I came across this little gem/not-gem today while cleaning a stack of files from my accident. It’s my wife’s little notebook from when I first went to the hospital. You see the entry on 5/31?
“Also said I looked sad.”
This breaks my heart even now, four years later. She scribbles that I was confused: I’m sure that’s the least of it. I joke with her – ha ha! – that the accident and recovery were easy for me: I never knew what happened, never really experienced it, and – at least at first – was doped up like a Munch painting. But even then, even with all this stuff, even flashing in and out of consciousness, I saw her sadness. I know now that she wondered how to take care of the girls by herself and how she would tell them I was gone.
Note, too, the hilarity of it: I asked if she wanted to go on a bike ride. Maybe it hadn’t sunk in quite yet?