Posts are not in any apparent order.
I post as my emotions dictate.
Sometimes I write the post and sometimes
I pull from old files of things I have written
in the past. What remains is a microcosm of my life
at the moment....disjointed, ruled by grief and emotions
I can't control, random and rambling sometimes.
Welcome to my world.
“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.”
Sometimes you just gotta put stuff out the Universe...
I am 58 years old. 5 months ago, one of the people I love most in this world died of renal cell carcinoma. (That is kidney cancer, for the uninitiated.) He died 5 years and 2 months from his original diagnosis. He was 50 years old. He was the heart of my heart, the end to my beginning, what made me whole, my world and my love. I miss him.
We were together for 16 years, married for 15 of them, all of them incredible years. We were both married to other people before we found each other; 24 years for me, 11 for him. I was 41 when we met, he was 34 but we had such chemistry, it was off the charts. Age was always "nothin' but a number" in our world. We were perfect together.
When we first got together, we had both left careers and lives behind and we were trying hard to find what fit, what was right for us. We were not doing that together but our individual searches had brought us to the same place, at the same time. Kismet, fate, destiny, Divine Intervention? Could have been any or all. It was just meant to be.
We "met" on a windy beach in Oregon. Back East, we had actually lived within miles of each other. We had been introduced once, 2 years before and again not too long before embarking on our separate journeys. (We both had solid reasons for being on those journeys in the first place, but this is not the time to tell that story.) I knew who he was but I didn't know him. I never asked him about it later on but I am not sure he remembered me at all. So, even though we had crossed paths before Oregon, neither of us had any real concept about the other.
Being 3000 miles from home, a chance meeting with someone from your neighborhood instantly gives you something in common, though, and we became friends almost immediately, once we overcame our initial hesitancy toward each other. When you have been hurt so very, very deeply by someone who is supposed to love you and whom you love, it takes a while to trust yourself with your own feelings again. When you both feel that way, it takes a little longer to dance around the obstacles you've put up for yourself.
Our friendship blossomed into a relationship rather quickly after that initial brief hesitation. The first 2 months we were together (as a couple) we were absolutely inseparable, even though we both knew that it might be temporary. It just felt so good to be close to someone again we both kind of threw caution to the wind. Eventually there would come a time for us to go our separate ways...literally. Me back to the East Coast and him on to Mexico. Those were plans we had set in motion long before we met there on that beach.
When it came time for me to leave, I said to him, "Let's get together when you get back to my part of the country", knowing full well that he was on a personal quest and that he might never come back my way. He said "I really do love you, you know. You will see me again". We promised to try to stay in touch somehow but he was going to be living on a beach in Mexico for the next 4-5 months and then on to who knows where. It seemed like an empty promise.
It took me 4 days to drive back to the East Coast and not a second went by that I didn't think of him. I had let him go, just like that. I was dumbfounded by the emptiness I felt by his absence, so I asked the Universe to bring him back to me someday. I knew I would wait forever for that someday but I fervently hoped that I wouldn't have to wait nearly that long.
Cell phones pretty much didn't exist at that time (hard to believe, I know...) and there had been no way for us to make any kind of contact while we were on the road, so we hadn't spoken at all during those 4 days that I was on the road. I has asked him to write to me when he got to Baja, so that I would know that he had made it there okay and he said he would, so I wasn't surprised when there was already a letter waiting for me when I got home.
It had come the same day I got back and was postmarked in the little town where we had spent that summer together. When I opened it, it was only one paragraph long but the words took my breath away. I will never tell anyone what that letter said. It is too intensely private and personal. But I will tell you that it was the moment that defined the next 16 years of my life and will continue to do so forever. If I never receive another love letter for the rest of my life, that one will be enough.
Of course, after 4 days on the road, driving the 3000 plus miles back to N. C. from Oregon, I was bone weary and in intense need of a hot bath and a cup of tea, just a chance to settle in and try to process what had happened to me in the last 2 months. I was too keyed up to sleep and was just sitting on my bed when the phone rang. It was 2 a.m.
It was Dave. The connection wasn't great and he said he was in a phone booth and sorry that we couldn't hear each other better. I was thrilled to hear from him and asked him if the trip to Baja had been an easy one. There was a moment's heistation and he said that he was not in Mexico, that he was in Texas. I was confused for a minute, thinking something must have gone wrong but when he spoke he said,, "I love you too much to leave you so I am coming home. I'll be there soon as I can get there. Wait for me. You are what I have been searching for and I don't need to look anywhere else. I won't let you go again."
We were together for 16 years, married for 15 of them, all of them incredible years. We were both married to other people before we found each other; 24 years for me, 11 for him. I was 41 when we met, he was 34 but we had such chemistry, it was off the charts. Age was always "nothin' but a number" in our world. We were perfect together.
When we first got together, we had both left careers and lives behind and we were trying hard to find what fit, what was right for us. We were not doing that together but our individual searches had brought us to the same place, at the same time. Kismet, fate, destiny, Divine Intervention? Could have been any or all. It was just meant to be.
We "met" on a windy beach in Oregon. Back East, we had actually lived within miles of each other. We had been introduced once, 2 years before and again not too long before embarking on our separate journeys. (We both had solid reasons for being on those journeys in the first place, but this is not the time to tell that story.) I knew who he was but I didn't know him. I never asked him about it later on but I am not sure he remembered me at all. So, even though we had crossed paths before Oregon, neither of us had any real concept about the other.
Being 3000 miles from home, a chance meeting with someone from your neighborhood instantly gives you something in common, though, and we became friends almost immediately, once we overcame our initial hesitancy toward each other. When you have been hurt so very, very deeply by someone who is supposed to love you and whom you love, it takes a while to trust yourself with your own feelings again. When you both feel that way, it takes a little longer to dance around the obstacles you've put up for yourself.
Our friendship blossomed into a relationship rather quickly after that initial brief hesitation. The first 2 months we were together (as a couple) we were absolutely inseparable, even though we both knew that it might be temporary. It just felt so good to be close to someone again we both kind of threw caution to the wind. Eventually there would come a time for us to go our separate ways...literally. Me back to the East Coast and him on to Mexico. Those were plans we had set in motion long before we met there on that beach.
When it came time for me to leave, I said to him, "Let's get together when you get back to my part of the country", knowing full well that he was on a personal quest and that he might never come back my way. He said "I really do love you, you know. You will see me again". We promised to try to stay in touch somehow but he was going to be living on a beach in Mexico for the next 4-5 months and then on to who knows where. It seemed like an empty promise.
It took me 4 days to drive back to the East Coast and not a second went by that I didn't think of him. I had let him go, just like that. I was dumbfounded by the emptiness I felt by his absence, so I asked the Universe to bring him back to me someday. I knew I would wait forever for that someday but I fervently hoped that I wouldn't have to wait nearly that long.
Cell phones pretty much didn't exist at that time (hard to believe, I know...) and there had been no way for us to make any kind of contact while we were on the road, so we hadn't spoken at all during those 4 days that I was on the road. I has asked him to write to me when he got to Baja, so that I would know that he had made it there okay and he said he would, so I wasn't surprised when there was already a letter waiting for me when I got home.
It had come the same day I got back and was postmarked in the little town where we had spent that summer together. When I opened it, it was only one paragraph long but the words took my breath away. I will never tell anyone what that letter said. It is too intensely private and personal. But I will tell you that it was the moment that defined the next 16 years of my life and will continue to do so forever. If I never receive another love letter for the rest of my life, that one will be enough.
Of course, after 4 days on the road, driving the 3000 plus miles back to N. C. from Oregon, I was bone weary and in intense need of a hot bath and a cup of tea, just a chance to settle in and try to process what had happened to me in the last 2 months. I was too keyed up to sleep and was just sitting on my bed when the phone rang. It was 2 a.m.
It was Dave. The connection wasn't great and he said he was in a phone booth and sorry that we couldn't hear each other better. I was thrilled to hear from him and asked him if the trip to Baja had been an easy one. There was a moment's heistation and he said that he was not in Mexico, that he was in Texas. I was confused for a minute, thinking something must have gone wrong but when he spoke he said,, "I love you too much to leave you so I am coming home. I'll be there soon as I can get there. Wait for me. You are what I have been searching for and I don't need to look anywhere else. I won't let you go again."
I don't want to give the impression that Dave was perfect in every way. But the truth of it is that he really didn't have many faults. He could occasionally be impatient, but that was usually after he had been patient for a long time (I was usually the one he had been patient with). He had little tolerance for anyone who was not truthful. Shallowness and "fronting" were two things he could not abide. He frequently was exasperated with his mother, but he wasn't the only one on that count.
He believed in and tried to see only the good in people and would frequently call me out when I would get frustrated about someone and say something that might be less than kind. That was a great lesson I learned from him, to think and consider everything before I say it. "Words have power" he used to tell me and so I have learned to wield that power with restraint, something that was not true before I met him.
He believed in and tried to see only the good in people and would frequently call me out when I would get frustrated about someone and say something that might be less than kind. That was a great lesson I learned from him, to think and consider everything before I say it. "Words have power" he used to tell me and so I have learned to wield that power with restraint, something that was not true before I met him.
Dave's connection with nature went way beyond what most people experience. His acute observations about the natural order of things was a gift from the Universe. His ability to see the connection between all living things was something that I believe he was born with. I have seen Dave do things that most people simply would not believe if they didn't witness them firsthand. Fortunately for me, I was able to do just that.
Dave was also a licensed falconer and we shared our life with a red tailed hawk named Pteri for the better part of 10 years. To live with a truly wild creature is something that most people never get to experience. To understand the reason the wild hawk soars is to understand this incredible man that I shared my life. He opened my eyes to so many things that it takes my breath away even now that he is gone from this reality. The text below is from writings about Animal Totems as they relate to shamanism and the spiritual path. Dave was a natural mystic in the truest sense of the phrase and was considerably farther down the path to enlightenment than most people can ever hope to come.
Obviously, he believed that his personal totem was the Red Tailed Hawk. The following words could well have been written by someone who knew Dave intimately. They could have been written specifically about him. Much of what is written below is about the quest for control and proper use of these powerful attributes and I am proud to say that Dave used his many gifts in the most benevelont and peaceful way.
He was truly the most amazing man...
**********************************************************************************
Spirit of Red Tailed Hawk
Latent Power
When observing the Red Tailed Hawk, the most distinguishing characteristics and attributes of these splendid birds of prey, are their eyesight, sharp talons that adorn their feet, and their vibrant red tail feathers. These are the very characteristics that reflect the Latent Power of this member of the Hawk family.
For purposes of examining the keyword of ~Latent Power,~ we begin with the Hawk`s sharp talons. In the wild, a Hawk`s talons are instruments of deadly precision. The talons will grasp their prey in a merciless grip while the beak rips and shreds in the quest for survival.
The second component to observe in the Red Tailed Hawk as it pertains to the key word of ~Latent Power,~ are the vibrant red tail feathers of the mature Hawk. These feathers are a Gift of maturation, and the power and energy that they represent for the two-legged with this raptor as a Primary Totem is very significant.
For the two-legged beside whom Red Tail Hawk flies, a sharp mind will be evident, and these souls will possess the ability to perceive the subtlest of nuances that might escape other less "observant" individuals. Although this may be a tremendous Gift in assisting the Red Hawk Soul in the business world (and less ~intimate~ arenas of their daily Life), this same gift of communication and sharp intellect can also be used as a weapon, and words may become like the sharp beak and unrelenting talons of their Totem when these individuals are either attacked, or if they are operating from an unintegrated Personality Center.
There may be situations and circumstances when there is a need for the type of more ~direct~ speech that the Red Hawk Soul is capable of, and in those circumstances, the use of this inherent talent serves the individual well. Yet part of the evolutionary process for the Red Tailed Hawk individual, is in learning how to master this gift and wield its great power with conscious awareness, ever-mindful of its potential for either great insight, or great damage. When the Red Hawk Soul is then operating from such Higher Intent, these are the natural born investigators, psychics, attorneys and observers that deploy their acumen for insight and direct speech in a constructive, rather than destructive, manner.
Looking at the next component in understanding the Red Tailed Hawk`s Power, are the beautiful red tail feathers which distinguish this Hawk from other cousins. This Hawk does not receive his/her red feathers until a sufficient level of maturation has been achieved. When looking to the human beside whom Red Hawk flies, this is quite significant as well, for it indicates that the Red Feathers are not easily given, and must instead be "earned."
When witnessed in Nature, the color Red represents Power, Energy, and the Kundalini. The Kundalini is the Force that directs the flow of all other energy fields within the physical body. This Force lies dormant within each of us when we take up the ~Robe of Physical Life, and is thought to lie coiled at the ~base chakra~ (located near the base of the spine) and referred to as the ~Serpent Power.~
There the Power lies sleeping until it is awakened via the Soul who begins the journey on the road of spiritual discovery and who is consciously acknowledging and incorporating their Life Lessons.
Some envision the Kundalini as a powerful sexual energy, yet to view it thus is to limit the true breadth and power of this fundamental energy, for it is then keeping that energy coiled at the base chakra (sexual center), rather than encouraging it to reach further and higher. At the time the energy is awakened, it begins to rise up through the other six energy centers (chakras). As it passes through each of these chakras, the lessons, issues and areas of our lives which are symbolized and or ~governed~ by these energy centers, are opened for our acknowledgment through the process of Conscious Awareness. Thus, when the Kundalini has completely uncoiled, its energy unfurled along the length of the spine and flowing easily through all seven energy points to emerge through the top (or ~Crown~) Chakra, a state of ~Enlightenment~ is experienced.
This is a gradual process however, and should never be forced or pushed, for those who have attempted to do so, often experience either physical or mental/emotional collapse that can end one in a visit to the hospital or seriously ill. Hence, the symbolism of the Red Tail Feathers emerging only after sufficient maturation. For the two-legged with this Animal Totem, this indicates the need to approach spiritual awakening in a gradual, careful and conscious manner.
Yet once this fundamental energy unfurls as the Red Tail Feathers emerge, the beauty and depth of Spirit that shines brilliantly forth, will be both inspiration and guidance for Others who may be just beginning, or in the process of, their own awakening.***
The Visionary
All Hawks are renowned for their visual acuity, with members of the Hawk and Owl family possessing the greatest vision of all raptors. Red Tailed Hawks will utilize this powerful vision while soaring on the wind’s currents far above that they may have a broad field of vision with which to discover, then track, their intended prey.
***Red Tailed Hawk will soar beside the Two-Legged whose own gift of psychic vision may be exceptionally acute. This may take the form of precognitive dreams and/or ~visions~ during which these souls are quite literally able to "see the future."
If the gift of vision is not present from birth, then there will exist within the Red Hawk soul, the ability to pierce the veil that separates falsehood from truth. They will also possess an intensive gaze that can leave those who might find themselves the object of such a gaze, squirming under the penetrating stare.
Equally, Red Tailed Hawk individual, will have the ability to view the broad picture, in much the same fashion that a Hawk can gain a wide view of their surroundings while soaring on the unseen currents of wind as they ride the sky. The human counterpart will be a believer in the philosophy that all things happen for a reason, and it will be this awareness of the ~Big Picture,~ that will assist both themselves, and those whom they share their gift of keen insight with, through many a difficult time***
Guardianship
In the following quote, Chief Seattle eloquently expresses the concept of Guardianship. "What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected.
You must teach the children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother.
Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves. This we know, the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth.“ ~Chief Seattle~
***Part of the Role for the two-legged beside whom Red Tailed Hawk flies is that of Guardian of the Earth Mother. These are individuals who will possess an astute awareness of the concept of the interconnectedness of all things, and will have an inner reverence for all life.
These are the souls that are involved in making the world a better place, whether locally or globally. They will be protectors of the Earth Mother and tread softly upon her, encouraging and educating ~Others~ to do the same.
Often, they are either found initiating or actively involved in environmental causes, where their keen perception and insight will serve their chosen ~cause~ well. Yet it is their day to day existence and fundamental philosophy/foundation of action and belief, that distinguishes these individuals as true champions of Mother Earth as they seek to live in harmony with the ~Ina Maka~ and all that She births, provides, nurtures and sustains.***
-Text taken from the website
http://wolfs_moon.tripod.com/RedHawkTotem.html
Spirit of Red Tailed Hawk
Latent Power
When observing the Red Tailed Hawk, the most distinguishing characteristics and attributes of these splendid birds of prey, are their eyesight, sharp talons that adorn their feet, and their vibrant red tail feathers. These are the very characteristics that reflect the Latent Power of this member of the Hawk family.
For purposes of examining the keyword of ~Latent Power,~ we begin with the Hawk`s sharp talons. In the wild, a Hawk`s talons are instruments of deadly precision. The talons will grasp their prey in a merciless grip while the beak rips and shreds in the quest for survival.
The second component to observe in the Red Tailed Hawk as it pertains to the key word of ~Latent Power,~ are the vibrant red tail feathers of the mature Hawk. These feathers are a Gift of maturation, and the power and energy that they represent for the two-legged with this raptor as a Primary Totem is very significant.
For the two-legged beside whom Red Tail Hawk flies, a sharp mind will be evident, and these souls will possess the ability to perceive the subtlest of nuances that might escape other less "observant" individuals. Although this may be a tremendous Gift in assisting the Red Hawk Soul in the business world (and less ~intimate~ arenas of their daily Life), this same gift of communication and sharp intellect can also be used as a weapon, and words may become like the sharp beak and unrelenting talons of their Totem when these individuals are either attacked, or if they are operating from an unintegrated Personality Center.
There may be situations and circumstances when there is a need for the type of more ~direct~ speech that the Red Hawk Soul is capable of, and in those circumstances, the use of this inherent talent serves the individual well. Yet part of the evolutionary process for the Red Tailed Hawk individual, is in learning how to master this gift and wield its great power with conscious awareness, ever-mindful of its potential for either great insight, or great damage. When the Red Hawk Soul is then operating from such Higher Intent, these are the natural born investigators, psychics, attorneys and observers that deploy their acumen for insight and direct speech in a constructive, rather than destructive, manner.
Looking at the next component in understanding the Red Tailed Hawk`s Power, are the beautiful red tail feathers which distinguish this Hawk from other cousins. This Hawk does not receive his/her red feathers until a sufficient level of maturation has been achieved. When looking to the human beside whom Red Hawk flies, this is quite significant as well, for it indicates that the Red Feathers are not easily given, and must instead be "earned."
When witnessed in Nature, the color Red represents Power, Energy, and the Kundalini. The Kundalini is the Force that directs the flow of all other energy fields within the physical body. This Force lies dormant within each of us when we take up the ~Robe of Physical Life, and is thought to lie coiled at the ~base chakra~ (located near the base of the spine) and referred to as the ~Serpent Power.~
There the Power lies sleeping until it is awakened via the Soul who begins the journey on the road of spiritual discovery and who is consciously acknowledging and incorporating their Life Lessons.
Some envision the Kundalini as a powerful sexual energy, yet to view it thus is to limit the true breadth and power of this fundamental energy, for it is then keeping that energy coiled at the base chakra (sexual center), rather than encouraging it to reach further and higher. At the time the energy is awakened, it begins to rise up through the other six energy centers (chakras). As it passes through each of these chakras, the lessons, issues and areas of our lives which are symbolized and or ~governed~ by these energy centers, are opened for our acknowledgment through the process of Conscious Awareness. Thus, when the Kundalini has completely uncoiled, its energy unfurled along the length of the spine and flowing easily through all seven energy points to emerge through the top (or ~Crown~) Chakra, a state of ~Enlightenment~ is experienced.
This is a gradual process however, and should never be forced or pushed, for those who have attempted to do so, often experience either physical or mental/emotional collapse that can end one in a visit to the hospital or seriously ill. Hence, the symbolism of the Red Tail Feathers emerging only after sufficient maturation. For the two-legged with this Animal Totem, this indicates the need to approach spiritual awakening in a gradual, careful and conscious manner.
Yet once this fundamental energy unfurls as the Red Tail Feathers emerge, the beauty and depth of Spirit that shines brilliantly forth, will be both inspiration and guidance for Others who may be just beginning, or in the process of, their own awakening.***
The Visionary
All Hawks are renowned for their visual acuity, with members of the Hawk and Owl family possessing the greatest vision of all raptors. Red Tailed Hawks will utilize this powerful vision while soaring on the wind’s currents far above that they may have a broad field of vision with which to discover, then track, their intended prey.
***Red Tailed Hawk will soar beside the Two-Legged whose own gift of psychic vision may be exceptionally acute. This may take the form of precognitive dreams and/or ~visions~ during which these souls are quite literally able to "see the future."
If the gift of vision is not present from birth, then there will exist within the Red Hawk soul, the ability to pierce the veil that separates falsehood from truth. They will also possess an intensive gaze that can leave those who might find themselves the object of such a gaze, squirming under the penetrating stare.
Equally, Red Tailed Hawk individual, will have the ability to view the broad picture, in much the same fashion that a Hawk can gain a wide view of their surroundings while soaring on the unseen currents of wind as they ride the sky. The human counterpart will be a believer in the philosophy that all things happen for a reason, and it will be this awareness of the ~Big Picture,~ that will assist both themselves, and those whom they share their gift of keen insight with, through many a difficult time***
Guardianship
In the following quote, Chief Seattle eloquently expresses the concept of Guardianship. "What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected.
You must teach the children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother.
Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves. This we know, the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth.“ ~Chief Seattle~
***Part of the Role for the two-legged beside whom Red Tailed Hawk flies is that of Guardian of the Earth Mother. These are individuals who will possess an astute awareness of the concept of the interconnectedness of all things, and will have an inner reverence for all life.
These are the souls that are involved in making the world a better place, whether locally or globally. They will be protectors of the Earth Mother and tread softly upon her, encouraging and educating ~Others~ to do the same.
Often, they are either found initiating or actively involved in environmental causes, where their keen perception and insight will serve their chosen ~cause~ well. Yet it is their day to day existence and fundamental philosophy/foundation of action and belief, that distinguishes these individuals as true champions of Mother Earth as they seek to live in harmony with the ~Ina Maka~ and all that She births, provides, nurtures and sustains.***
-Text taken from the website
http://wolfs_moon.tripod.com/RedHawkTotem.html
Writing and posting here is my cleansing ritual, my catharsis, a way to purge all the sadness and anguish that comes with intense grief. It is not about my journey to a better place or how I found love again after losing my spouse, as many blogs written by widows are. Although I hope some of that comes through the writing, it isn't the focus or even the intention. All of the things here are about emotions, feelings, coping, remembering. Maybe someday I will be able to write about how I got past all the pain and grief of losing the person who meant the world to me but that day isn't now. If you don't want to read about an incredible and real love story, then this blog isn't for you. And it isn't for anyone else anyway. It is for me...and for Dave.
Saying our goodbyes
I read alot of the things that other people post about the death of their loved ones, usually spouses, since I belong mostly to widow/widower's groups. It touches my heart to read about the love that people shared and their brave battles with cancer, heart disease and so on. But not everybody whose stories I read lost a loved one to a long term disease. Some of them lost their loved ones to sudden illnesses, accidents, addictions or for other reasons. Those stories kind of rip my heart out because I know that those people usually didn't have time to say their goodbyes.
I was very lucky in that way. Dave was sick for a long time but he never lost any of himself. Other than some confusion the last couple of weeks (which could have been from the massive doses of pain meds he was on by then) he was still "in there", meaning that he could still talk to me and for the most part, he understood everything I said to him and vice versa. We had some interesting conversations, too. When we pretty much knew he was approaching the end of his life, we spent most every waking hour together. We talked, we laughed, we hugged (as much as possible...the cancer was ravaging his bones and it made too much contact excrutiatingly painful for him), we touched, we said "I love you" so many times I don't think I could have counted them.
About three weeks before he died, his sister came to visit and he kept saying things to her from their childhood. Just little phrases and then suddenly, during that visit, he started saying in a rather loud voice, "C'mon, ya'll, you have got to let me go. Just let me go. I've need to go." His mother thought he was trying to say that he needed to "go" but finally I said to her that he was talking about us letting him go, not holding onto him any longer. He was ready for his pain to end.
I had known that for a while and I had already told him that I didn't want him suffering anymore and when he was ready, it was okay, that I would miss him so much, but that I would be fine. He had responded to me by repeating over and over "just you and me, together forever." After that conversation, he said that to me often and always with a little smile and if we were holding hands, he would squeeze mine just a little bit and close his eyes.
Those are the memories I will hold onto. I have pushed all of the bad memories of those last few weeks out of my head, except for one. That I was not there with him when he died.
Dave was staying at his mother's home because it was so much larger than ours. Our tiny house was hard to negotiate with his walker. We didn't have a television (our choice) and he couldn't sit up enough to read, so there was little distraction for him there. He had audiobooks on his Ipod but he liked the physical task of reading and he didn't like listening to someone else read so boredom was a problem. His mom had 300 channels, although we still had a hard time finding anything to watch. Plus, her house had been outfitted with a handicapped shower and toilets when his dad was sick, two years prior. It was just so much easier on him being there although he never stopped saying "We've still got a plan, right?". That was his code phrase for asking me when I thought he might come back home to our house. I always told him as soon as it was possible but I think he knew he would never set foot in our little house again.
The night he died I had gone home to sleep. Our house was only 300 steps away, next door. I was a phone call away. I was bone tired that night and I had gone home around 11pm to sleep in our bed because I couldn't get any sleep at his mother's house. And since we lived on a farm and I had chores that needed doing early in the morning, it was just easier for me to sleep at our house at night. His mom and I didn't agree on many things and it was stressful on both of us to be together so much and this way we could both have a break. His mom could be there with him during the night, just the two of them. He was usually asleep, anyway, thanks to his meds.
He died sometime in the early morning hours, most likely of congestive heart failure. We had had no inkling that he was so close to death. The Hopsice nurse had been there that day and had not made any mention that we might want to stay close. Since he had not had a single visit from the Hospice physician since they had stepped in, we had not had any tangible contact with anyone to prepare us for what to expect because I would not have left his side for a single moment if I had even suspected. I had promised him that I would be there with him at that last moment and I will always feel like I broke that promise to him.
Even though I think about that last night quite a bit, I have forgiven myself because I know he has forgiven me. And sometimes, I have to wonder if he did not choose that time to leave his earthly body because I wasn't there. It would be just like him to try to protect me like that, even at the very end. I would have done the same for him.
I was very lucky in that way. Dave was sick for a long time but he never lost any of himself. Other than some confusion the last couple of weeks (which could have been from the massive doses of pain meds he was on by then) he was still "in there", meaning that he could still talk to me and for the most part, he understood everything I said to him and vice versa. We had some interesting conversations, too. When we pretty much knew he was approaching the end of his life, we spent most every waking hour together. We talked, we laughed, we hugged (as much as possible...the cancer was ravaging his bones and it made too much contact excrutiatingly painful for him), we touched, we said "I love you" so many times I don't think I could have counted them.
About three weeks before he died, his sister came to visit and he kept saying things to her from their childhood. Just little phrases and then suddenly, during that visit, he started saying in a rather loud voice, "C'mon, ya'll, you have got to let me go. Just let me go. I've need to go." His mother thought he was trying to say that he needed to "go" but finally I said to her that he was talking about us letting him go, not holding onto him any longer. He was ready for his pain to end.
I had known that for a while and I had already told him that I didn't want him suffering anymore and when he was ready, it was okay, that I would miss him so much, but that I would be fine. He had responded to me by repeating over and over "just you and me, together forever." After that conversation, he said that to me often and always with a little smile and if we were holding hands, he would squeeze mine just a little bit and close his eyes.
Those are the memories I will hold onto. I have pushed all of the bad memories of those last few weeks out of my head, except for one. That I was not there with him when he died.
Dave was staying at his mother's home because it was so much larger than ours. Our tiny house was hard to negotiate with his walker. We didn't have a television (our choice) and he couldn't sit up enough to read, so there was little distraction for him there. He had audiobooks on his Ipod but he liked the physical task of reading and he didn't like listening to someone else read so boredom was a problem. His mom had 300 channels, although we still had a hard time finding anything to watch. Plus, her house had been outfitted with a handicapped shower and toilets when his dad was sick, two years prior. It was just so much easier on him being there although he never stopped saying "We've still got a plan, right?". That was his code phrase for asking me when I thought he might come back home to our house. I always told him as soon as it was possible but I think he knew he would never set foot in our little house again.
The night he died I had gone home to sleep. Our house was only 300 steps away, next door. I was a phone call away. I was bone tired that night and I had gone home around 11pm to sleep in our bed because I couldn't get any sleep at his mother's house. And since we lived on a farm and I had chores that needed doing early in the morning, it was just easier for me to sleep at our house at night. His mom and I didn't agree on many things and it was stressful on both of us to be together so much and this way we could both have a break. His mom could be there with him during the night, just the two of them. He was usually asleep, anyway, thanks to his meds.
He died sometime in the early morning hours, most likely of congestive heart failure. We had had no inkling that he was so close to death. The Hopsice nurse had been there that day and had not made any mention that we might want to stay close. Since he had not had a single visit from the Hospice physician since they had stepped in, we had not had any tangible contact with anyone to prepare us for what to expect because I would not have left his side for a single moment if I had even suspected. I had promised him that I would be there with him at that last moment and I will always feel like I broke that promise to him.
Even though I think about that last night quite a bit, I have forgiven myself because I know he has forgiven me. And sometimes, I have to wonder if he did not choose that time to leave his earthly body because I wasn't there. It would be just like him to try to protect me like that, even at the very end. I would have done the same for him.
Blessing of the Buddha
Just as the soft rains fill the streams,
pour into the rivers and join together in the oceans,
so may the power of every moment of your goodness
flow forth to awaken and heal all beings,
Those here now, those gone before, those yet to come.
By the power of every moment of your goodness
May your heart's wishes be soon fulfilled
as completely shining as the bright full moon,
as magically as by a wish-fulfilling gem.
By the power of every moment of your goodness
May all dangers be averted and all disease be gone.
May no obstacle come across your way.
May you enjoy fulfillment and long life.
For all in whose heart dwells respect,
who follow the wisdom and compassion, of the Way,
May your life prosper in the four blessings
of old age, beauty, happiness and strength.
pour into the rivers and join together in the oceans,
so may the power of every moment of your goodness
flow forth to awaken and heal all beings,
Those here now, those gone before, those yet to come.
By the power of every moment of your goodness
May your heart's wishes be soon fulfilled
as completely shining as the bright full moon,
as magically as by a wish-fulfilling gem.
By the power of every moment of your goodness
May all dangers be averted and all disease be gone.
May no obstacle come across your way.
May you enjoy fulfillment and long life.
For all in whose heart dwells respect,
who follow the wisdom and compassion, of the Way,
May your life prosper in the four blessings
of old age, beauty, happiness and strength.
OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me,
Whispering, I love you, before long I die,
I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you,
For I could not die till I once look’d on you,
For I fear’d I might afterward lose you.
Now we have met, we have look’d, we are safe;
Return in peace to the ocean, my love;
I too am part of that ocean, my love—we are not so much separated;
Behold the great rondure—the cohesion of all, how perfect!
But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us,
As for an hour, carrying us diverse—yet cannot carry us diverse for ever;
Be not impatient—a little space—Know you, I salute the air, the ocean and the
land, Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.
Whispering, I love you, before long I die,
I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you,
For I could not die till I once look’d on you,
For I fear’d I might afterward lose you.
Now we have met, we have look’d, we are safe;
Return in peace to the ocean, my love;
I too am part of that ocean, my love—we are not so much separated;
Behold the great rondure—the cohesion of all, how perfect!
But as for me, for you, the irresistible sea is to separate us,
As for an hour, carrying us diverse—yet cannot carry us diverse for ever;
Be not impatient—a little space—Know you, I salute the air, the ocean and the
land, Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my love.
Just Breathe
I was part of something wonderful, something real.
I was cared for and loved by an incredible man.
And then, he died.
Now I am alone, I am part of nothing,
in limbo, floating on a sea filled with terrors you can't imagine.
The surface is black and oily and swimming
just underneath that surface, threatening to pull me under
are vile nightmare creatures.
Creatures with names you have heard before -
Desolation, Heartache, Anguish, Despair, Misery, Sorrow.
Any one of them might call to me their siren song and
lure me to my own demise.
And yet I struggle against them
when they pull me down, gasping for air and
trying desperately to reach the surface again,
so I can just breathe.
Just breathe.
Just...
breathe...
Dirty socks in the hamper
I am mourning the death of my beloved, my husband Dave, who died just a little over three weeks ago. Cancer took him away from me. Some days I find that I can handle it okay and other days I feel like I am going to die myself. I read some stuff about grief recently and keeping a journal and writing stuff down was one of the ways that was suggested to deal with the emotions that come at these times.
I think that it might help because I have already begun to write things about my life with Dave and have been sharing them with others, on paper, in my blog. That helps me a lot because I don't want ANY of my memories of him to fade even a shade. And so I have begun chronicling those memories. In 20 years, I want to look back and still see his beautiful, handsome face as clearly as I do today, not gaunt and ravaged by the cancer, but vibrant and so full of love and life that he made my heart sing every time I looked at him. He was an extraordinary man and I was blessed beyond words to have been loved by him and to have spent 16 years with him. My only regret about our life together -the only regret I have - is that I didn't find him sooner in my life, that way I could have had some more time with him.
Today I am not having a very good day. Yesterday, I was shopping at the market with my mom and suddenly it hit me that I don't have anybody to cook for now. Nobody to be the tester (or maybe victim would be a better choice of titles) for my kitchen experiments anymore. We have been organic farmers for the last 10 years and so food has been a tremendous part of our life (when you sell veggies to people, you have to be able to tell them what to do with them...) and now there is nobody to share that with me.
I am finding that my grief comes at me from the most unexpected things. Dirty socks in the hamper, a favorite shirt, a song on the radio. I feel paralyzed sometimes because I am afraid of what might trigger a meltdown and so I just sit in a chair, hugging my knees to my chest and cry. Why is this happening to me, why did Dave have to be the one to die so young, why did he leave me all alone? Questions, questions, questions and not an answer in sight. Maybe writing my feelings down will give me those answers or at least let me understand just a little bit.
(Originally written in April, 2010)
Someone outside my family mentioned that this blog only talks about my life with Dave. I explained that is rightly so. Simply put, this blog is dedicated to my life with Dave and I am writing it to help me move away from this intense grief I feel. If I do not make much mention of other family members, it is only because the purpose of this blog is to help me heal and to honor and remember this person I loved so very much. My family knows how much I love and appreciate them and they understand...
Dave loved the ocean. He loved the water, the waves, the smell, the taste of the ocean. Everything about it. It was his place of spirit, where he found solace and peace in his life. It called to him like a siren song and he answered that call as often as he could because it was like a balm to his soul. He was passionate about things he cared deeply about. Two of his greatest passions were the ocean and me. The intensity of that passion might have been overwhelming for another but for me, it only matched what I felt for him and we completed each other.
We spent the first 6 years of our life together, living by the ocean, first the Atlantic and then the Pacific and we were never happier than when we were close to Mother Ocean. We lived on the Outer Banks of our native North Carolina and we lived on the wild and isolated coast of Oregon, spending much of our time on the beaches. When we were by the ocean, no matter what the season, in all kinds of weather, from Atlantic hurricanes to Pacific winter storms with 100 knot winds, we were always awed by the beauty and power of the ocean when she was at her wildest.
In another month, it will be time for me to begin to fulfill my promise to the man I love. He told me the first month I knew him that when he died, he wanted a Viking funeral and asked me if I would do that for him. (Many times I have wondered whatever made him ask such a thing of someone he had only known for such a short time. Did he have an inkling of his destiny, even then? Now I think I know the answer but that is for me alone to ponder. Most people simple wouldn't get it.)
I thought about his request for a while and then I explained to him that I would do anything he asked of me but I wasn't sure that the "authorities" would take too kindly to me hauling his remains down to the beach and setting him adrift, especially if the vessel was on fire but I would try my damnedest to see that his send off would be as close as I could get to what he wanted. He agreed that would do nicely. We talked about that Viking funeral again, several times during the last 6 months of his life and I assured him again that I would honor his wishes.
As soon as the winds kick up in the fall, it will be time to take Dave's ashes and begin to scatter them to the Four Directions. It won't be a Viking funeral, but it is as close as I can come to honoring his request. I will also honor his belief in the medicine wheel, the Circle of Life. The Four Directions -North, South, East and West- all have strong meaning in Native American spirituality. They also had strong meaning for him.
"Among the People, a child's first Teaching is of the Four Great Powers of the Medicine Wheel. To the North is found Wisdom. The South is the place of Innocence and Trust. The West is the Looks-Within Place, which speaks to our introspective Nature. The East is the Place of Illumination, where we can see things clearly, far and wide. At birth, each of us is given a particular Beginning Place within these Four Great Directions. This Starting Place gives us our first way of perceiving things, which will then be our easiest and most natural way througout our lives. But any person who perceives from only one of these Four Great Directions will remain a partial man."
We spent the first 6 years of our life together, living by the ocean, first the Atlantic and then the Pacific and we were never happier than when we were close to Mother Ocean. We lived on the Outer Banks of our native North Carolina and we lived on the wild and isolated coast of Oregon, spending much of our time on the beaches. When we were by the ocean, no matter what the season, in all kinds of weather, from Atlantic hurricanes to Pacific winter storms with 100 knot winds, we were always awed by the beauty and power of the ocean when she was at her wildest.
In another month, it will be time for me to begin to fulfill my promise to the man I love. He told me the first month I knew him that when he died, he wanted a Viking funeral and asked me if I would do that for him. (Many times I have wondered whatever made him ask such a thing of someone he had only known for such a short time. Did he have an inkling of his destiny, even then? Now I think I know the answer but that is for me alone to ponder. Most people simple wouldn't get it.)
I thought about his request for a while and then I explained to him that I would do anything he asked of me but I wasn't sure that the "authorities" would take too kindly to me hauling his remains down to the beach and setting him adrift, especially if the vessel was on fire but I would try my damnedest to see that his send off would be as close as I could get to what he wanted. He agreed that would do nicely. We talked about that Viking funeral again, several times during the last 6 months of his life and I assured him again that I would honor his wishes.
As soon as the winds kick up in the fall, it will be time to take Dave's ashes and begin to scatter them to the Four Directions. It won't be a Viking funeral, but it is as close as I can come to honoring his request. I will also honor his belief in the medicine wheel, the Circle of Life. The Four Directions -North, South, East and West- all have strong meaning in Native American spirituality. They also had strong meaning for him.
"Among the People, a child's first Teaching is of the Four Great Powers of the Medicine Wheel. To the North is found Wisdom. The South is the place of Innocence and Trust. The West is the Looks-Within Place, which speaks to our introspective Nature. The East is the Place of Illumination, where we can see things clearly, far and wide. At birth, each of us is given a particular Beginning Place within these Four Great Directions. This Starting Place gives us our first way of perceiving things, which will then be our easiest and most natural way througout our lives. But any person who perceives from only one of these Four Great Directions will remain a partial man."
That quoted paragraph was taken from The Seven Arrows by Hyemeyohsts Storm, a book that Dave read at least several times. While I can't explain the whys for it here (much too complicated), he felt strongly that he had experienced something profound in places located in those four directions and so I will return him to those places. I will not be able to get to the West and South this season, so I will wait until next summer to complete my task. And then, with the exception of the tiny portion that will abide with his loved ones, the remains of his earthly body will rest in the arms of Mother Ocean. He will have come Full Circle. I know that he will rest well in those places and I will not deny him that rest.
How do you know when you have met your soul twin?
- There is a powerful and instantaneous feeling that you have know the other before.
- Chances are you met through unusual circumstances that were totally unplanned and unexpected.
- You feel an immediate and deep connection to one another. You both recognize that the two of you and your meeting and relationship are connected by Source.
- There is an electrifying feeling between the two of you that words cannot describe.
- The relationship is immediate, as though no time has been lost since you were last together.
- It feels as though you never really lived before the reunion occurred. You experience a sense of completeness that is without comparison.
- You feel a deep sense of sacredness and unity with Source that you 've never known before.
- The relationship brings on feelings that you never thought possible.
- The two of you are inseparable.
- When you look into each other's eyes, time and space have no meaning.
- There are no barriers between the two of you. The relationship is a totally open one.
- Your conversations seem to go on forever.
- The two of you have a strong urge to serve humanity in a deep and meaningful way.
- You each give to the other and never think of receiving in return.
- There is a special sacredness to your relationship that transcends anything you have ever experienced.
- You may still have karma with your twin from previous lives but the two of you resolve it all with total forgiveness and unconditional love.
- Neither one of you are dependent on the other for your sense of self.
- There is a strong sense of unlimited eternity to your feelings.
- Your feelings for each other are very spiritual.
- There are no restrictions within the relationship. All is freedom without need for ownership or control.
- The two of you know with any doubt that you have been brought together for a reason.
- You do not compete with one another nor do you pretend to be other than you are.
- Even though there is much sameness about the two of you, there is no doubt that you feel a sense of completion through the other.
- Trust patience and acceptance of each other's weaknesses happen automatically, with thought or judgement.
- There is a great sense of purpose and meaning to your relationship.
- Your sexuality with one another celebrates the unconditional love you have to one another and is unencumbered and free, an almost sacred act between the two of you.
- The two of you become more and more one, without losing your individual identities. You even experience growth as your own person while this closeness increases.
- When you look into the eyes of the other, you see yourself.
- The degree of intimacy, both physical and spiritual, and the friendship you develop is without parallel.
The concept of soul twins is something Dave and I believed very strongly about for nearly all our years together. We knew we had something special between us but were not able to put a name to it for our first 2 years. Dave and I shared every one of the items on the list above...every one. And that is not the rambling wish of a lonely woman whose husband has just died. It is what we believed to be true. It does give me comfort at his passing because I am convinced that I will be rejoined with him in one Light Being some time in eternity. This physical lifetime with him was just one of many that came before and it won't be the last.
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| KFC with Naomi, July 2008 |
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| Jamming at Mike's, 2009 |
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| Almost smiled, Christmas 2009 |
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| What were you thinking about? |
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| Meditating at Stone Mountain, August, 2009 |
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| Real Treehugger |
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| He was getting agro because I was taking his picture, Christmas 2009 |
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| Our last summer together, July 2009 |
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| Sweet shy Dave, didn't want his picture taken, as usual. |
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| He is really starting to show the stress of all that pain at this point, even though he never complained. |
It's been a while since I posted anything on this blog because frankly, I have been lost in some pretty dark days. That breathtaking pain is no longer my constant companion but I would almost rather have that than the feelings that replaced it. I guess the most prevalent thing I am feeling these days is just complete and utter loneliness. Not that there is no one around to talk to or to do things with. But even in the biggest of crowds, I feel like I am completely separate from others. I am different from them and it is a palpable thing, that separateness. It makes me feel surreal and disconnected in a strange, quiet way, like I am underwater. Maybe I am drowning.
Dave had two phrases that he sometimes used to remind me (and others occasionally) about keeping things in perspective. He used them judiciously and always in a context where they had some meaning, even though the might be considered cliches by some. I think a lot of cliches start out as pretty wise sayings, which is how they become cliches in the first place...everybody says them until they are overused and become trite. These two phrases never because trite coming from Dave.
"Keeping it real"
To Dave, that meant keeping things honest and in perspective. In all my life, I never met anyone who never told even a teeny white lie, even to protect some one's feelings. Except for Dave. If I put on something that made my butt look big(ger) he would say, "Damn, Honey, those jeans make your butt look big." But somehow when he said it, there was so much love and affection that came with it, it was okay for him to say it. I knew he meant it with absolutely no malice or derision, no judgement. It was simply his observation and I could do with the information whatever I chose to do with it. He was a firm believer in having choices.
Dave felt very strongly that people should not hide behind half-truths or anything else. He felt that everything should be right up front, just like it was with him. What you saw was always the "real" Dave. He had very little tolerance for those who chose to evade and mask the truth, especially when it was about themselves. He simply didn't understand why people wanted to pretend to be something they were not and he chose to not surround himself with people who fell into that category. He was someone who gave everything he had to a friendship and so he could count those he considered his friends on one hand because he expected them to return the respect. He was as loyal a friend as anyone could ever hope to have, although even his friends sometimes, I think, didn't totally understand him.
He didn't think much of women who wore make up and had their hair done or who spent a lot of money on clothes, etc. He said that was just a way of hiding their true selves and how could you trust someone like that. On the other hand, he was one of the most feministic men I have ever known, totally in touch with his own "feminine" side and the first to acknowledge that he even had one. He said it made him a better man, husband, lover, etc. because he tried very hard to understand things from a female's perspective. Although that may sound a little ambiguous, in the context of talking about Dave, it isn't.
"Keeping it real..." became almost a mantra for him and for me. It set the tone for much of our life together and it certainly affected everything we did, together or apart. What there was (is?) between the two of us was a real as it gets.
"It is what it is."
Those five simple words came to mean something more to Dave and I than they might mean to most people. When he originally was diagnosed with renal cancer, he simply said that there was no reason to get too upset about it because "it is what it is".
Many people who receive a cancer diagnosis start to look at it (the cancer) as a living, breathing enemy to be battled and, ever the pacifist, Dave had no intention of his life becoming a battlefield. He would do what he could to make his life the best he could for whatever time remained, but he told me early on that he would not seek any treatment that would affect his life in a negative way. I told him it was his body and his life and that I would not push him to do anything he didn't want to do. I could not be so selfish as to want something for him that he did not want for himself. He had always given me everything he had to give and I could not ask him for any more.
No one wants to die and Dave was no exception, but he did not fear his death. He was convinced that there was something wonderful to come after this life, and while he was not entirely sure what it might be, he believed in it and thought of it as the "next great adventure".
When I met Dave, he had been reading a book by Dan Millman titled "The Way of the Peaceful Warrior". While he understood that the book was part fiction and part a telling of the author's own journey, it resonated deeply within him and was the catalyst that set him on a path toward spiritual enlightenment and understanding. He spent the next 16 years of his life on that path.
When I was packing up to move after he died, I came across that book. And although I knew it would start the flood, I opened it. In those pages were highlighted passages and notes he had made in the margins and I remembered back to the first time he explained to me why he was reading the book and what it was about. It is now of my most treasured possessions because it speaks to me of the man he was and how he was always striving to become a better one.
"It is what it is." I can still hear him saying that. If we had focused on the cancer instead of living our lives together as we had always lived we would have missed out on so much love and happiness together. The last 5 years of Dave's life with me had more meaning than it would have had if we had focused only on his disease. During that 5 years, our feelings for each other were as intense as they had been the first year we were together (and trust me when I say, those years were intense). We spent all that time just on the business of loving and supporting each other. Those are the memories that will carry me until the end of my days and I will be forever grateful to have been married to a man who knew what I needed to survive without him and who was brave enough to give it to me.
"Keeping it real"
To Dave, that meant keeping things honest and in perspective. In all my life, I never met anyone who never told even a teeny white lie, even to protect some one's feelings. Except for Dave. If I put on something that made my butt look big(ger) he would say, "Damn, Honey, those jeans make your butt look big." But somehow when he said it, there was so much love and affection that came with it, it was okay for him to say it. I knew he meant it with absolutely no malice or derision, no judgement. It was simply his observation and I could do with the information whatever I chose to do with it. He was a firm believer in having choices.
Dave felt very strongly that people should not hide behind half-truths or anything else. He felt that everything should be right up front, just like it was with him. What you saw was always the "real" Dave. He had very little tolerance for those who chose to evade and mask the truth, especially when it was about themselves. He simply didn't understand why people wanted to pretend to be something they were not and he chose to not surround himself with people who fell into that category. He was someone who gave everything he had to a friendship and so he could count those he considered his friends on one hand because he expected them to return the respect. He was as loyal a friend as anyone could ever hope to have, although even his friends sometimes, I think, didn't totally understand him.
He didn't think much of women who wore make up and had their hair done or who spent a lot of money on clothes, etc. He said that was just a way of hiding their true selves and how could you trust someone like that. On the other hand, he was one of the most feministic men I have ever known, totally in touch with his own "feminine" side and the first to acknowledge that he even had one. He said it made him a better man, husband, lover, etc. because he tried very hard to understand things from a female's perspective. Although that may sound a little ambiguous, in the context of talking about Dave, it isn't.
"Keeping it real..." became almost a mantra for him and for me. It set the tone for much of our life together and it certainly affected everything we did, together or apart. What there was (is?) between the two of us was a real as it gets.
"It is what it is."
Those five simple words came to mean something more to Dave and I than they might mean to most people. When he originally was diagnosed with renal cancer, he simply said that there was no reason to get too upset about it because "it is what it is".
Many people who receive a cancer diagnosis start to look at it (the cancer) as a living, breathing enemy to be battled and, ever the pacifist, Dave had no intention of his life becoming a battlefield. He would do what he could to make his life the best he could for whatever time remained, but he told me early on that he would not seek any treatment that would affect his life in a negative way. I told him it was his body and his life and that I would not push him to do anything he didn't want to do. I could not be so selfish as to want something for him that he did not want for himself. He had always given me everything he had to give and I could not ask him for any more.
No one wants to die and Dave was no exception, but he did not fear his death. He was convinced that there was something wonderful to come after this life, and while he was not entirely sure what it might be, he believed in it and thought of it as the "next great adventure".
When I met Dave, he had been reading a book by Dan Millman titled "The Way of the Peaceful Warrior". While he understood that the book was part fiction and part a telling of the author's own journey, it resonated deeply within him and was the catalyst that set him on a path toward spiritual enlightenment and understanding. He spent the next 16 years of his life on that path.
When I was packing up to move after he died, I came across that book. And although I knew it would start the flood, I opened it. In those pages were highlighted passages and notes he had made in the margins and I remembered back to the first time he explained to me why he was reading the book and what it was about. It is now of my most treasured possessions because it speaks to me of the man he was and how he was always striving to become a better one.
"It is what it is." I can still hear him saying that. If we had focused on the cancer instead of living our lives together as we had always lived we would have missed out on so much love and happiness together. The last 5 years of Dave's life with me had more meaning than it would have had if we had focused only on his disease. During that 5 years, our feelings for each other were as intense as they had been the first year we were together (and trust me when I say, those years were intense). We spent all that time just on the business of loving and supporting each other. Those are the memories that will carry me until the end of my days and I will be forever grateful to have been married to a man who knew what I needed to survive without him and who was brave enough to give it to me.
Can you see it in his eyes?
What I needed
The isolation of "widowhood" (there is that word I hate again) is extreme. Even in the most crowded place, I feel like I am enclosed in a bell jar, yet all I want sometimes is to be surrounded by people, because being alone is almost too much to handle. Even though almost everybody suggested early on that I get involved with counseling or into a group of other's who had lost loved ones, I am not the kind of person who would benefit from a support group. Been there, done it, hated it, not going there ever again. So, I thought that one of the online grief support groups would be a good alternative for me. I could participate at my convenience, which sometimes is very late at night or very early in the morning and so that seemed to suit my needs.
I also thought that if one group was good, two would be better and then somehow, I ended up registered with four or five (could have been more than that. That first month or so is still a little fuzzy around the edges). My heart was so wounded that I was desperate to find other people who were experiencing grief on the level that I was, so that I could make some sense of these feelings, to find some solace with strangers, because I was unable to truly show those who loved me the depth of my grief. (That is still hard for me.) I would have many different perspectives, from many different sources to draw from, it could only be good, right? Wrong.
The main thing I wanted was for somebody to explain to me why my husband had to die and leave me so alone. I wanted to hear from people who had made sense of it all and who could provide me with the explanations and information that I needed so very badly. I wanted the world to know about the incredible life I had had and to share things about my husband with anyone and everyone who would listen. And I thought that if anyone would listen, it would be someone who had felt that same stab in the heart that I was feeling. I was wrong about that, too.
The people I met on most of these group sites were in way more trouble that me. In that foggy place I was living, I didn't remember that people don't just lose spouses, they lose parents, siblings, children. And they don't always lose them to disease and they don't always have time to say good-bye the way that Dave and I had been able to do. I met people online who had lost loved ones to suicide, to drunk drivers, to drug addiction and a couple who lost a family member to a murderer, who turned out to be a someone they knew well and trusted. There was even one young woman who had lost her precious toddler to an abusive boyfriend who took her child from her in revenge for her breaking up with him.
There was story after story filled with anguish, anger, thoughts of suicide, questioning God as the why these things had been allowed to happen. And then, there were The Pictures. Pictures that had been posted for the same reason that I wanted people to know my story...to keep the memory of that person alive somewhere, to acknowledge that they had lived, to show that they had once been in this world. Looking at the faces of those lost loved ones was like looking into the very core of each person who had reached out to others for comfort and understanding. Those people were searching in the same way that I was searching. Their sorrow and desperation threatened to break the part of my heart that wasn't already broken. It made me much too aware of how fragile we all are, living this human existence. Anyone's life can change in the blink of an eye, yet all too many people fail to realize that until it is too late. I had to turn away from these places and I retreated back into myself, to be alone.
Eventually, I did find a group of people who had lost spouses that were pretty grounded and seemed to be moving on toward better places in their lives. While many of them still had plenty of pain of their own, they were also able to reach out with a supportive hand or a ((((hug)))) for the rest of us, without the platitudes and banality I found on those other sites. Turns out that is just what I needed. Getting an unveiled glimpse into their feelings and emotions, to see how they were handling things and to see how they were coping was very helpful for me. These women, and a few men, handle their grief with grace, humor and strength, and are not afraid to reach out to a stranger to offer comfort or to receive comfort themselves. Their compassion and comradre are some of the tools I need to fix myself, although I think the repairs are going to take longer than I expected.
Eventually, I did find a group of people who had lost spouses that were pretty grounded and seemed to be moving on toward better places in their lives. While many of them still had plenty of pain of their own, they were also able to reach out with a supportive hand or a ((((hug)))) for the rest of us, without the platitudes and banality I found on those other sites. Turns out that is just what I needed. Getting an unveiled glimpse into their feelings and emotions, to see how they were handling things and to see how they were coping was very helpful for me. These women, and a few men, handle their grief with grace, humor and strength, and are not afraid to reach out to a stranger to offer comfort or to receive comfort themselves. Their compassion and comradre are some of the tools I need to fix myself, although I think the repairs are going to take longer than I expected.
Much of what I have posted here lately has been the words of others because frankly, my own words seem to get stuck in my throat or don't make it all the way to my fingers. I am struggling with so many emotions right now that I can't seem to get everything I have to say out into the open and so my head feels full to bursting and it just shuts down when I try to express what I am feeling, thinking, doing. Today feels a little different, though, so here I am.
It has now been 4 months and 3 weeks since Dave died and there has been a decided shift in how I feel. Now I am finally settling into a stage of grief (although I think "stages of grief" is bullshit but I don't feel like coming up with my own new, patented phrase for how my psychic progression is moving along) where I feel like I am drowning most of the time. I have had panic attacks in the past and I know what that feels like and this isn't it. It is like claustrophobia almost, where the air seems thick, dense almost, and taking a really deep breath is next to impossible. In yoga, correct breathing, Pranayama, is essential. It releases nervous anxiety and negative emotions, it clears and calms the mind and helps achieve both physical and mental balance. I could use some of all of the right now but I can't seem to breathe in enough to exhale and release all of the things that have me bound at the moment. And so it kind of feels like I imagine drowning must feel.
Day to day life continues to be mundane and I am stagnant, doing nothing to move forward, it seems. I am falling into habits that I would rather not develop but I seem to be unable to stop that from happening. What is wrong with me? There is this gnawing, craving feeling inside of me that wants to get busy with the business of living, but without Dave here, I can find no motivation to actually do anything about those feelings. I spend a lot of time pondering how I can go about doing something, anything, but instead I just flounder and do nothing. It is making me crazy.
Guilt feelings take up a lot of my time, too. In my life with Dave, he did things constantly to allow me to grow and shine. He gave me every opportunity to move forward as a person, without trying to control or hold me back. I did the same for him and it was part of the reason that we had such an excellent relationship. We truly loved and supported each other in every endeavor, no matter how harebrained it may have seemed to the other and it worked for us. It worked very well. When he was here.
I vowed when Dave died that I would do everything in my power to honor his memory in so many ways but I just feel, well, powerless. Now I am finding that I am having a very hard time without his love and support, even though I am surrounded with people who only want the best for me and for me to be happy. But sometimes, that support is based on what is perceived to be the best for me, not the reality of what is best for me. Only I can know what that is but I have so many issues surrounding Dave's death that in dealing with those, I am losing myself a little everyday and what I need to make me happy again is not something I can see on the horizon for me because Dave is what made me happy and he is gone. My life with him was the only time in my adult life that I can say that I was truly happy. And I don't mean "la-la-la" happy. I mean to the core of my soul happy. Loved, protected, accepted, absolutely, completely happy. . Can you imagine what losing that feeling is like? It feels like some one reached into me and pulled out everything about me that was good and left this empty, hollow shell that is sad, weak and exhausted. Sleep has always been a refuge for me and that is true now. It is the only time I don't miss him. I think I must dream of him, even though I don't remember the dreams, because the first thing I am aware of when I wake up is that feeling of melancholy that is my primary mood these days.
Jeez, Louise...I have got to snap out of this before it starts to become my dogma.
It has now been 4 months and 3 weeks since Dave died and there has been a decided shift in how I feel. Now I am finally settling into a stage of grief (although I think "stages of grief" is bullshit but I don't feel like coming up with my own new, patented phrase for how my psychic progression is moving along) where I feel like I am drowning most of the time. I have had panic attacks in the past and I know what that feels like and this isn't it. It is like claustrophobia almost, where the air seems thick, dense almost, and taking a really deep breath is next to impossible. In yoga, correct breathing, Pranayama, is essential. It releases nervous anxiety and negative emotions, it clears and calms the mind and helps achieve both physical and mental balance. I could use some of all of the right now but I can't seem to breathe in enough to exhale and release all of the things that have me bound at the moment. And so it kind of feels like I imagine drowning must feel.
Day to day life continues to be mundane and I am stagnant, doing nothing to move forward, it seems. I am falling into habits that I would rather not develop but I seem to be unable to stop that from happening. What is wrong with me? There is this gnawing, craving feeling inside of me that wants to get busy with the business of living, but without Dave here, I can find no motivation to actually do anything about those feelings. I spend a lot of time pondering how I can go about doing something, anything, but instead I just flounder and do nothing. It is making me crazy.
Guilt feelings take up a lot of my time, too. In my life with Dave, he did things constantly to allow me to grow and shine. He gave me every opportunity to move forward as a person, without trying to control or hold me back. I did the same for him and it was part of the reason that we had such an excellent relationship. We truly loved and supported each other in every endeavor, no matter how harebrained it may have seemed to the other and it worked for us. It worked very well. When he was here.
I vowed when Dave died that I would do everything in my power to honor his memory in so many ways but I just feel, well, powerless. Now I am finding that I am having a very hard time without his love and support, even though I am surrounded with people who only want the best for me and for me to be happy. But sometimes, that support is based on what is perceived to be the best for me, not the reality of what is best for me. Only I can know what that is but I have so many issues surrounding Dave's death that in dealing with those, I am losing myself a little everyday and what I need to make me happy again is not something I can see on the horizon for me because Dave is what made me happy and he is gone. My life with him was the only time in my adult life that I can say that I was truly happy. And I don't mean "la-la-la" happy. I mean to the core of my soul happy. Loved, protected, accepted, absolutely, completely happy. . Can you imagine what losing that feeling is like? It feels like some one reached into me and pulled out everything about me that was good and left this empty, hollow shell that is sad, weak and exhausted. Sleep has always been a refuge for me and that is true now. It is the only time I don't miss him. I think I must dream of him, even though I don't remember the dreams, because the first thing I am aware of when I wake up is that feeling of melancholy that is my primary mood these days.
Jeez, Louise...I have got to snap out of this before it starts to become my dogma.
At last you have departed and gone to the Unseen.
What marvelous route did you take from this world?
What marvelous route did you take from this world?
Beating your wings and feathers,
you broke free from this cage.
Rising up to the sky
you attained the world of the soul.
You were a prized falcon trapped by an Old Woman.
Then you heard the drummer's call
and flew beyond space and time.
you broke free from this cage.
Rising up to the sky
you attained the world of the soul.
You were a prized falcon trapped by an Old Woman.
Then you heard the drummer's call
and flew beyond space and time.
As a lovesick nightingale, you flew among the owls.
Then came the scent of the rosegarden
and you flew off to meet the Rose.
Then came the scent of the rosegarden
and you flew off to meet the Rose.
The wine of this fleeting world
caused your head to ache.
Finally you joined the tavern of Eternity.
Like an arrow, you sped from the bow
and went straight for the bull's eye of bliss.
caused your head to ache.
Finally you joined the tavern of Eternity.
Like an arrow, you sped from the bow
and went straight for the bull's eye of bliss.
This phantom world gave you false signs
But you turned from the illusion
and journeyed to the land of truth.
But you turned from the illusion
and journeyed to the land of truth.
You are now the Sun -
what need have you for a crown?
You have vanished from this world -
what need have you to tie your robe?
what need have you for a crown?
You have vanished from this world -
what need have you to tie your robe?
I've heard that you can barely see your soul.
But why look at all? -
yours is now the Soul of Souls!
But why look at all? -
yours is now the Soul of Souls!
O heart, what a wonderful bird you are.
Seeking divine heights,
Flapping your wings,
you smashed the pointed spears of your enemy.
Seeking divine heights,
Flapping your wings,
you smashed the pointed spears of your enemy.
The flowers flee from Autumn, but not you -
You are the fearless rose
that grows amidst the freezing wind.
You are the fearless rose
that grows amidst the freezing wind.
Pouring down like the rain of heaven
you fell upon the rooftop of this world.
Then you ran in every direction
and escaped through the drain spout . . .
you fell upon the rooftop of this world.
Then you ran in every direction
and escaped through the drain spout . . .
Now the words are over
and the pain they bring is gone.
Now you have gone to rest
in the arms of the Beloved.
and the pain they bring is gone.
Now you have gone to rest
in the arms of the Beloved.
-- Rumi
Time does not bring relief
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear To go - so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face I say,
'There is no memory of him here!'
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
Edna St. Vincent Milay
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear To go - so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face I say,
'There is no memory of him here!'
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
Edna St. Vincent Milay
Walking Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death
A cancer diagnosis changes your life in the blink of an eye and it changes it forever. Panic, confusion, depression, sadness, the emotional turmoil it brings is seemingly endless. It doesn't just change your life, it takes over and becomes your life. Everything that you do suddenly revolves around "The Cancer". Doctor's offices and hospitals become your home away from home. Tests, scans, radiation treatments, infusions that take a whole day, traveling to appointments, start to take all of your time and so having a day off to kick back and relax becomes something that you used to do. Side effects from treatment are often much worse than the effects of the cancer, so those days when you go in for treatment turn into days and weeks of recovering from the very thing that is supposed to make you feel better. Odds can be pretty low that these treatments will even work and so you start to feel like a lab rat, waiting on the next experiment to take place.
Good news is met with a brief moment of joy, followed by cautious optimism because you are terrified to get your hopes up too much. Bad news is like being diagnosed all over again. Eventually, you just get to the point where it is all too much and you have to decide when enough is enough and to give your best shot at living in the time you have remaining. Watching someone you love go through this process is nearly as debilitating as the cancer because you are powerless to help. So, you struggle and grasp at every available thing you can think of to do. That is because you want to feel like you are doing something positive but it is nearly impossible to hold back those feelings of helplessness and terror that you feel almost constantly. Believe me, I know about these things.
Early one morning, back in 2005, Dave shook me to wakefulness about 4 a.m. in excruciating pain. His back was killing him and he had tried to urinate but was unable to and he was really starting to become agitated. I pulled on some clothes and helped him dress and called his mother to drive us to the emergency room. Ordinarily, we would have gone alone but something just made me call her to come with us that morning.
By the time we got him to the emergency room, less than 20 minutes away, he was writhing in pain and being very vocal about how long everything was taking. Normally a very calm and quiet guy, he was making it clear that he didn't appreciate having to fill out paperwork and answer questions when he was in so much distress. Eventually we got Dave into a cubicle for examination and the ER doctor agreed that his symptoms indicated a probable kidney stone obstructing his passing urine. There had been blood in the tiny bit of urine Dave had been able to pass but that didn't seem to send up any extra red flags for anyone at the ER. But none of them had seen it.
Dave was sent up for an x-ray and about 30 minutes later a technician came down and said that something unusual had shown up on the x-ray and that he wanted a urologist to take a look. Luckily, I was informed, one of their best doctors was in the hospital assisting a surgery and he had agreed to take a look at Dave's films. The possibility of cancer was not mentioned nor did it cross my mind for even a split second.
Waiting in that cool emergency room, it seemed like it was taking forever but after another 30 or so minutes passed, the same technician came back down and said that the urologist had taken a look and had ordered a CTscan. He went on to say that as soon as they had the results from that scan, someone would be down to talk to us about what was wrong with Dave. And so we waited some more.
I can still remember exactly where I was standing when the urologist came striding into the ER waiting area. Very purposeful, efficient and all business. He was a head taller than me, almost as tall as Dave. He was wearing scrubs and a white lab coat over the top of them and he still had paper booties over his shoes because he had come from the OR directly to look at Dave's X-ray and the CT scan. Dave's mother was standing along side of me and I remember a nurse walking behind the doctor. While he was starting to speak to us, I remember that I was still very cold. I remember all those details so vividly I can close my eyes and play it like a movie in my head.
The thing I remember most is the doctor introducing himself and then, very bluntly stated the following. Dave had a 7cm tumor in his right kidney, that there was no chance it was anything other than renal cell carcinoma, that the kidney needed to come out as soon as they could schedule the surgery and that he was admitting Dave to the hospital immediately. There was a brief moment of disbelief and a little confusion until I realized that he had said the word "carcinoma". He didn't say cancer, he said the other "c-word" and it threw me for a moment. Then the world came back into focus and I realized that my husband had just been diagnosed with cancer. And that was the moment our life changed forever.
To be continued....
The thing I remember most is the doctor introducing himself and then, very bluntly stated the following. Dave had a 7cm tumor in his right kidney, that there was no chance it was anything other than renal cell carcinoma, that the kidney needed to come out as soon as they could schedule the surgery and that he was admitting Dave to the hospital immediately. There was a brief moment of disbelief and a little confusion until I realized that he had said the word "carcinoma". He didn't say cancer, he said the other "c-word" and it threw me for a moment. Then the world came back into focus and I realized that my husband had just been diagnosed with cancer. And that was the moment our life changed forever.
To be continued....
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