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| Rosenary Elizabeth Healey Waterhouse-Hayward - 1969 |
La muerte me ha golpeado en lo que más amaba, y no he
sido capaz de levantarme y devolverle el golpe con el mero acto de volver a
vivir.
~ Julio
Cortázar
Death has
struck me it that which I loved the most, and I have not been capable of
picking myself up and return that strike with the mere act of returning to
live. My translation
This is my
7000th blog and some sort of a milestone. I knew days ago that I had
to write something a bit out of the ordinary. But all thoughts ended up in
knowing I had to write about my loss of Rosemary. She did die on 9 December
2020, but as days pass it seems that for me my feelings of loss are worse today.
It may have
to do that I am living alone with a female cat surrounded by tactile memories
of her. Niña was her cat and her hands stroked her often.
What makes
my situation worse is that with no prospect of work (and no need for it as
there is plenty of money in the bank) I live a life in which I feel that my
utility to my world is gone. I can really state that what keeps me alive is the
knowledge that should I die before Niña, there would be nobody to take care of
her.
There is a
special fate that few that I know understand. This is that my home is filled
with framed portraits of Rosemary on the walls and when I look at them, she is
looking back at me as I always wanted eye contact with my subjects and family.
She is looking at me with her sad eyes. I know that in our 52 year marriage she
gave me stability, attention and love.
I no longer
miss the sex. I miss those quiet moments in bed when I could hear her
breathing. Come morning, our breakfasts in bed (25 years of them) were the best
moments of our lives.
I will soon
meet my oblivion and once there I will have not feelings or memories for her.
Death may have one advantage in the end.
