Mystery roll of film

Tonight, as I watched the horrific images on television, I felt this overwhelming realization that there is no room for weakness. I miss being able to be weak. And, I suspect all of these people miss it, too. The courage and strength that they must have to even survive to the next moment, drains them. But, in order to survive, they have to be strong. But, they yearn to be weak. I know that they do.

I found a picture of Gordon on a roll of film that I had developed. It was from a mystery roll, one that I had found while cleaning and stacked with the rest to get developed. It brought me back to that time; on the same roll are pictures of me, in bed, bald after my first few treatments. What a horrible time that was. I lost my oldest sister then, too. Everything was falling apart at once. I had to be strong, but I needed to be weak. And, I really was weak. And, Gordon didn't look very strong.

Would Gordon have crawled to the top of our home, to wait for someone to rescue him? I don't think so. I think he'd be relieved to have an excuse to die. I'd have been in a tree, clutching my kids, cats, dogs, hell, I'd even try and clutch a hold of him. But, he'd have pried my hands from his and just gone. Why did he let go? Why do I not let go? I can't let go. I have to stay strong, but sometimes, yearn to be weak. I yearn to be held and comforted. I yearn to be cared for. Even in the images of me, in bed, after chemo, I know that I had Gordon then to care for me.

I miss being cared for. I know that is so shallow, particularly now, with so many needing care. But, I miss being weak, reliant on someone else. I have no room to be weak. I can't be weak.

Sleep is my companion, a warm bed, a good book, a dark room. Sometimes, I feel then that I am being cared for, in the night, alone, my mind and body giving way to sleep. I suspect that death was Gordon's companion, letting him be weak, like he needed to be. Death expects nothing. Death opened its arms to him, and asked nothing, just to join it forever. Did we ask too much of him? I couldn't continue to convince him to try and live. It was exhausting convincing him that life was worth living and trying for. And, that two amazing kids were more than enough reasons to keep on trying. Trying to be strong, when you are really weak.