Klaus is being cremated. Right now. I woke up with a start at 6:30 this morning, as he was scheduled to begin that process. Bogart and I went for a walk where we all always have – Powell Butte – and I think he was surprised that I got out of bed so quickly, with only one jump onto my chest and full face-lick.
There are so many things going through my head. So many thoughts, so many regrets. So many messages coming in from all over the world expressing love, offering stories and overwhelming grief. I cannot say if they make me feel better or worse, actually I can’t say that I feel much at all. Even in my own grief I am so numb, so thinking that Klaus is going to walk in the door or that he is just in the living room watching TV.
I am the world’s worst cook. Klaus is an amazing cook. I was never allowed into the kitchen, save for the few times I would enter to make myself some iced tea. Last night I was wandering around the house for about an hour, wondering how some food might magically appear on my plate and be delicious. This hasn’t been too much of an issue lately as eating was not high on my list of priorities. But crying seems to burn a lot of calories so I must find a way to replace those, and in a yummy kind of way.
I spent 12 days in the ICU with Klaus. When I returned, one of the things that greeted me were a refrigerator full of spoiled food. Yes, 12 days can do a lot of damage. For several days I could not bear to even open the refrigerator, much less begin the excavation. And of course on the first day that I put on my miner’s hat and got my shovel, I discovered that I did not have any garbage bags. Damn. Damn. Damn.
So there isn’t much left. And most of what is here is what I have always referred to as “ingredients” – things that are not a meal on their own, but must be combined in some magical way to make delicious food. Klaus knew the combination, I alas, do not. But lo and behold, there was one thing in the freezer that I felt like I might be capable of preparing – a frozen pizza. Nature’s perfect food, the one that no one should be able to destroy. Tasty? Probably not, but it should meet my need for calories if nothing else.
Long story short – I burned it. Beyond recognition. I may have to throw away the pan I cooked it on because it seems to have permanently fused to it. If Klaus were here he would be making fun of me mercilessly (and rightly so). Today I will be sure to visit a restaurant – any restaurant – where I will order food and someone will bring it to me. It’s safer that way.
And Klaus will come home on Monday. In a box, but he will be home again.