Alone

I am going to die.

I have said it out loud a few times but, even at that, I am not sure that my soul believes me. Even as I think of it and know I should be making plans for after I am gone, my brain says ice cream sure sounds good now doesn't it?

I didn't know until after the surgery that this fix was temporary. Maybe if I had I could have processed the thought more. Would I have believed it then? I'm really not sure.

I don't know exactly when. The first doctor that was honest with me said 1 - 3 years is the average. The research I have done online has shown me 5 -7 years, but I don't know if they had both surgeries as I have had. It changes the whole equation. I have never been one to shoot for average so I hope I will have 5 - 7.. even longer would be cool.

I have tried to talk to two people about this dying thing and both pretty much shut me down real quick with oh don't think of it that way.. I am not letting you go anywhere. Which is a nice thought but not real realistic. 

I really need to talk to someone who is facing this. I searched for help groups. I really am not seeing one that screams.. here.. come here. So, I plod on each day holding this in wishing, as I have my whole life, that I had that parent every person is supposed to be able to turn to. The one that lets you say it all, then just knows a way to make you feel better even if they can't fix anything, because they know you so well they just... know.

It is lonely to live your life alone. Surrounded by acquaintances. It is lonelier to die alone. 

I live each day with a smile on my face for Amy. She deserves more out of this life then I can give her. During this quarantine time alone with her, I have worked very hard to fill her head and heart with stuff.. memories, stories, giggles, imagination, dreams.. I know she doesn't retain most memories for very long but I hope these go to core memories and once I am gone they continue to pop up when she needs them.

I don't want her to forget me. I don't want to be forgotten.