Is there?

I still believe there is a God, I still believe God created the Big Bang thus creating the universe.  As far as day to day. I can’t fathom an all loving God allowing so much pain and violence in the universe created.  I believe it was created with beauty and love at it’s core.  The all loving God is there to help us get through the pain of life and help us celebrate the joy and the little miracles that bring people together.  I guess Life is still Pain with beauty, strength, and love to get us through the day to day and guide us to joy.

Chapter two

I've heard it called a few different things.  Second love, chapter 2, and a few others that escape my tired brain tonight.  Chapter two does not erase this.  Maybe I thought it would, maybe I feel guilty because it didn't and I also feel guilty because there is a chapter 2 for me, and you are no longer.  You made me promise, a promise I reluctantly muttered out loud, you made me say it.  How can this be?  So much happiness and love, yet some much emptiness, especially when we are apart.  Especially when I am on my own, not working,  not focusing on your princess.

You know that nickname would no longer fly.  Well, it doesn't fly in her life now without her father, without her dad.  Who knows, maybe if you were still alive and in her life she would still be princess.  It's hard for me to imagine a world with you here, it's too painful, I'm too practical.  It's kinda like when you would want to look at houses and we were no where near ready to  move.  We would look at homes on the market and we vaguely talked about moving.  I would find the perfect house, imagine our furniture in the house, even picture where all the book shelves would go, then be crest fallen realizing it wouldn't happen because realistically we would move MAYBE  the next year.  Also when power ball got huge, like on the news huge, we would day dream what we would if it happened to us.  When the numbers came out and our streak continued of getting not one single number, I was actually disappointed.  I guess for that reason I can't think of 2016, 2017, 2018 and beyond with you alive.  My brain just can't do it because it is absolutely impossible.  I was there sitting in a chair when you took that last audible breath.  When we all waited, holding our own breath to see if air would enter your lungs for just another moment of life on this planet.  It didn't.  I relive that moment, from time to time.  There are so many moments that dance in my head, words said.  Of late it's all moments of your last months & weeks in this life.  The hospital, having to leave work because the news was so bad I just couldn't be there and I couldn't come home.  Asking M if this was your last Christmas, her response burned into my brain, "I hope not"

It was.

My Mom's last Christmas she was suppose to be here.  She was too sick to travel and never spent a Christmas with her granddaughter.  There is not even a memory for her, nothing.  Stories, words, maybe a few pictures.  Like you three months after Christmas she was gone.  Watching her fretful sleep, not really sleep, a state of being, existence.  We watched for signs of pain, her grimacing face, a cue that she needed more pain medication.  That first night I spent in the hospital, it was just my Mom and me.  Her organs shutting down.  She was so warm, perspiring.  I applied cold compresses to her forehead, feeding my need to help her in some way, to give her comfort. 

Five years later I would have that need again, this time I had more roles as care giver, to you and to your princess.  From medication, to bathing, to getting you in and out of the car, the chair, to helping you relieve yourself.  We came up with a system for everything.  We were such a good team, in sync, predicted the other moves so well.  Boy could we dance, always in the same rhythm. 

It was when we danced that night in 1998 I knew you were the one.  I knew I couldn't let you go, I had to choose the path that included you.  No matter how difficult, I had to take the risk and I did. 

And here I am, on a new path.  It's difficult and complicated.  This new path, this chapter 2 is good, worth the risk, worth the work, yet I still feel alone, empty at times.  It seems to be when I'm by myself, no distractions, no work filing my mind so as to not allow other thoughts to enter.  The void returns when my second love is not here.  What happened to my strength?  My ability to exist in this life and at least fake it, yes it hurt to smile, but I was able to do it.  Theses last few days I couldn't even do that.  I was consumed, my confidence, my ability to make simple decisions, just gone.  I even had a slight anxiety episode where I needed to focus on breathing and find a visual point to focus on while at church.  I couldn't breath because the void in my chest was spreading to my throat, I felt so alone sitting in that pew. I thought this horrid void was gone, chapter two doesn't take it away.  I hope others realize that, I don't know how I expect others to understand when it doesn't make sense to me. 

I must remind myself again, the sun has set and it will rise again tomorrow. 

I miss you handsome man.

I long to hold your hand my dear

take care.

in between

I feel broken, drained, tired, no energy.  It hurts to smile, I have no energy to even fake it.  Empty. I am so torn.  The new in my life, I try to focus on that, the good.  Today was so difficult.  I was swallowed by the void, there was nothing I could do.  Escape.  I am so exhausted, tired of an existence yet yearn for the new to grow and blossom.  This is my life.

Solitude

Days off in solitude are still difficult, this time of year does not help.  Usually I have many errands to complete, places to visit, tasks to accomplish.  Today I do not, today I'm on my own, well I guess I'm never truly on my own, you're always with me one way or another, my thoughts, my smiles, my tears. 

This morning I went to mass, I got there a bit early and the chapel was full of senior citizens, they were praying the rosary.  Something I learned and long forgotten, sorry Sister Mary Potter.  It me thinking, some day I will be one of those senior citizens, well at least I hope I will I've learned in this life the future is not a given.  I digress, some day if I have the fortune to be on this earth in my eighties and those around me going to a daily mass, we may not know the prayers of the rosary, well at least with out the aid of a prayer book.  What is our world shaping into? This is a true question, not meant to be pessimistic by any means, just an honest curiosity of the unknown future I may or may not share in. 

I will retire to my day of solitude and complete my chores of laundry and continue to contemplate the future.


take care

love you my handsome man and my dear

"The Orchestra Plays On"

2 more pictures on the wall & 1 put away.  Maybe that’s 2 steps forward. 

Found an old journal I tried to start with only 1 entry, 12/9/14.  A promise to write everyday, a promise I couldn’t keep. 

 A poem of sorts I wrote in my youth, a journal from that time.  I’ve let it all go. 

January 12, 1999

The Orchestra Plays On

He is the beginning, he is the end

And all the beauty in between

With the curl of each hair on his head

    begins the wonderful being I pledge my love. 

His eyebrows gently introduce his eyes, 

    the portal to his soul. 

His star so intense with love & compassion, 

    I can't help but feel the calming whisper of his embrace. 

It's almost as if his eyes peek right through me, to the innermost core of my soul. 

A soul he absolutely illuminates with those portals of shining brown. 

I can can picture his lips highlighted with tin prickles, the gentlest prickles I've ever caressed. 

These lips are the source of a myriad marvels. 

His thoughts become materialized with chose words animated with those prickled lined lips

    and his brown portals expressing his beautiful soul. 

A soul so magnificent, its source is within his strong, giving heart. 

A heart that rhythmically beats and joins my own to create the greatest orchestra, 

    conducted by our enjoined soul. 

An orchestra that I am privileged to hear the rest of my life. 

A lifetime where we shall walk, side by side, hand in hand, 

    laced with each others fingers, grasping the other. 

His hands are so strong, strong enough to carry & gentle enough to provide. 

The lines of his palm tell our story of which we have not yet lived. 

The characters and narrator will be revealed each day as we take each breath & share our lives. 

We will live these lined stories of his hands & pass them on to our children as we sit at the kitchen table

    laughing

I'll still watch those prickled lined lips. 

We'll talk, walk

We'll run

We'll stand in each other's presence and just stare, completely at peace, completely happy. 

As I sit here tonight peering out the plastic window & only darkness surrounds

I see in the distance a great illumination expressed with the gleam of brown portals

I hear a beautiful melody

and feel the prickled lined lips

I can almost taste him

his strong hands on my back 

his arms embracing me

our soul being nourished

And the orchestra plays on. 

-KJB

The title of this poem from my youth is striking because I've shared the beauty of the orchestra 

with you a few times now. Through all the pain the beauty of the orchestra continues to make such wonderful music,

to evoke a wild array of emotions. Seeing these items of my past bring up memories and some pain, 

however the memories we've made are starting to help the old memories not be so painful; 

if that makes any sense at all.  

take care, 

I shouldn't have

I shouldn't have done it, but I did.  It's like looking at an automobile accident, there is no good to come out of it, in my case it brings me backwards.  Being tired does not help.  I took a shower, didn't do much for me tonight, so much for self care.

I have so much to be happy about, so much to look forward, hell just living in the now is wonderful.  I look forward to texts, to conversations, to touch.  It's more than not being alone, it's being with you.  Why then, why am I in this void, why is the hollow starting to grow and consume me.  I shouldn't have done it.  It's a reminder, how dare I come so far, to find happiness, to find love twice in a lifetime, how can that be even possible, how dare I.  It's really not fair, some people never find love in a single lifetime, what makes me so special.  I truly feel guilty.  I know it sounds silly and dumb, being tired does not help.  I should really go to sleep.  I sit here with new and old pictures mingling, I've even taken some down because I was ready, I sit here as the salted tears roll down my face escaping my eyes, ojos del mar.

I've forgotten how good you were with words, how those words made me feel so good, gave me confidence.  I've forgotten how good it feels to hear those words and actually believe you.  I miss that, if that's vain, then I admit it, I really miss that.

Why did I step into the waves?  You pulled me out and brought me to shore, to safety.  It's one thing when the waves come to you and hit you and drown you, it's completely something else to walk into the waves.  I don't know why I did it.  I'm sorry.  The empty is swallowing me tonight, the void is consuming me, I don't even know why.  I'm tired, I will lay and close my eyes and hope tomorrow will be be better.



take care,

Being with the trees, not observing the forrest.

Went to a place again, last time & first time I was there we were a family of three and we brought along AS.  Our princess was seven, and she does not remember.  She only has three maybe even four years of memories with you in them.  Most of her stories and memories take place a mere year before your diagnosis. Soon the years of memories will be shorter than the years without you. It's not fair, neither is life, as I was told so often growing up, a lesson I was warned about, a lesson I live with each day.

Memories

I can remember things good and bad

Memories I want to relive and others I don't

Memories of thing I once had, but do not have any more

Things I wish I had but I do not have any more

I need the memories, no matter what they make me feel

The pain or the joy but they are mine so I must cherish them. 

Memories 

C.C.S.

Now it feels like four. Words, I'm trying, really I am.  I need to learn a new phrase and find the courage to say another.  Why is late an adjective for dead.  I suppose it's a polite word to make people feel comfortable.  I met a new person, making small talk like I do, where are you from?  A commonality I discovered between you and him.  The phrase should have been, my late husband, not to invite sympathy or create attention, but to provide clarity.  

That word may become part of my vocabulary once again.  To actually think this through, it's a bit scary.  When I'm with you everything just feels natural and right, like of course that's where our path will lead. The scary is becoming smaller and smaller, it's barely visible at all now.   Then I think practically, realistically, and it feels so far away, patience.  

That is something I had with you, it didn't necessarily matter when things happened, especially little things.  When it was family time, there was no time crunch or time line.  I was reminded of that today.  Sometimes I get caught up in all that needs to be completed and I lose the moment.  Yesterday was another example of that as well.  We got there when we got there, the time together, in the moment, creating memories, soon there'll be words that outsiders will need explanations for.  

Words, I don't know what to call you, I know what you are, I understand your significance, just don't know how to verbalize it to others.  I think it's like going in the pool, you ease your way into the cold water, getting use to the temperature, eventually you have to decide you're going in and you just do it.  I was so close with an introduction the other day, then I just couldn't do it.  Part of me feels the title is juvenile, immature, but then I don't have any other ideas.  I don't know how to fix it. It's society, it's labels, but I want to give you that label, that title really.  I'm only up to my knees, getting use to the cold temperature, I will just dive in eventually, just a bit longer is all. 

take care my dear, I love you.