This morning when I woke up, the weirdest sensation came over me. I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t happy, I was just alive and staring at the ceiling and thought, I’m alone. I woke up on George’s side of the bed and imagined that I was laying on him. Then I realized it was almost noon and I should really get going to work…
I decided to make myself a juice for brunch. I hadn’t made a fresh juice in a really long time, and I always get tons of vegetables delivered to my apartment on Mondays from the co-op. So I made a carrot, spinach, pear and kiwi juice. It really knocked the numbness out of me, to be honest. I drank that juice and felt really good. So good. Borderline happy. My thoughts were clear, my mood was stabilized and I think I only cried on the tail end of my ride to work, which is an enormous improvement, seeing that I usually cry from the moment I leave my complex to the time I pull into the parking spot at work about 45 minutes later…
This evening, I went to bereavement yoga at the hospice, which was basically described to me as geriatric yoga. For half of the class we were doing breathing and stretching exercises in the chair. I did them, but I admit I thought it was really a waste of time. But at the very end of the class I felt incredibly relaxed and rejuvenated. I cried a little bit during one of the breathing exercises at the end, but something the yoga instructor said really resonated with me. She said, in order to pass high school, you have to take tests. In order to pass in life, you have to overcome challenges. Grief is the ultimate challenge and a chapter in your life. It won’t be easy, but like every test or chapter, there’s a beginning- a middle- and end. I really liked that for some reason. I plan on going to bereavement yoga again next week, because I haven’t cried tonight and my mental mood is really strong.
As I mentioned, I haven’t cried tonight, but I got a strange email. It’s time to decide on whether I want to renew George’s cryobank. Before George started doing Chemo about 5 years ago, he froze some of his sperm while it was still good. I decided awhile back that I never want to have kids. But now with him being gone, and this being the last genetic link to him, I’m having second thoughts… I don’t want to have kids, but IF I WERE to have children, I’d want George to be the father. But how do you explain to a kid that their father was already dead when they were conceived? I don’t plan on impregnating myself this year, and probably not next year either. But I’d like to keep the option open. To spin off of yesterday’s post about dating, what happens if I meet a really wonderful person and explain to him that I want to have my dead husband’s child? Isn’t that a bit weird? Thinking about having a little George running around does warm me up… but I also really dislike babies and kids under the age of 10 years old. I think I’ll renew the cryobank, because I can’t even imagine ridding the world of the last genetic piece of the sweetest man ever.
I actually found this really funny paragraph George wrote about his frozen sperm:
“I am a Cancer Survivor with a very rare cancer. I continue to participate clinical trials at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. Trial participants are strongly encourage to “bank their sperm.” The side effect of these experiments can bring into question the integrety of sperm and can even create impotence.
I have some particularly awesome semen on ice at a local sperm bank. It may be the strongest and potent sperm I will ever produce again. I’m not saying…but ah, you know it is nice to have an option. These cryobanks charge a yearly fee to keep it frozen using some sort of nitrogen freezing method. So when people started asking what I wanted for my birthday…this is the first thing that came to mind.”