Just Not Fair

Periodically, I find myself uttering "Just Not Fair" and while not fully sure what I mean, it makes sense to me and perhaps lets me move on from the reason why I said it.

This weekend, knowing that Gregory was fully covered by helpers Manny and Alaksh, and while knowing that he is always very happy to see me, he would probably not realize my absence; I decided to go to Battle Creek to visit his family over the Easter weekend.

Besides getting to see the family, I looked forward to my first getaway in over a year! Just knowing I could get into the car and take off, with relatively no worries, stop when I wanted to for lunch, antique shop along the way, and get to spend time with people I love was wonderful. The food was good (Colleen is a great cook) and I slept well. Shared a lot of conversation with everyone and laughed a lot.

But driving the four hours and passing so many places that Gregory and I used to comment on or stop at found me muttering, "This is just not fair!" Visiting without him at my side, even when in the past it was getting more and more difficult, is something I would love to be able to do again. Just not fair that Gregory will never again be able to go to Michigan to visit his family. Just not fair that we will not be able to stop in Michigan City at the Antique Market Mall. Just not fair that we will not be able to visit "Chocolate World."

I find that when I am able to separate now and then, I do well. When I do not think about Gregory when I am without him, I do OK. When I do not think about the rest of my life and the life we had together while I am with him, I do OK. But when the two cross over, the tears rise and at times overflow.

When I am at Lieberman giving him a manicure, or watching South Pacific again (and again,) or helping him with dinner, or just holding hands; I can hold my own if I do not think of home, my current life, or the past.

When I am at home I enjoy the solitude of the condo; the ability to easily take care of myself without having to do much planning; choosing when, what, and where I want to have a meal; I can hold my own if I do not think of Gregory and Lieberman.

When I am truly able to live in the "here and now," much like Gregory is able to do, I can hold my own.

But over the Easter weekend, I found myself saying "This just isn't fair" a number of times as I helped bring family up to date on Gregory's situation, at the Easter dinner so lovingly and beautifully prepared and served, when I rolled over in bed in "our room" at Mark and Colleen's realizing that Gregory was not there with me.

There are so many "This just isn't fair's" that I could make along list. But I choose not to do so here or to do so now because I would not be able to hold my own and I need to!