What I Had to Do

Dearest Rachel –

I think my subconscious mind is trying to help me come up with material to tell you about these past few mornings without actually putting together actual dreams as such – I don’t know if it’s being lazy or brilliant. Considering that what it put together is mostly unusable, I’m actually mildly annoyed at it. On the other hand, the topic it put into my head could certainly go a long way, if I really put myself into analyzing it.

What I can recall of last night’s… visions? had to do with some political leader of the past century or so. I was given a name – Dennis, or maybe Denis – and I’m pretty sure he was supposed to have been part of either the American or British political system. Anyway, he put his country through some particularly rough reforms, and it came out better for them, despite facing severe opposition to them along the way. At the end of the day, it seemed that he was being asked about the decisions he had made and enforced, and he simply said that “I did what I had to do.”

While it all looked real and uplifting in the moment, upon waking up, I found that the name didn’t ring the right bells – and sure enough, the closest I could come was either the husband of the Prime Minister or a baseball near-legend (who would have had no impact on the political realm). Moreover, whatever course corrections my subconscious came up with would never have been countenanced by the general electorate in either nation, desperately needed though they might very well be. So… yeah.

But my thoughts on the subject really don’t have anything to do with politics (and as I’ve said so often before, I try not to bother telling you about those in these letters, anyway – it would be one thing if we could have a back-and-forth conversation about the affairs of the day, and the utter boneheadedness behind much of what passes for political discourse in this day and age, but one person talking to empty air isn’t the same thing at all). The thing is, I’ve undergone a lot of changes in my life since you had to leave, and while many of them might be considered improvements from a certain perspective, I can only say what the imaginary fellow did: “I did what I had to do.”

The problem with these supposed improvements is that is carries the impression that I’ve made myself and my life better off without you, and while your departure may have given me the opportunity to do certain things (or provoked me to do others), to call myself ‘better off’ isn’t what I would consider to be accurate. Yes, the piles of stuff in the various rooms are more or less gone (there is still a lot in the basement, to be sure, and a bit on your side of the bedroom, but what remains is negligible in comparison to what used to be), we have a brand-new kitchen and laundry room, I’m just about forty pounds lighter than when you last saw me, and I’m likely to continue along that path. And Daniel and I have been places, seen things and done stuff together that we, in our last months, could have only dreamed of.

But is this an improvement? It could easily be argued that, once we said goodbye to Chompers, it would have been the three of us making those trips – and others, since you might have had plans to crisscross the country via rail after that last trip to visit your ‘Aunt’ Ruth (honestly, until that point, I had no idea how much you disliked flying) that wouldn’t cross my mind. Sure, my efforts at dieting and exercise might be a little more difficult to keep me on – we’d talked about it, back in the day, and never really got anywhere with it – but considering where I’ve been going, you and I could have made regular trips of it, and you could have certainly incentivized it for me in a way that I can’t do for myself (I have to content myself with the falling numbers alone, which, while gratifying, doesn’t really give me the real results I’d like out of this). The time spent with Lars might have been an issue; you didn’t begrudge me time away from you – and you certainly had your own female friends, after all, for which I appreciate their continued loyalty and support – but whether I would have cultivated that relationship when I had you, well… I rather doubt it.

And so much of what I’ve done makes it sound like you were an impediment to these improvements. Even your Bible studies and sermon notes often have you referring to your own inability to let go of stuff, which precluded accomplishing a lot of what finally went on in the house during that first year after your departure. But after having to let go of you yourself – the most precious thing in my life – what did any of these other things matter in comparison? Getting rid of anything (but not everything) became so much easier.

But easier does not mean easy. I’m not doing this, really, to improve myself, or my lot. I’m doing this because I have to do something. The Lord could have decided to take all of us at once, maybe on the drive back home from camp, but He only brought you home. Daniel and I are still here, and I presume that’s for a reason. Maybe it’s for no other reason than we’re still needed for whatever it is we’re already doing – to be sure, I find myself asking how our roles are more essential than yours were. Maybe it’s because we (or at least I – I do find myself dragging Daniel along behind me) were willing to make those necessary changes. I really don’t know, honey.

All I know is that I’m just doing what I feel I have to do, honey, and I can only hope it all works out in the end. Until then, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.