Late Night Panic / Archaeological Find

Earlier in the week the chain to my urn necklace broke. I tried to fix it, but the rope chain is far too intricate to repair. I had put it on the shelf next to Michael's urn, thinking that I would get around to replacing the chain.

Tonight when I came up to my room I realized that I was needing to prepare for my first day on the new job. I began looking through my clothing, making sure I had something to wear. Not knowing the atmosphere of the office, I decided I better play it kind of conservative, and wear a long sleeve dress shirt, covering my various tattoos. When I pictured myself getting ready for work I realized that I needed my urn necklace.

I started going through all of my things, desperately looking for an alternate chain to use. I still haven't unpacked many of our things, as I decided only to open the boxes that had essentials. When I couldn't find what I needed I made another last minute attempt to repair the chain. Logic told me this was impossible, but try to tell that to a crazy man, and it is of little help. After 30 minutes of frustrating attempts at repairing the chain I was back on my quest to find another chain. I knew that I had others, and I new the Michael had a couple that he wore. But where in the hell did I put them?

I began looking through some of the boxes that were easily accessible. I found all kinds of things, but not any chains. I began to panic. Really panic. I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. Isn't this crazy? I stopped myself, and calmed down. Then I started my ridiculous search once again. This time I found myself in tears.

Now really Dan, is this behavior necessary?

I have never been one to need objects such as this to keep me grounded, or together. I know that I keep Michael close in my heart, so is it really necessary to keep him hanging around my neck? In the middle of this my daughter called to check in with me. Of course I lied, and said I was fine when she inquired about how I was doing. I told her that I was trying to find a replacement chain, and was having no luck, but completely washed over the emotional reaction I was having at the time. I think she sensed that my mind was focused on finding a chain, and she ended her call short.

I reopened another box, and began searching through all the small things that used to go into our bedside tables. This was a big mistake. More tears. Why the hell do I do this? I began looking at all the little things that made up our life together. So many of the things I found have not crossed my mind in such a long time. They are things that we used, needed, as a couple, that I don't need now that I am by myself. One in particular was a book light. I used to do a lot of reading. I used to stay up very late into the night reading while Michael slept. I no longer read much at all. I have given up this pleasure. If I do decide to read at night, there is nobody around to disturb. I no longer have need for a book light.

I feel so tormented by all of this. It's almost like my room has become a bit of an archaeological site. The more I dig, the more I find these artifacts from a past life. These artifacts were once useful tools that benefited a marriage. Today they have no use. They are no longer connected to the place where they are found. I won't throw them away, as they are reminders of a life once lived. They speak of how two individuals lived as a couple, moving about in cooperation. They serve as a reminder of how each person was sensitive to the needs of the other. They tell me that this couple loved each other, and that their life together had meaning.

In the end I put the broken urn necklace back on the book shelf. I will look for a replacement chain tomorrow. Maybe it's a time to re-examine the need to wear such a necklace. Is this just one more way that I am holding on too firmly to the past? For now, I needed something to soothe me. I went back to the bookshelf, picked up my wedding ring, and placed it back on my ring finger. I must admit, it feels lovely to have it back on. It feels at home there. I just don't know if it is the right way to meet new people tomorrow. I may just be setting myself up for assumptions about my life that I may not wish to have there later. Perhaps I will transfer it to my other hand in the morning, or perhaps it will find itself back on the bookshelf before I leave.

For now, I am feeling calmer.