(Neil Young reference)
I am doing this to document the time leading up to surgery. I want to listen to it when all is said and done, if I get the opportunity to do so.
I will be in my cocoon of coma for most of what happens, and others, my family, my friends, they will bear the brunt of all of this, and I speak of them as if they have cameo roles.
Nothing could be further from the truth, of course. I am the bit player, actually. I am reminded of an old movie, The Big Chill, I believe it was, where some aging hippies get together to mourn the loss of one of their group, and that guy, the dead guy, is cut out of the movie altogether. If memory serves, it was supposed to be Kevin Costner’s first movie, and they snipped him away to the cutting room floor. I could be mistaken about the particulars and even about the spelling.
But I remember the movie, and remember that the dead guy, around whose death they are ostensibly gathered, has nothing to do with the film at all.
It is about the living and breathing and thinking and moving. It is not about the dead guy.
And so it really is with my predicament. As I get closer, and as I read the literature I should have ignored, I admit that anxiety increases a bit. But I know, or at least remember, that this will not be about me, but about those who rally around me.
They will suffer emotional pain beyond which any physical pain I experience will pale. They will worry, and they will walk. They will pace and they will ponder. They will do this and still find a way to come together and to make each other stronger. That is what they do. That is what my family does. That is what my friends do. They come together. They make each other stronger.
I am so very lucky to have them. Not just for me, not just because they worry about me, but because they make it so that I don’t have to worry about them. They will take care of each other.
And, when the time comes, I will sleep.