Good Grief 120

Spent most of the day in a prone state watching this bit of cobweb being buffeted by the rather bleak day outside that I never ventured into.
Having got through the week I was felled by a bug. I haven't really had one since my husband died, not an 'ordinary' bug ... I've been permanently incapacitated but haven't been ill as such for years.
I ache, can hardly move, thumping headache. I lit the fire in stages as I didn't have the energy to do it as usual - I don't normally give it a second thought. In between each stage I retreated back to bed. Each time I wondered if it was worth bothering doing the next bit - what's the point, prone upstairs or prone downstairs is much the same.
But, of course, it is so much more symbolic than that ...
Prometheus again.
No fire, no life.

I should add ... having got downstairs I am struggling with how I get back up again.
As I looked at this little web struggling to hang on I was reminded of how long it took to get my husband up to bed. We could spend an hour on the stairs on a bad night (it's only a tiny house with not a lot of stairs). If we hadn't timed it right and he was too tired it could take an age per step and I would be behind him encouraging and hoping he didn't lose balance and we'd end up crawling and I would be wildly trying to allay my mind racing about what we would do if we got stuck and he would quickly become chilled and I would witter on about some nonsense or other to hide my anxiety. I had forgotten what logistics were involved in the lead up to bed time ....
... is he too tired to move, is it best to make him comfortable down here, can he get in the bath, if he gets in can we get him out, what if he falls, if we don't start now will we make it, how long will it take, the longer it takes the more energy is dissipated when reserves are spent at the end of the day anyway ....
In the mornings, before work, I would light the fire so that he had warmth to come down to and because I knew that if I left it to him he might not light it because he knew we were using a lot of fuel that we struggled to afford and he felt guilty that I was going to work and he could do so little and felt so helpless and useless.
Of course, when it comes to the universe of loving and being loved, such concepts are rendered utterly meaningless. We were together.