I remember that the days leading up to Lou’s surgery were very cold.
It was December, and winter was most definitely in full swing in Utah. And, the fact that I didn’t have the right kind of clothing only made everything in my life seem more frigid. But it was mostly our circumstances that froze me to the core.
I understood that Lou’s doctors had to present people with the absolute worst possibilities to ensure that patients and their loved ones understood the inherent risks of surgery of any kind. I think it’s wise to understand the variables so you can be prepared. It’s just that preparing for the exact variables the doctors had presented to us made everything on my mind deeply overwhelming to me.
So I’ll just write what I was trying to imagine: What if Lou didn’t make it out of the surgery? What then? What would happen to me?
Henry and Jim didn’t exactly employ Lou yet — even though we were all betting everything on the fact that they would be soon. And so up to this point, Lou and I were relying on these two incredible men to support us with the belief that Lou was going to heal up, and then be the best CEO on the planet. Lou was going to take that start-up from zero to hero in no time! That’s what we all wanted…
But I had to admit things to myself to make them real, and if Lou couldn’t do all of that for Henry and Jim — for whatever reason — would they abandon me?
Would I be on my own?
Should I back out of the lease on that condo?
Should I tell the truck driver with all of our belongings on his flatbed to pull over?
As much as I didn’t want to think about those kinds of things, I couldn’t stop myself. I already felt so vulnerable for so many reasons, and piling on felt strangely empowering to me. I wanted to be in charge of imagining the worst-case scenarios so life couldn’t surprise me with the gutting reality of loss. I wanted to face my worst fears so that I could see how or if there was a way for me to survive on my own — without Lou.
That thought terrified me…
Surviving together was how we’d made it so far. Would I be able to do it all on my own? I wanted to believe that I could. But when I tried to picture my life without Lou, suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the fact that my life was fully in motion, and I was in over my head… And the more I entertained my fears, the more I worried that my thoughts were proving that I could or would give up on my husband… And, on us.
Those two thoughts made me heave with sadness.
So I just danced around my fears, hoping that I wasn’t powerful enough to jinx my life by trying to leap ahead for answers I could cling to in case I had to face the most horrible realities I could imagine.
I cried myself to sleep the night before Lou’s surgery. I sat out on the sofa in Henry’s basement, and tried to make my body feel warmer under a thick blanket. I remember when the tears started to fall, they felt hot, and they stung my cheeks. I think I was allowing grief to seep into my consciousness just so if something did happen, the loss wouldn’t blindside me so horribly.
I was grieving the loss of Lou in my life because I felt like I was slowly losing him already, and I was afraid we’d never find each other again. Our survival had sucked out all of the goodness in our connection, and surviving seemed to have left us both empty, sad, and alone.
By the time Lou woke up, I was back in the bed next to him. I had been watching him sleep for a few hours, trying to find the courage in me to be everything I could be for Lou that day. But my soul felt brittle and totally void. The only thing I could honestly find in me was love. I knew I loved Lou.
