My daily commute is generally my time for reflection. This morning, as usual, I travelled the twenty minutes to work deep in thought, and during the course of this, I had two important realizations. The first is that my papaw is dying. He's been sick for a long time, and he has ups and downs, but always gets better. So since his latest illness, I've been telling myself he's going to get better, he always does. But it finally hit me this morning that this is the last time. I've been pushing it out of my mind, ignoring what everyone has been telling me about how there's nothing more the doctors can do, they're putting him in hospice, but it's going to be a long time...Then like everything does, it hit me in the car, alone, and I started crying. I realized that it's too late to talk to him about all the things I've been meaning to talk to him about and to visit all the times I've meant to visit.
The second is that I'm no longer fantasizing about suicide. I don't give off a suicidal vibe. Most people who know me don't realize how intensely depressed I can and have gotten at different times over the last couple of years. When I was contemplating leaving the ex, I frequently considered what would happen if I ran off the road and died. Would my kids be better off without me? Would anyone even care? Did I care? The fact that I couldn't definitively answer yes to the first question is the only thing that kept me from doing it. That and the fact that I wasn't sure if I'd actually die, and after watching my parents suffer from injuries from car accidents, I didn't really want to go through all that.
So this morning I hydroplaned a little. And I corrected and it was all good. But it hit me that I didn't have a brief moment of relief at the thought that this might be it. And that in fact, I hadn't contemplated it for a long time. Because even as frustrated as I got with HHF's divorce, and my job, overall, life is worth it. And at this point, it feels like it always will be.