There Will Be Other Chances

Dearest Rachel –

Yesterday, the carpenters were supposed to mount the new medicine cabinet in the master bathroom. However, for whatever reason, they were missing the kit that would allow them to attach it flush against the wall, so they had to order that separately today. So, the ‘before’ picture I took in the morning will have to wait to be compared against the ‘after’ that will occur in a couple of weeks.

That having been said, I could probably still prepare your letter about it, as it really has more to do with Daniel, and his reaction to it, than the actual work and its effects. He’s apparently seen pictures of what the mirror, and its accompanying lights, look like, and once again, he doesn’t like it.

In fact, one of the first things he was doing yesterday morning after getting up was researching bathroom fixtures, to find something he preferred to what I had chosen. My parents have commended me for having already gently explained to him that the time of choosing has come and gone, and he had his chance to pick things out, and passed on it. But that doesn’t seem to be a good enough explanation for him. Whatever it is he wants to see in there, the stuff I’ve selected isn’t it.

Part of the problem seems to stem from this someone lost feeling he seems to have: “I thought things would happen before this.” By which he seems to mean that certain prophecies about the external world should have come to pass by now; he wasn’t ready to make decisions until they happened, apparently, but he thought they would happen sooner than this. Stuff like revival sweeping over the country, in certain leaders being removed from office in various ways – specifically, through means other than the normal process that are the upcoming midterm elections.

Indeed, he’s refused to take part in a number of activities the three of us used to enjoy together for that very reason; he’s literally said “I’m waiting for something first before then.” Mostly, it’s various restaurants, particularly Sushi Station – if I get a craving to go there, I have to do so with other people. The thing is, life goes on around us, whether we choose to participate in it or not. He’s all grown up, honey, so I can’t, in good conscience, grab him by the hand and simply tell him, “you’re coming with me, and we’re getting out of the house, und you vill luff it!” He’s at that age where he can make his own decisions – I’m not going to use his diagnosis as a means to control his life, and what he wants to do (or not do) with it. If he’s waiting for lightning to strike from on high, that’s his prerogative.

Now, I could have told him those sorts of things wouldn’t happen – in fact, I did so multiple times. But he’s refused to listen to me, under the impression that ‘a message from God’ is more reliable than I am. And, to be fair, if what he was hearing really was that, it would be. But was it, really, son?

Anyway, all that being said, he’s been looking at medicine cabinets and bathroom light fixtures long after the time has passed to do so. Everything’s been decided on, ordered, and on hand, waiting to be installed (okay, the installation kit is a separate story – it may even be the real reason as to why we never were about to get the one we picked out for the bathroom twenty years ago put up, since back then, we were trying to do it on our own, and didn’t know what we were doing). If Daniel has a problem with that, there’s no much more to be done about it at this point.

Besides, as I’ve reminded him, it isn’t as if he uses that particular room very often. He absolutely despises taking showers (a situation that was brought to mind again over the weekend, as Logan and I washed up both mornings of the convention, while he refused to do so. Granted, he didn’t do nearly as much walking between the convention and the hotel, but still…), and he does have his own bathroom with a tub upstairs that he spends plenty of time in. So, it isn’t as if it should really matter all that much to him.

He countered with the point that he comes downstairs to use the sink in the master bath, because the pedestal sink in his bathroom leaks.

I wasn’t aware of this.

It sounds as if we already have our next project lined up, in that case. And if he has a certain ‘look’ in mind for ‘his’ bathroom, he’ll have his chance someday to pick out everything he wants to make it look the way he wants it to. I don’t have a problem with that, and I’d like to think it would keep him happy to make the plans he wants to see.

The thing is, when I use a phrase like that, like this title, I find myself remembering how we assumed we’d have plenty of time for the plans we had for our lives together. While you cried about missing out on all those conventions we’d booked for 2020, we told ourselves we would have other chances to go to them in other years (which hasn’t necessarily proven true even on an overall basis – the SeaBronies, in particular, have basically disbanded, with just a handful of them still chatting from time to time on Discord). All the trips we were going to take, the work we were going to do on the house (although it’s doubtful that would have happened as soon as it has were you still here); we would get the chance to do all that… someday.

I suppose it could be argued that someday has come for me, but it’s not the same. And while a little bit is available for Daniel as well, it hasn’t quite arrived for him yet. Just as well, perhaps – I’m not sure that he’s ready even now.

Still, he’s flipping through those catalogs online, so maybe there’s hope for him and his plans yet. I’m pretty sure Michael and Lisa are keen on doing bathroom remodels, but maybe, thanks to our current patronage, we could persuade them. Or maybe they can line us up with someone willing to work with Daniel on what he wants to see there. If nothing else, he needs to have a fully-functional room for himself and his needs – and if it’s done to his liking, so much the better.

In any event, honey, wish us luck – we’re going to need it.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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