don't dare

it's that time of year, the beginning of the end.  It should be a time of renew, it's still too much.  Are the differences too much?  Have I built up enough credit? I'm afraid to ask.  The hollow is here and it's consuming, it seems more than before, alone, empty. I don't dare, I'm afraid of karma.  I'm drowning, alone, deservedly alone.  I'm not ok though I may say, the walls are returning, my fortress is needed.  When will spring be a good time again? You seem so far away, the words you'd say I can't remember anymore, my throat is closing, I'll never be understood again.  There is too much negativity, so many complaints if things are not working as expected, even gravity.  I'm losing the balance, it's so difficult to smile, to find laughter.  I need to keep it together for her, she does not need to take care of me, I need to be there for her.  I don't think she remembers like I do, which I am grateful in a way.  I still have the notebook with all my notes and questions to ask.  The last pages with notes of your funeral.  I remember you being transported to the next building via ambulance and the moments you had outside with the sunshine on your face was just bliss, just those few moments.  All the choices I made in March, choices and decisions I made, those choices and decisions led to you never coming home.  I was so absolutely torn, wanting to stay with you every moment, but I had to be there for our daughter, it was so much for her to handle.  All the last minute changes, the playing it by ear, that's why I do what I can to not play it by ear, it's a harsh memory of what life had to be, a life where I had to watch the man I loved suffer and there was nothing I could do to ease the pain.  I read to you, I found your favorites as best I could.  I did the best I could, yet I couldn't bring you home, I talked you into staying and you never left, for that I will for ever be sorry.

take care

Ulysses & Main

Ulysses and Main

Joseph Marone

Knowledge is power,  I hate that phrase now. 

I'll never forget that red light as long as I live. 

"How do you make a marriage last 50 years?"
don't get fucking cancer, that's an excellent start

Ulysses and Main, the phone call that changed our lives, life is so fucking unfair. We'd never see 50 years, fuck we never even saw twenty or fifteen for that matter.

I don't want to be learned about. 

Why am I so angry?  Why now? 

Why did You have to take away my friend? 

You both gave something to her.  You planned a special token which holds a very special place in her heart and she sleeps with it every night.  Why didn't you think about something for me?  I don't want to hear the "always in your heart" bull shit, because that's what it is. 

Even the sudden exit didn't prevent a special object to be found.  She keeps it in her pocket.  It was meant as a thank you gift for Christmas for the volunteers.  Again I've got the "always in your heart" bull shit.  I don't know why I am so angry. 

The operating room is coming, she did not come home and I fear he will not either.  I can't believe I'm putting these thoughts into words, something to blame myself for later.  I do not have that kind of power, my thoughts even into words do not have that power.  Does God? Is that a real thing, power of God?  It sounds so blustery.  Power and God don't go together.  I think of comfort, I try to anyway.  I think things just happen in life and we can seek comfort, one of those "always in your heart" kind of comforts and you know how I feel about that.  But, power, no.  Power has such a negative connotation any more.  It goes along with greed. 

I can't answer the question, not honestly, not with words you want to hear. 

You had a way to help me let go of things, I miss that most of all, well there are lots of things I miss most of all.  It's hard for me to wait & see, to not think about the things I can't control.  I miss your yin to my yang. Maybe I'm only remembering the good, like so many people have said happens.

I'm tired, I'm lost, I'm scared.  I don't want to be at the red light on Ulysses and Main.  I'm fearful I'll say too much, go too far, and you'll just be done.  I'm fearful I'll always be the one to give in and later resent myself.

I've had enough.  Where is He now? Where were You five years ago?  Where were You nine months ago?  I don't want to be strong anymore, I've been told by so many people that I am so strong, well fuck you.  I didn't choose to be strong, it's what I fucking am.  I make my choices in life, I do my best to be helpful, to not give the bullshit answer, to actually do something.  I put actions behind my words.  If I tell you I'm there for you, I'm fucking there for you.  You don't even have to ask, I call you, I check on you.  I ask about how you met, I ask about what you did on his birthdays as a young couple, I enjoy your stories, share how I can picture her doing that as a toddler.

She's had so much loss in her young life.  People taken away, she'll not have one Grandma story she can tell, not one.  She barely has any Daddy stories.  She never even transitioned to Dad.  Please don't let there be a red light on Ulysses and Main. 

hurts

I miss you my friend.  It hurts tonight.  I've been working on the yearly project for the group you introduced me to.  I found a passion, a way to help people in our world.  It hurts. You'd be so proud, we have so many projects submitted.  We chose three really great ones to help.  You'd be so proud.  I miss you, my friend, my confidant.  I so miss you.  You understood the role I have of helping with care of my Dad, you shared the same ideas and goals of parenting. I miss you so much, I don't know why tonight, it's so hard.  I went to a funeral the other day, brought back memories of my Mom.  I was 34 when she died, older than your girls.  Life is definitely not fair.  Tomorrow we get more info, a decision to be made.  I remember you calling after the first radiation just to see how things went, to give support. 

I feel friendless. 


take care, 

time

41 or 45
For a moment I couldn't remember how old you would have been on your birthday coming up.  You are not 45 and you will never be 46.  You are no more.  4 years 8 months.  Four years, the amount of time a student starts and graduates from high school.  Taking steps on a path toward the next phase.  Four years, at the most that's the amount of time she has with memories of you.  Soon the amount of time you've been gone will exceed the years of memories she has.  That knowledge, that calculation makes it difficult to breath.  I fear the numbers will be even more cruel when the years with out you will be greater than the years she had you.  I can't bear to do the math a figure out what year that will be.  That day will come.  Dates still haunt me.  Dates of birth, dates of death.  I should close my eyes and go to bed.
5 five
five
five
I'm choking on the empty tonight. 

take care,

At this moment

This is my life at this moment.  How can it be?  The speaker with so many more years under his belt than I was right, it's happening, the songs, the videos, the pictures, the memories are starting to bring a smile to my face instead of tears to my eyes.  Those memories of you my handsome man, my dear friend, not so much.  I watched tonight, I remembered, me with more years under my belt than him.  I recognized that blank stare, going through the motions, keeping things together, I caught the moment he almost lost it but pulled it through in the end.  It didn't hurt to smile, I didn't have to fake it, I didn't have to look away.  I don't know if it's numbers, this being the fifth Christmas without you or the third with my dear.

Your words

"Breathing in second-hand sadness"

"It's not a secret they are gone.  It's not a secret you're sad about it.  It's not even a secret that you will always be sad about it, it's human nature, it's life. Some cultures build rituals & ceremonies around those that they were thankful for that are no longer with us.  Maybe those cultures are just really strong in your blood, your DNA, your evolution of life. " 

"Two years & just now I am learning we are supposed to grieve; it must clean out our soul." 


"... really laugh, the infectious laughter...  I have heard that laugh in her often, I guess people that hurt deeply also love deeply, it's a balance in life."  

"Each time that we breath in a memory of sadness, like oxygen our bodies can't keep it all in & we breathe a little bit of it out again.  Someone near us breathes it in & breathes a little of it out.  Like water, like oxygen it keeps us alive & understanding each other, tying us to each other, linking."

"When life changed, our lives changed with it.  Broken hearts, broken minds led us down dark paths, looking for hope, looking for light, looking for comfort." 

"We chose to continue, to grow & be more together than we were alone.  This is why  I think we were meant to be when we were both ready to begin life again."  

"Walking hand in hand and smile in smile ... I will always know my way home because my home is with you; for whatever time we have in this fleeting world." 

You know me so well and it's only been two years & four months, how can that be?  Is it because we are starting later in our lives?  We don't have our youth to learn each others ways, we were not part of each other in youth.  You've learned so much from that second-hand sadness and you accept it, take it in stride, and learn to love me more.  I'm glad I let down my shields, (yes my dear a slight nod to your SW love) it was scary to do so, you have no idea.  You've read the raw, the anger, the confusion all right here.  You learned to love me broken as I was, you helped mend me.  I'll never be the same as I was, but that's not who you fell in love with, that individual is gone. We didn't have our youth to make history, we only have our experiences in this life.  Such different stories we've lived and now we move forward creating a new tale.  I've spoken of the hollow so many times, tonight I feel like I could burst.  It's the oddest thing, there is sadness and so much joy all at once.  You made me a beautiful video this Christmas & the fact you did, the fact you are ok with hearing stories, even so much as prodding the details of the memory in my mind as it comes across as a laugh or smile and yes even as a tear.  You've learned when I need a bad joke, you've learned when there's nothing to be said, all with not much help from me.  I've never been good at asking for help, yes I'm good at hiding it & you've stuck by my side. 

I realize I've not mentioned his princess in this entry, though she is always on my mind.
Again your words

"Her well being falls partly under my care too now.. so I have been trying to do what little I can"

Merry Christmas to my handsome man, my dear friend, and at this moment to you my dear!

take care

That place

That place.  I was at that place again.  Not the first time since you passed, the first time was for the Mom of my dear friend, my dear friend that is gone now.  That place you died.  I can't remember what floor you were on, for what ever reason I feel really guilty about not being able to remember the floor you were on, the floor you took your last audible breaths, why can't I remember what floor you were on?? I remember where everyone was sitting in the room, what we talked about,  how we even laughed telling stories about you.  Fishing poles and basketballs. 

I was at that place today, I walked by the table near the gift shop where your princess & I did homework because we would go to the hospital right after school to be with you.  It was a time when you were having therapy and needed some privacy and frankly she needed a break, we went down and sat at that table and did homework. 

I was at that place today, the court yard where she ran outside to play to get fresh air and get energy out.  The same court yard I sat in, making phone calls after you went away, after your last breath.  The court yard I just sat and stared into space as what just happened sunk in. 

It all came back, waiting for my name to be called.  I couldn't say anything, I didn't want to upset my dear.  He got upset when I posted pictures out of the blue, nothing significant to trigger it, no date, no event.  I thought he understood that's not how it works, but I try to be sensitive to his feelings so I didn't say anything today, though he is perceptive & maybe just figured it out without saying.  I don't know.  I'm afraid to talk about you lately, ever since that comment about pictures I shared.  I was very reluctant to mention you during a conversation, I feel bad about that, but then I feel bad about mentioning you.  It's a no win situation. 

It was my Mom's birthday the other day, I worked.  It's not as difficult as it is on your birthday.  Does that make me callous? I still miss her, it's just not a painful miss.  Does that even make sense?   Motherless at 35, widow at 40, did the hollow that consumed me at 40 overshadow the darkness at 35?  I watched you both die, literally you both died right in front of my eyes, hearing the last audible breath you each took.  At 35 I had you to hold me, sit with me in silence, be there when I couldn't keep it together. At 40 I had the shower, to be alone when I couldn't hold it together.  You wrote the eulogy I delivered at my Mom's funeral, you wrote the words no one else could say.  I still remember driving all over town to make arrangements and my brother asked who would speak at her funeral.  My brother said he couldn't do it and neither could my Dad.  Honestly I also said I couldn't do it, but when I heard both my brother and Dad couldn't I decided I could find the strength.  I didn't know what to say, I left that to you and  you wrote the most amazing eulogy.  You were so good with words. 

Four years later I would do the same for you, except I wrote it and delivered it.  14 months after I wrote your Mother's eulogy I wrote your obituary.  All these words. 

On the afternoon of April **, R passed away at M Hospital in C Rapids. He was surrounded by family during the last moments of his life. He was 41 years old. R was born CA, on December *. He was preceded in death by his mother, L. R is survived by his dad, M  his loving wife of 13 years and his best friend in life, K; and his beautiful daughter, his princess, C, 8 years old. As a young child, R moved to IA. He spent countless summers in  MO, with his Aunt S and A B. R met K in  IA, in 1998 and they were married on December 1. R was a scholar who cultivated a deep passion for reading, the arts, and culture. He graduated from University with highest honors as a classicist. He attended the University of M graduate program where he loved to teach. However, his most cherished and highest honor was the job title of Daddy. During his final days, many people across the country and from around the world shared their tributes to R, letting him know how much he'd influenced them and enriched their lives.

April will come again and it will be 10   5   1    the years those closest to me have been taken

60 years old  35 of those shared with me. 

41 years old  17 of those shared with me. 

58 years old   7 of those shared with me. 

And now there are numbers.  The dates have come back to hurt me, I'm constantly working with dates of birth.  I was finally letting go of those, no longer thinking in my head, when your child was born my dearest friend was dead, when you celebrate your birthday I am mourning the anniversary of his death. Those thoughts were almost gone, but now they are back with every patient encounter.  

The day has turned and is now tomorrow.  I must stop and try to sleep.  

take care, 

WE'LL figure it out, once again

Looking at the calendar.  Would have been 18 years.  Just a glance at the date. Planning for a meeting that same week to help others and a quick glance at the date.  And puff it's gone.  I'm grateful for my life as it is now.  Yes ups and downs, the waves will always come.  Just now it was quick and sharp, but it's gone.  I still love you and that will always be a part of who I am, you taught me after all.  I'm still learning to love anew and be loved anew. 

There are changes coming to the practicality of my life, but I embrace them and look for the good and make adjustments for the short comings.  Our motto that started in 2013, we'll figure it out, with having two kids out of the blue all the way to dealing with major medical schedules, school schedules and the like just to happen the very next year and a half.  Used "play it by ear" quite a bit too, that has some negative memories for your princess so I try to avoid that one at all costs.  We'll figure it out started as a fun phrase to get one kid to one place and the other kid to the opposite part of town.  We didn't ease in to two kids like so many do, it was one of the best years, so formidable and added to our family in a way I thought never possible.  Shortly after that year I became a solo parent to one kid and the phrase sentiment remained, although it was then "I'll figure it out".  No more we for quite some time.  From time to time it's we, between your princess and me and starting to become we again with my dear.  This is life, four years and seven months without you and life two years and three months with you. 

Maybe the guilt is subsiding, allowing the happiness to remain.  There are still waves and with holidays approaching I'm hoping not to struggle and simply tread water to survive like the holidays of the recent past.  I want to sail, swim, splash, play.  The water just crossed my mind, I wonder if your princess still has that anger or guilt with water.  I use the water as a metaphor for the grief that will always be there, like waves in the ocean.  Growing up with the beach as a place I visited, it has so many memories for me.  It's been a place of fun memories with family and friends and a place of tranquility allowing me to reflect on my own.  For her the water was a place she was when you left this earth, she was in the water having fun and not with you during your last moments.  I think it was better that way, it's hard for me to think of that last audible breath as we all sat waiting for the next, that never came.  It's not the last memory of you  I wanted our little girl of only 8 to have.  I remember saying your name, "Rick", the name you used when I met you and fell in love with you, the name of your youth.  I did not know you as Ricky, though the rest in the room did.  They'd seen you change and grow to the man you became, proud I'm sure. 

I digress as my mind races.  It's nice to be back to the we'll.  Plural and future tense.  I like that.

take care