While driving to funeral today (not, actually, something I do very often) I was on a road that winnowed to two lanes and started to turn and twist around country bends and past farms and a feed store. I knew what was coming up, I was conjuring the image of a patient as I drove. I had liked this couple. I found them sweet and sad and I worried about them. The road took a deep swoop to bottom out at an intersection of a gravel road were I would have turned left to go visit them.
Memories and emotions trailed to the intersection almost visible in their tangibility. An intrusive thought-ghost swirled and clung to the car as I drove by. It happens all the time. Everywhere I drive and everytime I drive. I try not to tell the poor people driving with me cause I see ghosts dozens of times a day. Well, sort of see them, anyway.
What is interesting is that it's all my old patients, not just the hospice patients but all the patients that I've visited in their homes. It feels like when you see people in the grocery store or something and for a moment it appears that it is some long lost friend.
It feels like regret. Is that what mourning is? Regret?
