People We Count On

I miss my uncle.  I miss him often, but particularly on days like this one when I am unsettled, anxious, tense, worried.   For many years, he was my person.  Sometimes I feel guilty that I miss him so much more than I miss either parent, but to be honest, it's not even close.   Bill was my friend, my mentor, my hero, my godfather and my confidante.   I adored him; I loved his company; we made one another laugh --  and I sought his counsel.  I miss him.

Today, I'm better, but yesterday I was rattled, anxious, disturbed.  After a serene 2 1/2 years, after reaching a time when I so rarely thought about him,  my ex-husband (T) zipped back into my life.   After an on-and-off 28 years, his departure and the arrival of my Sudden Cardiac Arrest (SCA) were nearly simultaneous.  So sometimes I may  have trouble sorting out what parts of my new life are due to SCA and Skippy the implanted defibrillator, and what parts are attributable to the post-T life.   Either way, I love this life of mine.  I live where and how I want to live, anxiety pops up only now and then.  For most of my T years, anxiety was nearly constant.  What a state of affairs that the anxiety of an alcoholic ex-husband is more difficult to manage than that of a heart that has taken to stopping, and a defibrillator in my chest wall that may shock the crap out of me one day.  It made me laugh out loud when I realized that.  My happy but so-called life.  

But much less fun was yesterday and the day before - the day the ex zips back in with harsh legal news and facts and worries - this is when I almost literally reach for the phone to call Bill.  It took me over a day to sort out what my reaction and response would be, what I was comfortable doing and what I would not do.  It's difficult to detach totally when the ex's need is this acute and the stakes are this high.  This was my husband; this was 28 years.  It's hard.  I needed Bill.

In the end, I decided I could make one phone call to T.  I could make other calls to some family and former friends.  I called a former sponsor.  I encouraged each of them to call T.  My one phone call to T was to blow out his secret - to tell him everyone knew this current story and to ask that he at least think about taking the call from the wonderful former sponsor.   And to wish him the best.
Predictably, T then called me multiple times, but I have finally learned my lessons. I respect my own boundaries.  I understand my limits.  I wish him well and hope he finds his way.  I did what I can do.  It's as far as I go.  Those lines don't have cracks in them anymore.

Bill would ask if my life were now joyous, free and surrounded by people whom I enjoy and who care about me - yes, yes and then again yes.  Bill would remind me softly that trading in my today life for any part of this past would be a monstrously poor choice - that I have seen that movie and I know how it ends.

So I miss my uncle, but he's here, here in my very sensibility.  I feel like I took my time, sorted out my options, made my choices - and turned to look over my shoulder to see Bill nodding his gentle assent.  Years after his death, I still count on him.  And I remain so grateful for him.