As I was driving to San Jose for a visit on Saturday, August 8, 2020, it occurred to me that this was a date I should remember. I thought on it and realized it was six years ago on this date when George and I experienced our last “normal” day together. The next day, August 9, is the day our lives would turn upside down with a cancer diagnosis . . . and we would never experience this type of normal again.
I tried to remember back to that day. It was a Friday, so I would have been off
work. It is likely that I was using the
day to run errands, do things around the house as that is what I would have
done on a “normal” Friday. I had that
day to myself as Mom would have been at SarahCare for the day. George would have been at work for at least a
half day, finishing up his hours for the week.
When he returned home from work, he was likely in the garage or his
office making up the list of wood he needed from Southern Lumber. The wood he would need to start building a
double Adirondack chair for our backyard.
The next day we had plans to go to Southern Lumber to purchase the wood
so he could build it. But, honestly, I
cannot remember what I did that day. It
was just another day, another normal day.
The kind that we don’t need to remember.
The kind of day when nothing significant happens so we just lump it
together with all the other normal days.
There are many thousands of days that I don’t remember
throughout my life. Sometimes when I
talk to people I grew up with or went to school with, they will recall certain
details, maybe even vividly, of things that happened. I oft wonder where on earth I was that I have
absolutely no idea what they are talking about.
I do not remember any such thing.
I’ve told myself it’s because whatever was going on was just another
typical, normal day. And most of us
recall things based on something that stands out, that was so different that we
think we’ll never forget it. Some of us
do remember, others of us do not. Our
brains are so tricky here.
So, when trying to recollect what happened on Friday, August
8, 2014, it is no surprise that I don’t remember the events of the day.
On Saturday, August 9, 2014, I can remember almost every
single detail. We had opportunity to
remember that day hundreds of times in the past five or six years as it is the
day that changed our lives, changed our “normal” into something we never, ever
would have expected to happen to us.
I wish we could have had more “normal” years together. As I watch other older couples walk hand in
hand, I yearn for that feeling, for that comfort. Holding hands was normal for us. It gave us both a feeling of comfort and
security. Our “grow old along with me”
type of comfort that we thought we would have for decades. Taking walks, going on trips, all the things
of a normal marriage shattered, a “new normal” that would wax and wane and take
different shapes for the next five years.
Constantly adapting to the changes going on in George’s body required that
we not get used to anything to be consistently normal ever again.
In my new home, I haven’t yet found my new normal. With a global pandemic causing our whole
world to make changes, there is nothing normal taking place and there won’t be
for quite some time. I miss normal. I want normal. Because normal is a
predictable, unwavering process (not that there aren’t glitches) that allow us
to be at peace, to enjoy a predictable pace of life and activity. I do not know what normal will look like for
me – or how long it will take to find it.
Soon, I hope. Soon.
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