I must have had bad dreams last night but I don't remember them. This morning I find myself in a strange state of pre-mourning, if you understand what a mean. A sense of impending loss that isn't even based on anything except the knowledge that, if I live long enough, people I care about will pass from my life. In particular, the feeling is focused around my Dad and one of my cats, Bonnie. My Dad's in his mid-60s and he's smoking again, though I don't think quite as much as he used to. Bonnie will be turning 10 this summer — at least according to the paperwork I have on her — and while she seems to be in really good health, I remember that my last cat passed away at only 13. That doesn't mean Bonnie will, but it's still a number that seems terribly, terribly near.
I wish it were possible for me to live in the moment and just enjoy what I have, but I can't. It's hard even to fully enjoy the time I spend with others because I know it's finite. You might say that would make it all the more special, and it does. But always, there's the knowledge it will be painfully taken from me one day, irrevocably. There is always the sense of mourning.
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"I wish it were possible for me to live in the moment and just enjoy what I have, but I can't."
I'm sorry to hear that.
I understand that sense of impending mourning. I think it's an overdeveloped sense of our mortality.
I share that, too, sometimes - thinking about my sister, my mom, my partner.
And we frequently mention our dogs' deaths... I think as a way of always trying to be more emotionally prepared for it. (Not that it works.)
But it is so important to enjoy the time we have, as fully as we can. I hope it's something you'll strive for.
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