Karl (louderback) wrote,
Karl
louderback

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Into the abyss

The ordeal of my mother's demise was extreme for me. I don't want to go into it, I never intend to talk about, write about, and, if possible, think about it again.

The minutiae of such an event are unpleasant in the extreme. I have dealt with them as I am able. There is no more for me to do but go on . I would be lying if I said my life was not simpler now.

This loss is but one of many recently. Old friends are dying, family members, others. Pieces of my own life are slipping away and I feel like I am being shredded.

I grieve tonight for my mother but find all wrapped up in that grief is the loss of my father, my vision problems, my recent surrender of my house, the irritating discoveries that seem to happen so often of things I can no longer do. I don't want to keep putting up with this but I don't know how to stop it.

Time seems not to be on my side. My ability to do the daily trivia of my life is leaving me. I discovered this evening that I can't push a push-pin into the wall of my apartment if the height is above my head. How incredibly petty. But it matters. It really matters. I feel myself sliding into the pit. How much more is there for me to lose? I noticed last week that my walk has become an old-man shuffle, wide set, toes out, knees bent, looking out for stubbed toes, unseen obstacles and waddling to maintain spatial relationship. How perfectly horrible.

I can't stop it.

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