I'm staying home.
Several friends invited me to join them, and were gracious when I declined. Tickets were held for me and I turned them back. Home delivery was offered and still I said "No." I'm taking care of myself tonight.
As TBG reminded me, I'd asked him to record Diane Sawyer's interview with the Kelly's last month. They were inspiring at a time when I needed a bit of a push. Now, weeks later, I still haven't seen it. .
Yet I'm carrying the image of Gabby's smile in my heart each and every day. When I resist getting up from the couch, preferring to moan and ask for help, I think of Mark encouraging Gabby and I get up and get my own damn drink. I don't like it, but I do it. It's the right thing to do. Both of our husbands tell us so. We're lucky to have them, although it doesn't always feel like the blessing that it is.
Every once in a while it's nice to be able to whine. I have the words to do that. Gabby doesn't. I cannot imagine what that must be like. Typing to you, talking to my friends, reassuring my family,.. I am an active participant in all of it. Hearing myself say it aloud, whatever it may be, takes the edge off... just a little... enough to make it bearable when it feels like my head is going to explode.
Sometimes the tears just don't stop coming.
I'm just not ready to do that in public. I don't know if I ever will be ready to do that in public. There are certain pieces of this event which can be typed to you, who choose to be here, who've watched this unfold, who know me. I can't put it out for the world to see.
There is no way on God's green earth that I could be within 100' of Mark Kelly tonight and not begin to cry. He sat with me in my hospital room. He hugged my husband and I watched them draw strength from one another. He and My True Friend discussed space travel at more than a casual level. When I think of that I return to my damaged self, in bed and en-pillowed and drugged, surrounded by love in the first few days after my brush with violence, aching in my body and my soul, feeling such loss and such devotion .....
I'm typing through a veil of tears. It's misty, not drippy, kind of blurry and definitely the cusp of something much bigger and deeper. If I'm going to let it out, it's not going to happen in front of 3000 people and an astronaut.
I'm doing just fine, snuggled next to TBG on Douglas, typing to you.
That's why I stayed at home.