It is a fact in this new orbit in which we spin - that Kirk and I are on very different rides. Selling and buying a home is stressful and emotionally draining at the best of times - but for obvious reasons - this time has an added girth to it - does not inspire the same enthusiasm as when we were moving up, not down the property ladder. In addition, this process is being accompanied simultaneously by one million different decisions and tasks to wrap up other unfinished business in our lives that are difficult to face - each of them a clear reminder of my mortality - that time is not on my side at the moment.
We struggle with our words, not to blame one another when it becomes clear we are not in the same place. So while it's been a week full of new information and big strides...meetings and appointments that put everything in a little more focus - sharpen the edges - make the way forward a lot more clear - what feels like ticking boxes and finished business to me - is experienced very differently by Kirk. What I perceive as a finality to some of the arrangements that I thought were necessary - victories of sorts that put my racing mind at ease - does not inspire the same peace or excitement in Kirk - just a sort of resignation, a deep sadness for what it all represents. It is the proverbial elephant in the room...the loss of me and now the prospect with every potential property we see that it is a space that he will ultimately live in alone. I talk about it with a sort of matter-of-fact practicality that seems perfectly reasonable to me - but inspires little comment from Kirk. And I understand - truly I do - why it is this way - why I can't bring myself to feel the sorrow of it all - because if I did, I would not stop - wouldn't be able to pick myself up off the floor long enough to make myself do the things I still need to do to get things settled...to feel like I can spare him some of the hurdles that might prevent him from being comfortable - sparing him some of the big decisions that he might otherwise face alone. But my desire - in my normal steam-roller style - to make it all happen - yesterday if possible - is pushing Kirk in a way that sometimes feels cruel - like something he has gone along with - but his heart is elsewhere. He is getting no time to absorb this - just an avalanche every time he comes home from work of developments I can't seem to spare him from. What I am trying to do for him - is like imparting something unwelcome. There is simply no room for celebration right now. I want this to be wrapped up nicely and he is still looking at what is inside the box and mourning it - and at times like these - unprecedented times - the fact that he has been as patient as he has - continued to go to work each day as if a landslide is not bearing down on us - launched his annual United Way fundraising efforts - worked harder on our home to get it ready than I can describe...fills me with an appreciation for him that I struggle to articulate. He is one in a million - he simply doesn't want the absence of me to be hurried along and can do nothing to stop it. And that is the one thing I can not spare him.