Humnuphphmmf! Pissed at the Almighty--again

 

I thought I'd turn out to be better company for myself than this. It turns out, I can't even stand being around me. It only takes one little crisis or two to turn me back into a raging cow. When I was waist deep in caregiving duties, and life was a seemingly never ending series of unpleasant tasks, I consoled myself with the notion that nothing lasts forever. Once Sharon passed, my life would revert to some former version of itself, where I could pursue the things I previously enjoyed, unfettered.

I had times, when I was cleaning shit of the messiest variety, as would be the case with diarrhea, which would inevitably find its way into the vagina and eurethra, that seemed to go on forever. But whether I screamed or just internalized my frustration, nothing would make the event go by any quicker. Shit takes as long as it takes. Resigning yourself to that fact early on would seem to lessen the amount of time and energy you waste wishing things would go faster or differently. 

Always, no matter what, there comes a point when you are done. For the moment. In some other moment, in some future time, you may look back with sentimentality at that time, which you so desperately wished would end, and wish for it again. You'll long for the reminiscent comfort of the familiar. You'll want what you can no longer have, though when you had it, you didn't want it.

During that moment or two between shit and then next thing, I was supposed to grab some me time. Unwind or go out and blow off steam in like a normal person would do. I don't suppose I ever did. Or if I did, it didn't register, because I was so busy being pissed about what I'd just dealt with or contemplating the next obligation that I'd have to attend to. 

I was as much a prisoner of Sharon's illness as she was. Except that I could walk and perform the daily functions of life, something she never tired of reminding me about. So I had all this added burden of guilt on top of my frustration. My expectations for a happy life were being eroded as I watched my wife laying there week after week, year after year, slowly dying.

She was always good at telling me, "It could be worse." But she stopped doing that when it failed to provide any consolation. It seemed to be more of a self-fulfilling prophecy than a positive affirmation. "It will always get worse," is what she should have said. I don't know how she managed to not scream daily at God, the universe or whatever for her condition. 

I guess she had the inside scoop. Even though I'm still walking around, I can feel it happening to me, too. I learned that in life, things do get worse. Your health will get worse, things will fall apart around you, and your ability to do the things you used to enjoy will slip away. And then you will die.

Where's the consolation, then? At least I won't have to deal with broken plumbing or phones that go out whenever it rains? Or I won't have to worry about which tooth is going to break in half and require extraction? Like when you total your car and tell yourself, "At least I'm glad I didn't bother washing it last week."

And another damn thing. This whole being grateful for stuff because it can always be taken away. Really? Is that all you got, God? Some threatening parental control freak method of getting us to appreciate stuff? Gratitude at gunpoint. How authentic can that be?

How about making everything just so super-overwhelmingly over the top fucking good that we can't help but be in awe? 

None of this, "Here's your crappy oatmeal with flies in it. Oh, you don't like it? Well, how about a big bowl of NOTHING then? You like that? Now, you worship Me and praise Me and love Me because I'm so goddamn worthy. In fact, I command you!"

No, thanks. I'm out. Why can't You show up and explain stuff once in a while, like to each and every person, not just in some isolated event in a far flung region, way back in some mythical fairy tale? Why do I gotta "take it on faith?" Fuck that. Show me the money. Burden of proof's on you, Mr. Invisible Omnipresent Everything. 

We're so limited, why is it we're expected to do so much to bridge this gap which we didn't create? We were thrust here into this world, naked, innocent and ignorant of all of that super-great invisible spirit shit that we're supposedly responsible to know the rules of. 

The Bible? What? Seriously, you're going with the Bible as Your great revelation? A diluted, degraded account of some events that may or may not have happened, interpreted by one race of people, that condemns vast continents of "heathens" to eternal damnation? Please.

Nope. Bye. See ya when I see ya. And when I see ya -- You'd better have a good explanation for all this. Geez, I sound like Bill Maher and I can't even stand to listen to him. No wonder I'm such lousy company.