they would sell everything and take a trip around the world. Or they would do and see the things they always wanted to do. Maybe the darker ones would attempt to kill those who did them wrong or tormented them over the years. Or some might even think about robbing a bank or casino, so they could have money to blow for those last days. Sadly, the economy took away any chance at big dreams. And when it comes down to it, I don’t have any big dreams to fulfill – I just want to be with my family and people who understand and want to be with me while I die. I resent it because it tends to be too much to ask. Then I feel guilty about resenting it. Then I resent it even more because I have to feel guilty about it. It’s so unfair. Is it too much to ask for a few happy moments in these last few months?
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