I had so many plans for "when Will dies." Plans made in the 1990s when I volunteered with Hospice.
Proven ridiculous now by my actual experience.
I had another epiphany awhile back that I haven't written about. Here's what I imagine, alternate timelinewise. If Will had died before his dementia, or say within 10 years of my hospice volunteering, I don't think I'd be such a mess still. That is if he'd died while I was working. I wouldn't have retired early, for one thing.
But that wasn't part of my epiphany. What I realized was that while Will was whole I always had a link to another universe. But once I started caring for him, he became the focus of my love as my in a way that wasn't true when he was well. My world narrowed. In the years of caring from 2014 - 2021, my eros lost its mojo as my love turned into agape.
My ability to hook up with others is gone, it seems. And I have no interest in anymore care-giving.
A cis-gender heterosexual male friend of mine noted the other day, "You're a desirable woman" and all I
could think of was John Cleese saying, through his teeth, "You're a very attractive woman" to Terry Jones' as Mrs. Brown, before asking for her liver. Fortunately, I think my friend's motivation was to encourage me to live more and that he chose a common factor of people "living their best lives," human sexuality.
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