40 Days and 40 Nights
Wednesday, July 08, 2020
It has been 40 days since my Walter died. I know this seems obsessive. It's what I do. I count things (see "psych" in Alaskapsych). Most people don't realize that is what psychologists do, they count things, they calculate how far from "typical" the number they observed is. Should I turn this number back upon myself? Is it typical to count the days? That, I fear, is another post.
But for me, now, 40 days and 40 nights without my Walter has other meaning. I had to look it up, what was the meaning? In my fog, I remembered it was from scripture, but couldn't remember what was the reference.
It was the story of how long the Ark remained adrift in the great flood destroying the Earth.
Noah, now there was a misunderstood man. Had he existed today, one of two things would have happened. 1) Noah would have remained a homeless beggar who was completely dismissed due to extreme mental illness or 2) had a celebrated 15 minutes of fame, probably complete with YouTube hits into the millions. But I digress.
For me, 40 days and subsequently 40 nights represents not a flood, but a desert. I have wandered aimlessly, looking for something: my Walter. He is gone. He was my friend, my companion, my anchor, my love. He was all things.
So as I continue to wander my desert, I remember this is yet another Old Testament story. One with a different ending. The flood ended with a dove and a rainbow. What does my desert end with?