Fourteen and a half months

Sandy has now been dead as long as she lived with the knowledge (or even the suspicion) that she had metastatic breast cancer.

At about 10:00 the evening of May 6, 2010, we listened to a phone message about the chest X-ray she'd had earlier that day, which showed areas of concern in her lungs. I remember that life-changing moment vividly. The fourteen and a half months that followed are much sharper in my memory than most of my life before them.

I strongly associate walking sticks with Sandy, and it's weird
to realize she used them less than a year. Less than the time
she's now been dead. (She never has them in my dreams.)

During that period, my senses were heightened: I was afraid much of the time. I was relieved whenever we received good news, distraught when we received bad. I was deeply grateful for every moment I spent with Sandy and especially for every moment that she felt good enough to embrace life. I was focused on her wellbeing, and on finding us a path to wellness. Though the time was much too short, my memories from that span are rich and the time seems long.

In contrast, the year-plus since she died is but a blurry blip. Each day stretches endlessly, yet I never seem to make any progress on my goals. Though the hours plod mercilessly, the weeks and months fly by, without much to mark them. My senses are dulled.

Time feels warped, as do my memories. Contributing to my odd state is the frequent sense that Sandy is here. Even when I don't have visitation dreams, she's often in my regular dreams, with us just being ourselves together. I need that; I feel more grounded by it. But it also makes her death even harder to reconcile.

Someone wrote in a tribute after Sandy died that she had had a "long battle" with cancer, and I thought at the time that it wasn't long, that it had been far too short. Now that she's been dead for as long as that battle took place, I'm even more certain that it wasn't long at all.

Nada update: This is day 6, and he's still energetic and obnoxious, so I think the emergency vet was right and he's going to be fine. Thank you to those who extended support!