Firth of Fifth, Genesis, Selling England By the Pound

This has to be one of my favorite Genesis songs. I think if someone wanted an example of 70’s prog rock, I might bust this one out. It’s not

This is one of the first early Genesis songs Kevin played for me in our earliest days. It’s a good example of how each of the solos build off each other. And the T1 bass on it is simply divine.

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I spent the night at my folks’ house last night because I can charge overnight there. Aside from getting to chill with my folks in the house they raised me in, I got a chance to have dinner with my parents and my boyfriends. My folks have been pretty cool about the whole Triad thing. (They’re used to me going against the grain on all sorts of things since I was a kid. To their merit, they’ve done their best to instill in me that I had their love, no matter what. I’m forever grateful that I have that kind of stability. It’s also why I’m staying close to home for the foreseeable future–I can be there for them the way they were for their parents, with the added bonus of a much better, zero drama dynamic they lacked when they were my age.) Darling works retail, so he doesn’t always get to make weekend gatherings. Plus we have a new Family Vehicle, so we wanted to show them (newer, better Leaf to travel farther distances so mine can resume being my commuter vehicle.

So now I’m going to write a little bit about people deciding to unalive themselves. If you’re not up for reading that kind of content, please stop reading and go trade funny memes with your peeps who share your sense of humor instead. This is a traumatic subject for many, and I totally understand if you just can’t give up the energy to read this. I don’t think any less of you, I promise. I’m not entitled to warn people that my words may be triggering just because I have feels I want to share in the hopes it helps others. Remember, to seek out your support network if your thoughts are turning dark. So many people would rather help you find the light than lose you to the darkness. Laughter brings in light, so seek out your favorite comedy and wallow in light . Be safe.

After Sweetie and Darling went home, my Mom and I were watching TV. Law and Order is a favorite. I saw a new-to-me episode about the right to die with dignity. How very fitting for this particular week. From a man whose cancer is back and can’t be beat this time. Part of the reason I’m all for people deciding to die rather than continue to exist in their current form is because who am I to tell a fellow human being that certain belief systems insist they prolong their suffering for some sort of express lane to heaven or face the highway to hell. That’s not me. I encourage all suffering humans to make a valid, good faith, sincere try of things for as long as they can. Sometimes death visits, other times you need to find it yourself. Not the prettiest thought, but it’s ok, you can retain your opinions without offense taken or given.

So tonight, 9 years ago, I kinda had a huge feeling that he was already gone. I wouldn’t find out for sure until the following afternoon. It was a long night, but not as long as the following night, when I spent my first night as a widow. Nothing like the feeling of not wanting to go sleep because you’re a mixture of denial, acceptance, and self pity. Women’s intuition was screaming he was gone, but I waited as long as I possibly could until I sought proof.

Yet honestly, there was a weird sense of realization that the end of his suffering meant the beginning of mine, in a way. In many ways, I grew the fuck up after he died. He left me writings that gave me some great advice, a bunch of criticism (the majority of it valid, lol), and many apologies for having to leave me in this particular manner. He broke his cell phone, which was a telling sign–he did not want to be contacted or tracked (as much as a flip phone can be tracked, that is). He’d been asking me to accept his choice for quite awhile. I accepted that I had no right to expect him to suffer any longer than he could manage. I’d never truly accept he was gone until I heard it from another human.

And at the same time, I’d rather have been able to sit with him while he was able to shuffle off his mortal coil. I spent the better part of 6 years caring for my husband, upholding my wedding vows until death parted us. Why shouldn’t I be able to be there when he’s ready to go? Alas, where I live it’s not allowed. I mean, we’re in Soylent Green times, why can’t we Go Home yet? (Ok, so don’t feed our dead to us, though, we’re not that overpopulated yet!) I know, I know, complex issues require complex solutions.