Kintsugi

By now you know that my beloved and I are going through a tough time together. I am finding myself in a continuous state of kintsugi. This is the Japanese art of repairing shattered pottery with gold to create a perfectly imperfect piece of beauty, one that reflects its history and experience. I am shattered. I am continuously repaired. I am re-formed every single day though my purpose remains firm - to help Kevin on this journey in every way I can.

Below is an excerpt of a note I sent to my family, describing how I feel. But really, the simplest way to say it is that I have become a piece of kintsugi.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I do not know the words to describe what I'm feeling. I come up with all kinds of metaphors and similes; none are accurate or strong enough. I've said I feel like a ruined city, lifeless and abandoned, but that's not entirely true because I am thinking so hard and loving so much. My ability to cope changes from moment to moment, depending on what I'm facing, it's as though I have shattered into several Lauras. 

Shattered is a good word for it. 

There is the Laura who howls. She shows up every couple of days and makes noises the likes of which I didn't know I could produce. She is composed of grief and rage.  There is the Laura who is thinking, analyzing, figuring out how to fight. She is around in the hospital and whenever I have to strategize. She is really, really smart. I'm glad she's here. There is the Laura that believes we can beat this, that holds hope, because if I don't hold hope then the first Laura takes over. There is the Laura that knows the statistical outcomes and timelines. She keeps whispering in my ear and is, frankly, not yet useful. There are so many Lauras right now, each one of them with their own needs and voices. I suppose this isn't uncommon or even a bad way of coping with it. I remain functional until I am not, then I pick up again and keep moving on.

I hate this. I hate that Kevin is suffering like this. I hate that the universe could dare give me such love, such happiness, such hope and then do this. I am also aware that this is a deep and powerful lesson in love, because frankly that really is all I have. And I am being so well loved by people I don't even know. I counted it up and think there are probably in excess of 1000 people praying for Kevin. Maybe it means something for his health, maybe it doesn't, but it does mean that people are kind. People love. We are creatures composed of hope, believing our faith makes a difference in the face of the universe. We must hope.

I hope that whatever happens (and here the hopeful Laura and the statistician square off) he is able to make decisions that give him the best journey he can find. I hope I remain strong and functional throughout. I hope. Because I can't not. 

There are microscopic moments of grace, even now and I'm sure throughout this journey. I hope I remember to see them. If this situation won't simply become a bad dream, then I would not be anywhere but here. With him. Walking beside him.

I love him so much. I have been so lucky and, in some twisty little way, still am, because I have not forgotten, because I have had 15 years and may have more, because. I am loved and am able to love in turn.

(c)2014 Laura S. Packer