I tried to cheer you up. But I couldn’t. The day you came back from a doctor’s appointment with some medicine, you sent me out to buy you a thermometer. You didn’t like it because it was digital. Professionals couldn’t seem to help. None of the specialists gave you hope.
When I tried to give you my hope you laughed. I guess it was the depression.
It made me mad.
If you only would have gotten through February you might have seen growth in the longer days of March. You said you needed to strengthen paraspinal muscles in lumbar area. I didn’t want to learn about your body I wanted to connect with you.
You went to the pain support group and you said, “ No one should get used to pain.” The chiropractor, the physio, the family doctor, the specialists, the osteo injection treatment, the arthritis centre didn’t help you get better.
After over a year, you wouldn’t go out of the house except for appointments. You let your garden go. I was frustrated visiting you, although the Scrabble games were always topnotch. I had too much to do. I could not let you drag me into your abyss. I left, feeling selfish and cruel.
Your partner never get out of his pajamas, and your son was miles away living his own problems.
If I ever find myself in a place where knowledge is subverted and affliction sublimated maybe I will finally make sense of what we have been through. Until that time you hover.
I will see you in the star that makes up start again. And think of you every time I summon the courage to throw in all my Scrabble tiles.