the weight of a couple of words

I’m finding that I spend much of my life in “if-only” mode. If only I could lose twenty pounds I’d find the man of my dreams, or if only I could make it to the gym every other day I would lose the twenty pounds. If only I could manage to get myself totally organized I could become more efficient, and I could spend more time doing the fun stuff. If only I liked broccoli as much as I like chocolate. If only chocolate didn’t fill that nasty emotional void so well when I’m sad. If only, when the world is closing in, I could feel all of the hard emotions instead of pushing them aside. If only I could shut off the emotions when they get to the breaking point and just think when I need to work. If only…

My roommate is sick with stomach cancer. After a time of uncertainty of whether I was able to believe what she was telling me, I now know that it is true. It not only is true, but she is really much sicker than what she has led me to believe. A couple of weeks ago we had a serious conversation, and she let me know that the chemo isn’t really working. The doctor informed her he believed she was in stage 4; that’s stage four of five. He also suggested she get her will in order. There have been days since when she feels much better and has hope that she can beat it, but then there are days like today when she is in pain and she describes her bones hurting. I’m sure she finds herself saying, if only I could live.

I’m now crying. Apparently my psyche can no longer run from the tears. It would be nice if I could choose the time and place for an emotional breakdown, but no, here I sit at my workstation writing this with tears unabashedly flowing. Thankfully most of the work force has gone, so explanations, if any will be few. I was thinking about a book I read awhile back called “The Things They Carried” written by Tim O’Brien. He deals with the horrors of war in a series of short stories recounting how the weight of the huge amount of war gear they carry is light compared to the emotional baggage the killing of the war leaves with them. In no way do I feel like what I’m going through compares with the atrocities of war, but at the same time this baggage I’m carrying right now is getting very heavy. If only I could just live my life without the weight of all of my “if only’s”, and just embrace each day as a gift to be cherished and lived to the fullest. If only…