ECCC episode IV: A New Hope

There is too much for one, or even two posts from the last week. I will have to do a poor job of just summing it in brief.

I was happy. I was happy this past week, in a way I had not been since 4 years ago when Wash and I took our little trip to Vegas and got married.
Those few days of, and the two days of 'Honeymoon' we had after were my happy moments. The happiness in his face, our joy, and our utter faith and confidence that we (might have some bad and good moments) would be together from that point on, for decades, until we both died in our advanced ages- hopefully together.

That is really the only thing I could ever be mad at him for; he broke that promise. He promised, he swore to me he would let me die first.
I cannot be mad though, as he did not ask for it. He did not ask for cancer, and he did not ask for an early death. He did not ask to die before he ever saw 30 years go by.


So, it was a difference. 4 years without really having a smile, sustained joy. Excitement.

Meeting new friends was more wonderful than I think I'd felt it at any other time in my life. It is like an emotional puzzle with other people as pieces, all coming together to create a feeling of 'completion'.

Seeing some "old" friends was a true joy as well. I had a chance to bond and become much closer to someone Wash was quite fond of, and cared for. Well, he did that with all his friends, true, but I recall him saying many times over how much we all had in common- he expected us to be the type of people to remain close and good friends for our adult lives.
Having had a longer chance to meet and talk with her, his lovely Brother, I have to agree.
It was a feeling so lovely, so happy, so light!, to be able to talk to someone else who knew my Wash BEFORE the cancer. Who knew him as the person/man I had fallen in love with. It was easier to remember the happy times we had BC and to share them, and mostly to laugh.

It was good for me to see his friends and the other people he adored/loved who carry on his passions. Who love certain parts of architecture as he did.

Perhaps that is one reason why ECCC was so comfortable for me; instead of utterly terrifying.
It was a giant center filled with people very much like myself, and even more like my Wash. There was familiarity there. A sense of remembrance; not having ever been to Emerald City ComicCon, the exact layout was not familiar; but the people, the CosPlay, the games, the booths... all images that I recognized.

I went down at one point to the lowest low convention room/basement/lower basement.
Also known as the "Gaming Rooms".
..........
[Insert Table/Card/Dice/LAN gamers growling at yet again, being stereotyped even within the 'geek' Subculture, and thrown in the 'basement']

One person I spoke to suggested, perhaps only partially joking, that the elevator button just have a sticker with "Dungeon" put over the Lower Level/Basement button.

However, I wanted to see if I could find anyone who way playing Warhammer [40K or Fantasy] or a table-top game, since I play a bit myself. Mentally, it felt like Wash would also kick my ass or haunt me if I was at Con and did not check things out.
I am glad I did.
I met a exhibitor there who introduced me to a new Table-top game [Fanticide] which my friends ended up buying for me.

It is a pretty cool game to begin with; but more so, it is compatible with other TT sets. You can buy specific models for the game, of course, but you can also use anything else you already have/own.
For me, this is really the best I can ask for.

I can have a (new) game to play with some of *my* W40K sets and minis that I kept, and the local Games Depot took Wash's old stuff to be donated to their game room, for all others to play with. [Outside of what he Willed for his friends to keep]. I can go down, play on the terrain that Wash and I made, but not the *same* game that we played. It will not have those same memories, which are mostly keeping me from doing any W40K playing myself. It is too hard, when all I can think of is him as a missing partner.
With a new game however, I am excited to learn the new things, to build on the knowledge that Wash gave me by teaching me these kinds of games [slightly different than the D&D stuff I did a LONG time ago].
I'm excited about playing this new game.

I know that Wash would have been pleased beyond words at that.
I'm pleased with myself for feeling I'm doing this more for myself than just for his memory.

Highlights I will address in future posts; meeting specific people/celebrities, panels, Con commentary.


*****************************************************************

I am back home now.
My cats have calmed down, some. Aelphie does not wish to let me out of her sight (like she did as a wee kitten) and if she has the chance, will crawl into my lap.
She is not a lap-cat, either.

Leto has been chirping a lot more, and running around- pretty much acting like a kitten. At 3 years old for a male Maine Coon, technically, he still is a kitten. I am pretty certain he just missed having someone around- all.the.time.
That has been his only life really; as a companion. To Wash, every day for more than the first two years of that cat's life, he was with Wash. Then, me.
I think if Aelphie would tolerate it, he would play with her. She does not, alas.



This has been a very changing week for me. Though I have had a lot of fears, I have learned that I can get through them. Not all the time, or even with 100% consistency, but I can. More so, I tried. I put myself out, I lived as Tashi; and I let myself experience life as Wash would have (wanted).


The past week opened me up to trying again. To See.

There are times still to just be Going Through The Motions, and now I also feel ready to try living again.
That spark in me of love, and life is gone. I know that. He is never coming back. I will never feel that same lifebeat with anyone else.
But I still remain.

My heart still beats.
I still breathe, even when it is hard or I've forgotten how.
My blood still flows, my mind and body; still connected to each other and the world.


Brain Cancer- Glioblastoma Multiforme took my husband, my love, my life, my Wash, our future.
It took from me too, so much I perhaps cannot even list it all.

But I still remain.

I cognate.
I see.

I remain. 

Victoria & Albert

I've spent the last 7.5 hours cleaning upstairs.
My bedroom has not been this neat since 2009.

I so far have one 30gal bag filled with things to donate, a bunch of books to shelve, and three 30 gal bags of trash to go out.
I've also done 3 loads of laundry so far, and have one more to wash and two loads to dry tonight. I have decided to take a break tomorrow and do stuff downstairs; clean out my fridge and wash dishes.

I hope to clean out my closet/our closet/the clothes closet before I leave on my trip in a week.

I don't know yet how I feel about this. I'm making a lot of progress towards making a house that I can function in, but I have now changed almost everything that Wash had made, touched, set, designed. His "touch" is not really here anymore.
I still have some of the things that were important to him up, and put up a few more of the notes he wrote for me.

I wish I was in a position to act like Queen Victoria, and not change a thing after Albert died; even setting out a place for him at the table and his daily clothes.
But, I can't. For many reasons from the mental to the rationally practical.
So, it's time.
I still don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going, but for the first time since he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I'm thinking longer than 2 weeks ahead. I don't know what it is, but I can at least, on more days now that not, see that there is *something* for me.
Little changes, cleaning and organizing needed, and slowly, I'm hoping to start figuring out my life on my own.

Leto seems to be confused but interested in the changes. Aelphie is in the bathroom because the vacuum and things moving scare the shit out of her. She's a lot like her mum.


I think I'm just not processing it yet. I did it physically, but mentally, I'm leaving it to Future Tashi. I made sure to keep stuff I was not certain if I was ready to part with yet; but I've put most of that away, again, to go through when I'm mentally stronger.
The bedroom was pretty bad, because it was where Wash spent so much of the end of his life, and I could not bring myself to change much of anything.
But, I cannot live forever like he is still dying. Or imagining he is coming back. He's not. Ever.
My husband has been dead now for five months.
Dead.

I hate myself for how that word becomes easier to say. It's still hard, and I stumble a lot, but I don't avoid the word anymore.

I'm still not stable at all, financially. I need help. I finally feel though, like I might be able to do something again. I'm not certain what, but it is progress from only seeing myself in bed, crying until I pass out.