The Brick Wall

i remember as a preteen having to share a room with my step-sister who was 11m older than me. we didn't like each other and to be honest 25 years later we still don't care much for each other.
we didn't share friends... mine were all goody two shoes ... hers drank and played with drugs. we never left the house at the same time for the school bus because we didn't dare be seen together. at the summer pool we sat on opposite sides of the park to tan. we refused to share clothes or belongings. we would divide the chores between us so we didn't have to be in the same room together. she would fold laundry while i did dishes. i would weed the south end of the garden while she did the north end. we didn't share tastes in music... i liked duran duran she liked ac/dc.
what we did share was our bedroom. it was a normal sized bedroom in a 3bdrm house. my brother was lucky enough being a boy to have his own room. i had to share mine with Joyce.
we didn't have conventional beds in the room due to space constrictions so we slept on those single foamy chairs that fold out to a bed. we never thought to complain about this we actually thought it was kind of cool because when we had friends over we could stuff the sheets and quilts into the closet, close it and entertain in our room.
at some point, i don't recall when or even what caused it, Joyce and i had a huge falling out. living in the same room was not acceptable to either one of us anymore. because we had tennants in the basement neither of us could take refuge in the basement and the only other place left was the hen house full of over 100 chickens, that wasn't gonna work either.
my mother tired of the yelling and screaming that would take place every single day finally devised a plan to give us each our own space. built from decorative bricks and some finished wall shelving she made a bookshelf and planted it square in the middle of the room. the top two shelves were for joyce's stuff and the bottom two were mine.
suddenly we became territorial. more so than we had been before. if anything of mine touched anything of hers, there was a screaming match. if her laundry was on my section of carpet, there was a screaming match. if i needed something out of the closet, i had to ask permission. if she needed something out of the dresser, she had to ask permission. looking back now it was beyond ridiculous and i'm surprised our parents didn't kill us both.
Joyce got herself into big trouble with my parents, the school and the law that year and i got my room back when she went to live in a foster home. i got the room to myself once again.
Joyce and i could hear each other and could talk to each other when we were in the mood. we could see each other through those shelves and could even reach out and touch each other if we had wanted to. the wall was a symbolic seperation more than it was a real one but it increased the divide between us.
emotional walls remind me of that brick wall.
sometimes we all become overwhelmed with feelings and emotions that we have trouble comminicating to others. i am as guilty of this at times as others and i understand the strain it can put on a relationship. when you can't find the words to tell the person you love your inner most fears and concerns silence becomes loud.
the last week or so alot of information has flowed into this house about friends made during dean's treatments. some of the news has been good. more of it has been bad. there have been family members affected by illness and uncertainty regarding their treatments. this of course comes while i am still trying to recover physically and emotionally from my own circumstances.
added to the stress of the household including ex's not holding up to their parenting responsibilities, finances that are tight due to me not working, children having summer fever which seems to affect their ability to listen and the demands of Dean's job wanting him to work more and more hours, there seems to be an emotional wall between us.
i don't begin to understand what runs through the mind of my soulmate as he faces the loss of friends afflicted with the same disease that hangs over our life like a thundercloud threatening to release its fury at its own will. i can not understand what he lives with everyday knowing that one blood test could cause him to be ripped from our daily life in exchange for radical chemotherapy and bone marrow transplants. i don't worry that i might not be there for graduations and weddings and the future of my children like Dean has been forced to. i don't pretend to have walked a mile in shoes like his and i hope i never have too. he lives the life of a patient.
i do understand the guilt of being healthy when those you love and care about are not. i do understand that it is difficult to be on the sidelines at a complete loss to ease the pain and burden of the ones you love. i understand all to well the fear of the phone ringing and seeing that knowing number on the call display. i know the uncertainty of life and that it can be taken from us in a moment. i know the fear of facing a life without the person you love beside you everyday while you are left alone to greive. i know i would trade him places in a moment if i could spare him pain and anguish. i live the role of cargiver.
when Dean got sick back in june 05 i remember feeling the emotional wall for the first time. he was sitting in a wheelchair in a hospital gown with iv's running into his arm. he was in a hallway awaiting a test on his heart to ensure it was strong enough to endure the chemo through a hickman line. it was for me the first time i clearly saw him as sick. the day before he had been in jeans and a t-shirt as we went for dinner and visited with the kids. he was in an understandably foul mood. fear, anger, anxiety, pain among other things were getting the best of him and he closed up.
i tried to get him to talk to me to tell me what he was feeling, what was going through his mind. his reaction was anger, the only emotion he could grasp and use. i was hurt by his words yet understanding of their source. the silence that resulted was the loudest i have ever heard. there just inches from me was the man i wanted to spend the rest of my life with and his life was hanging by a thread. i couldn't reach him. i couldn't do anything but endure the silence as tears ran down both our faces. we did talk after time but it did take time.
we have had a few experiences like this in the last year. i close up too, i am not capable of saying those difficult things face to face any better than Dean is at times. when we were in different cities it was easier to communicate because there was 200 miles between our faces. most recently when going for surgery i needed to communicate my wishes incase something went wrong and i ended up on life support. try as i might i could not bring myself to talk to dean about it. today i could because it isn't imminent but 4 weeks ago there was no way.
i love this man and right now he is going through something i can't fully understand. he is silent because he can't formulate emotion to words for his own reasons. i lay beside him at night our backs turned to each other because even physical contact might open those wounds he is trying to heal. i fear the silence could become greater and hurt us both, yet i know that it is a silence that can only be understood by two people who understand each other.
i love you Dean