It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses. ~Colette
“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.”
"Life is short, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile. Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."~ Mark Twain
Monday is Valentine's Day. It is going to be a very, very hard day for me. But not for the reason you might imagine. Even though I am enamored of a day dedicated to love, it has never been that big of a deal for me. Well, not since I was a little kid and then it was just a big stresser. I was always scared to death that I would be the kid in my class that didn't get any Valentines from any of the other kids. It never happened but I always worried that it would and that kind of took the fun out of it.
Dave and I never celebrated it because in his words "every day we are together is about love". That was so true. When we were together, we never needed one day of the year of mark our love. It was constant, all consuming, amazing and profound. If I were to miss anything on Valentine's Day, I would miss all of that, but since Dave died, I miss it every day and I don't need one particular day of the year to remind me. All the Valentine holiday ads in the media are about to give me a nervous tic.
No, for me this year's Valentine's Day is bringing up a whole set of other memories and I don't think it will ever be the same for me again. Last year's Valentine's Day was different. I think Dave knew it was going to be his last and he wanted to do something special, something to really celebrate so we made plans to spend the whole day doing some fun stuff. We had been spending a lot of time at doctor's appointments, getting tests, scans, infusions, etc. and Dave just wanted to have a normal day...the kind we used to have all the time. And he made a point to tell me he wanted to take me somewhere and buy me something special...a piece of jewelry maybe. He said he wanted me to have something I could keep and that was when I knew what he was thinking. I was touched in a way I can't put into words and won't even try.
I had wanted Dave to have something special for Valentine's Day, too, so I had written him a story. It was written as a fairy tale (it is published here under the title "A Fairy Tale") and it was a story about the two of us. I wrote about what my life was like before I met him and how he had changed my life forever. I wanted him to know how much he meant to me and how much I loved him. The story made me cry when I wrote it. It made him cry when he read it and afterward, we just sat and held onto each other for the longest time.
Valentine's Day was on Sunday last year and that morning Dave was very agitated and visibly in a lot more pain that usual. He said that his pain meds were not working at all and he felt like his legs were on fire. He also said he had this weird rash all over his back and belly and that it had broken out over night. When I looked at it I couldn't believe my eyes. I have never seen anything like it. I will spare the details but let me just say it scared me. He was is so much pain that I called the doctor and they told me to double up on one of his pain meds, which I did and it didn't to much good. By the time we got enough morphine and dilaudid into him to dull the pain, he was nearly incoherent. He finally went to sleep and slept for a couple of hours. We did that for the rest of the day and all night.
Because he was Stage IV at that time, his doctors were handing him pain meds like they were M&M's. He was getting the morphine every 4 hours and the dilaudid every hour or so. I have never seen anybody in that kind of pain and it scared me to death. One of his doctors said I should take him to the emergency room but Dave wouldn't go. He had an appointment the next morning anyway and he thought he could wait it out. Turns out the rash was shingles....his oncologist said it was the most extreme case he had ever seen. If you know how painful shingles are, on top of the pain of having bone cancer, you can get a small idea of what this pain must have been like for Dave. And all I would do was stand helplessly by and hand him drugs to try to dull the pain. I have never felt so small or powerless and it broke my heart into a million pieces.
That is how we spent our last Valentine's Day together and much as I wish it otherwise, that is the Valentine's Day I will celebrate this year. Happy frickin' Valentine's Day to me.
10 Months Gone
I asked Dave once, very early in our relationship, why he loved me. At this stage we were just starting out and so it was not a frivolous question. I was genuinely curious because we were such an unlikely pair. So, why me? I was almost a foot shorter than him, nothing to write home about in the looks department. Oh, I have a wicked sense of humor and am very smart but to look at us as a couple must have been an enigma for most people. Dave was movie star handsome, with the body of an athlete, which of course he was. Dazzling blue eyes, the softest curly hair, strong chin, six pack abs and legs like a gazelle. He moved with the catlike grace of someone who was completely sure of every step he took.
He was respectful and polite, like most well brought up Southern boys. And he was extremely intelligent and you could see that in his eyes....this insatiable curiosity he had about everything (that was something huge we had in common, actually). He was 7 years younger than me, but he looked even younger than he was. He was as wild as a mustang and as gentle as a lamb, the kind of guy they write novels about. Women had no compunction about coming on to him, even in my presence, I was such a non-threatening companion. So sometimes it made me feel a little insecure about why he had chosen me to be with.
He was a little taken aback by me asking him why he loved me and at first he hesitated to answer me, other than to say it only mattered that he did love me and did the reasons really matter. He was actually a little bit offended because he thought I was doubting him. I explained to him that I was doubting me. I had been so hurt and confused when my marriage broke up I just wanted to make sure I understood where we stood on the whole "love you forever" thing, because I had been promised that before and we saw how that turned out. He had suffered the same fate in his previous marriage and immediately understood my need to have this question answered. After a few minutes of deep thought, this is what he said to me.
I will only tell you this once because it the truth and you know I don't lie. Once you know this, you know it forever and you don't ever have to ask me again. Okay? Okay.
You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and you always will be. Because I see you with my heart. From the moment I had that first conversation with you, I knew you were part of my destiny. Not because of what you are on the outside but because of what you are on the inside. I love you because of your heart...it is the biggest one I have ever seen. When I look at you, that is what I see...I see how much you care, how kind you are and how strong you can be. You shine with such an inner light. It is like you glow...I see it every time I look at you. You are the beacon that lights my path now. That is what makes you so special to me. Don't ever forget that. I love you and that is all that matters to either of us.
I never had to ask him again.
Fifteen years later, when he was so sick and we knew that he was going to have the fight of his life against the cancer, we spent a lot of days just talking about our life together. We were having one of those days when he said this to me.
Remember what I told you all those years ago? About why I loved you. I think sometimes that you think you have been the lucky one in our life but that is not true. I have been the lucky one, to have someone like you in my life. Your strength has always come from yourheart , from how much love you are capable of giving...and not just to me and your family. It is who you are, it your life force. Your love is unconditional and you give it freely with no strings attached. Not many people can say that.
I have never known a stronger woman than you but you have to be strong for both of us now. I am sorry about that but there isn't much I can do about it. It is just how it is. But know this...You are the one, you are the only and I will love you for all eternity.
On March 24th, 2010 the light that guided me was extinguished by kidney cancer. Dave was right about my being strong but he was a bit wrong about assuming that my gift of love didn't come without a price. I am paying for it now with little pieces of my soul and sometimes I feel like that light in me is going out, too. What I wrote earlier is almost verbatim from that original conversation. I wrote down much of the words Dave said to me that day and kept them with me all these years. I kept them in my jewelry case but never really looked at them, until Dave got sick again. They are now etched in my memory and I don't really have trouble remembering the words because I read them so often in the few months before he died, to give me the strength I needed to hold him up through that hell we went through. I think I did a pretty good job, I tried to, anyway.
Tonight 2010 is ending ...
Tonight 2010 is ending and I have mixed feelings about that.
Because this was the worst year of my life so far I don't really know what to say about it. I have tried very hard to be upbeat and to get on as best I can after suffering the devastating loss of the man who meant everything to me. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids, my grandkids, my parents, my brother, my family more that might be rational to some people. But Dave was part of me in a way that nobody else could ever be. He was my best friend, husband, lover, confidant, hero and quite simply the best person I have ever known.
Dave was movie star handsome, smart as a whip, strong and kind. He was always looking for the truth in things and that made him unfailingly honest. I felt safe with him around because he feared nothing, not even death, and I knew he could and would take care of me if it came down to that. He colored my world in vibrant shades of every hue and showed me the beauty of life. I never doubted his love for a second and how many of us can say that? When he died, my heart crumbled into dust and now every day is a struggle just to survive with this relentless pain that is my constant companion now that he is gone.
Dave was movie star handsome, smart as a whip, strong and kind. He was always looking for the truth in things and that made him unfailingly honest. I felt safe with him around because he feared nothing, not even death, and I knew he could and would take care of me if it came down to that. He colored my world in vibrant shades of every hue and showed me the beauty of life. I never doubted his love for a second and how many of us can say that? When he died, my heart crumbled into dust and now every day is a struggle just to survive with this relentless pain that is my constant companion now that he is gone.
But I try very hard to remember only the good things about our life together and what a grand life it was! I have so many memories of all the things we saw and did together over the years. All those things that will never be done or seen in the same way ever again. Our moments in time. My memories.
I could not have made it through these last 6 months without the support of old friends and my family. And from my new friends, the ones I met through our shared tragedies. I have met people whose losses were as devastating to them as mine was to me. We are like soldiers on the battlefield, trying to take care of and keep each other safe from more harm. We have all walked through the valley of the shadow of death and we came out the other side...alone but alive. Even though to many of us it feels like life is not worth living without our loved ones, we all remember that life is a gift. Better than most people, we know not to squander it, not to waste a precious moment on petty things that don't matter in the end...because we have all witnessed the end and we know...we know.
So to my friends here, I wish you only happiness and prosperity in 2011. May healing, happiness and joy find you in the future. You have my thanks for holding me up when I thought I could not go another step. My love to you all. Blessed New Year to you all.
Do not pursue the past
Do not lose yourself in the future
The past no longer is
The future has not yet come
Looking deeply at life as it is in the very here and now...
We must be diligent today
To wait until tomorrow is too late
~ Blessings of the Buddha
I have not been able to post anything since Dave's birthday. It is just too hard right now and I just don't have words for how I am feeling. This whole dead husband thing really sucks. I want my Dave back and I want him now. I expected forever and since it is gone, I am lost. L....O....S....T.
Maybe this is my forever. Shit.
Maybe this is my forever. Shit.
Today is Dave's birthday
Fifty one years ago today, a most incredible being came into this world and
on March 24th, 2010, he left this life for the next.
He lived his life without compromise. He searched for the truth in everything and when he believed in something, it was with total commitment. He was passionate about the things he cared for, whether it was Mother Earth or those he loved. He put his words into action to try to make the world a better place. He believed that death was just part of the circle of life and something that we all fear too much. He accepted that it was just another step on his spiritual path and he made me brave with his strong belief in something greater than we are.
I was given a great gift when he came into my life and I am more grateful for it than I can express. And while I miss him every moment of every day, I am so thankful to have shared a portion of his life. He changed me forever and I am all the better for it.
And so, Dave, I celebrate your birth today and give thanks to the Universe for sending you to me. Namaste to my peaceful warrior. Love and Light, together forever.
"Sometimes a song says it all..."
Looking out on the morning rain
I used to feel uninspired
And when I knew I had to face another day
Lord, it made me feel so tired
Before the day I met you, life was so unkind
But your love was the key to peace of mind
Cause you make me feel, you make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman
When my soul was in the lost-and-found
You came along to claim it
I didn't know just what was wrong with me
Till your kiss helped me name it
Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for
And if I make you happy I don't need to do more
Cause you make me feel, you make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman
Oh, baby, what you've done to me
You make me feel so good inside
And I just want to be close to you
You make me feel so alive
Cause you make me feel, you make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman
I used to feel uninspired
And when I knew I had to face another day
Lord, it made me feel so tired
Before the day I met you, life was so unkind
But your love was the key to peace of mind
Cause you make me feel, you make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman
When my soul was in the lost-and-found
You came along to claim it
I didn't know just what was wrong with me
Till your kiss helped me name it
Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for
And if I make you happy I don't need to do more
Cause you make me feel, you make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman
Oh, baby, what you've done to me
You make me feel so good inside
And I just want to be close to you
You make me feel so alive
Cause you make me feel, you make me feel,
You make me feel like a natural woman
I wish...
I wish that I was ten again,
when I only knew love and happiness existed in the world,
when I didn't know about grief or sorrow or loss.
I wish that I was twenty again,
when the world was a wide open canvas ready to reveal my story,
when I had yet to take more than a few brush strokes against it,
when I could paint my future any color I chose.
I wish that I was thirty again,
when my children were still small enough to think that I was the Queen of their world,
holding the keys to their kingdom in the palm of my hand,
when I still knew where they slept at night,
when I could keep watch over them.
I wish that I was forty again,
when I started on a journey to rediscovering myself,
finding that the road was filled with twists and turns I never expected,
where something dazzling and wonderful was waiting for me
around one of those bends in the road and
how it changed my life forever.
I wish that I was fifty again,
when cancer was just a disease you gave money to help find a cure for,
when it hadn't taken over our life,
when it hadn't made us feel small and helpless,
when I only knew love and happiness existed in my world,
where pain and hopelessness were only words,
when I didn't so well know grief or sorrow or loss.
Simple gifts say so much
Dave and I were never much for gift giving. After having lived separate lives for so many years, each of us being married to others before we ever met, we were both just so happy to have finally found each other that each day we were together seemed like a gift.
But sometimes you just need to give something that says more than your words can express and so you want to give it as a token, something to be remembered, to signify an event, a moment or a simply a feeling. Dave often brought me things that to someone else might seem like the most trivial items imaginable. A smooth, white stone from the field, a worn down but still beautiful seashell from a beach trip I didn't get to go on, the first single wildflower early in spring, and once that piece of tree bark in the shape of something barely recognizable. Those are the things that touched my heart because I knew that at each of those moments, when he had first seen those things, he thought of me. That meant more than any fancy jewelry or expensive present ever could have.
Likewise, my gifts to him were usually simple and filled with special meaning. He kept them in what he called his "mojo bag", which was a small, buttersoft deerskin pouch that had been one of those simple gifts I had given him. He put it in the right corner of the top drawer of his bureau, easily accessible, but tucked away where it couldn't be lost. In other words, where it would be safe.
After he died, it took me a while to be able to look inside of that bag, although I held it in my hand often and felt the objects inside, remembering when I had given him each one. The perfect tiny arrowhead I had spied sticking out of a dirt clod after he had plowed up a new garden plot. A tiny egg of malachite, the guardian stone of travelers. A dented, pitted marble I had found in an old cupboard in his grandparent's (long deceased) house, one that he swore was his when he was a kid. The bag is filled with things like those.
And, of course, there is The Agate.
We lived on the Oregon coast for a while and we spent a lot of time on the beach and along the river banks. One of the favorite local activities was looking for agates, beautiful smooth, translucent stones that come in all colors. I was probably the most frustrated agate hunter on the coast because after doggedly looking for nearly two years, I had continued to come up empty handed. Even our friends' six year old ran rings around me when it came to finding these elusive beauties, so I finally gave up trying to find even one.
One chilly fall morning, Dave and I were walking along a stretch of beach, near the mouth of the river we lived beside. We were on the beach, walking toward the jetty, where the river rushed into the ocean. We loved walking there because the clash of the water from the river and the ocean waves made a spectacular display and we could watch it while we walked that stretch of beach.
That morning, I had sand in my shoes and had taken them off to walk. The sand was warm and it felt good to have my toes in the sand. I remember standing there on that misty beach, nestled up close to Dave and him with his arms encircling me, hugging me close, just holding on to each other. I remember how he smelled, his warmth, how he felt, how I felt. I remember that his sweater scratched my cheek but I didn't want to break the spell of that moment, so I didn't move. I could hear his strong, steady heartbeat and I remember thinking that I wished that perfect moment could last forever. I don't think I was ever happier than the days we spent on that beach.
While we stood there, I dug my toes into the sand and hit something hard. I reached down and dug through the sand and pulled out the most perfect, nearly round agate I had ever seen. It was bigger than many of the agates I had seen other people find and I took it in my hand and washed the sand off in a little rivulet of water. When I opened my hand and we looked closer, there in the exact center of the agate was a hole, all the way through the stone. Inside that tiny chasm was another miniscule round agate, cached inside the bigger stone, worn into shape over how many years, within the larger stone. Dave and I looked at it in amazement.
When we got back home that morning, I immediately made the agate into a necklace for Dave. That stone carried so much meaning because I had found it in that perfect moment. For us it symbolized patience and protection, the heart within and the endurance of love. Dave said it was the best gift he had ever been given and he wore it for many years. Eventually, it made its way into the mojo bag, with his other treasures.
I wore The Agate to Dave's memorial service on a simple strand of twine, close to my heart, just like he wore it for so long.
But sometimes you just need to give something that says more than your words can express and so you want to give it as a token, something to be remembered, to signify an event, a moment or a simply a feeling. Dave often brought me things that to someone else might seem like the most trivial items imaginable. A smooth, white stone from the field, a worn down but still beautiful seashell from a beach trip I didn't get to go on, the first single wildflower early in spring, and once that piece of tree bark in the shape of something barely recognizable. Those are the things that touched my heart because I knew that at each of those moments, when he had first seen those things, he thought of me. That meant more than any fancy jewelry or expensive present ever could have.
Likewise, my gifts to him were usually simple and filled with special meaning. He kept them in what he called his "mojo bag", which was a small, buttersoft deerskin pouch that had been one of those simple gifts I had given him. He put it in the right corner of the top drawer of his bureau, easily accessible, but tucked away where it couldn't be lost. In other words, where it would be safe.
After he died, it took me a while to be able to look inside of that bag, although I held it in my hand often and felt the objects inside, remembering when I had given him each one. The perfect tiny arrowhead I had spied sticking out of a dirt clod after he had plowed up a new garden plot. A tiny egg of malachite, the guardian stone of travelers. A dented, pitted marble I had found in an old cupboard in his grandparent's (long deceased) house, one that he swore was his when he was a kid. The bag is filled with things like those.
And, of course, there is The Agate.
We lived on the Oregon coast for a while and we spent a lot of time on the beach and along the river banks. One of the favorite local activities was looking for agates, beautiful smooth, translucent stones that come in all colors. I was probably the most frustrated agate hunter on the coast because after doggedly looking for nearly two years, I had continued to come up empty handed. Even our friends' six year old ran rings around me when it came to finding these elusive beauties, so I finally gave up trying to find even one.
One chilly fall morning, Dave and I were walking along a stretch of beach, near the mouth of the river we lived beside. We were on the beach, walking toward the jetty, where the river rushed into the ocean. We loved walking there because the clash of the water from the river and the ocean waves made a spectacular display and we could watch it while we walked that stretch of beach.
That morning, I had sand in my shoes and had taken them off to walk. The sand was warm and it felt good to have my toes in the sand. I remember standing there on that misty beach, nestled up close to Dave and him with his arms encircling me, hugging me close, just holding on to each other. I remember how he smelled, his warmth, how he felt, how I felt. I remember that his sweater scratched my cheek but I didn't want to break the spell of that moment, so I didn't move. I could hear his strong, steady heartbeat and I remember thinking that I wished that perfect moment could last forever. I don't think I was ever happier than the days we spent on that beach.
While we stood there, I dug my toes into the sand and hit something hard. I reached down and dug through the sand and pulled out the most perfect, nearly round agate I had ever seen. It was bigger than many of the agates I had seen other people find and I took it in my hand and washed the sand off in a little rivulet of water. When I opened my hand and we looked closer, there in the exact center of the agate was a hole, all the way through the stone. Inside that tiny chasm was another miniscule round agate, cached inside the bigger stone, worn into shape over how many years, within the larger stone. Dave and I looked at it in amazement.
When we got back home that morning, I immediately made the agate into a necklace for Dave. That stone carried so much meaning because I had found it in that perfect moment. For us it symbolized patience and protection, the heart within and the endurance of love. Dave said it was the best gift he had ever been given and he wore it for many years. Eventually, it made its way into the mojo bag, with his other treasures.
I wore The Agate to Dave's memorial service on a simple strand of twine, close to my heart, just like he wore it for so long.
If you look very closely, you can see that Dave is wearing "The Agate" around his neck.
You can click on the pic to see it full size, if you like.
You can click on the pic to see it full size, if you like.
Death is nothing at all...
Death is nothing at all...
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort,
without the ghost of a shadow on it.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort,
without the ghost of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was;
there is absolutely unbroken continuity....
It is the same as it ever was;
there is absolutely unbroken continuity....
Why should I be out of your mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval,
Somewhere very near, just around the corner.All is well.
I am waiting for you for an interval,
Somewhere very near, just around the corner.All is well.
All is well.
"Thanksgiving 2010"
The day is almost over and although I have had a couple of "oh oh" moments, over all it was a good day. Still feeling the love of my Honeyman. He isn't here physically but his spirit has been hovering around me all day. I have truly felt it a couple of times.
Last year, he was too sick to eat Thanksgiving dinner and we only spent a couple of hours at my parents house because he was so uncomfortable that I had to take him home (at that point even riding in the car was very hard on him because of the tumors in his hip sockets). He kept apologizing to me for spoiling my day but I kept telling him that it was okay, everybody knew he was hurting and he hadn't spoiled anybody's anything.
Neither one of us said anything but I think we both thought "this might be our last Thanksgiving" but those kind of thoughts were never voiced because we promised that we wouldn't do that to each other. We got home and after he rested a little bit, he played his guitar for about an hour and we just hung out til bedtime. He was into watching old Bat Masterson reruns at that point and I think we may have watched 2 or 3 of those. It was a good day for us overall.
Last year, he was too sick to eat Thanksgiving dinner and we only spent a couple of hours at my parents house because he was so uncomfortable that I had to take him home (at that point even riding in the car was very hard on him because of the tumors in his hip sockets). He kept apologizing to me for spoiling my day but I kept telling him that it was okay, everybody knew he was hurting and he hadn't spoiled anybody's anything.
Neither one of us said anything but I think we both thought "this might be our last Thanksgiving" but those kind of thoughts were never voiced because we promised that we wouldn't do that to each other. We got home and after he rested a little bit, he played his guitar for about an hour and we just hung out til bedtime. He was into watching old Bat Masterson reruns at that point and I think we may have watched 2 or 3 of those. It was a good day for us overall.
I miss my old life....
There are so many things about my old life I miss. Taken individually they seem like such little insignificant things but when you take the sum of the whole another story unfolds.
I miss things like looking out our kitchen window and seeing the woods behind the house and the 30 wild turkeys feeding on the acorns all over the ground there. I miss my husband. I miss hearing the back door open and knowing Dave was coming in from the field. I miss him kissing me on the back of the neck and then asking me "What's for lunch?". I miss washing his clothes and the smell of them after they dried on the line. I miss the quietness and the clean air at the farm and I miss the green, growing fields. I miss getting up in the morning, knowing I was going to get to spend another day with my best friend. I miss running out to the field with Dave, to plant seeds in the rain, when it came earlier than the forecast predicted, and getting soaked in the process, coming in shivering and laughing together about how we got them in the ground at the perfect time. I miss being read to in bed. I miss picking beans and cukes and tomatoes and eggplant. I miss seeing him pull into the driveway after he had been away...whether it was for an hour or a day, it always thrilled me when he returned. I miss getting up at 4am to get ready for the farmer's market and I miss how much fun Dave and I always had when we got there. I miss him hogging the bathroom and stealing the covers off me in the middle of the night. I miss cooking for someone who was endlessly enthusiastic about whatever my latest kitchen experiment might be. I miss listening to him playing his guitar at night after all the work was done. I miss the smell of the first fall fire in the wood stove and listening to it crackle and pop. I miss sitting on the sofa with only the firelight flickering, staring at the fire, cuddling with Dave and just being together. I miss the calluses on his palms, hard earned from work, and the ones on his fingertips from long hours of playing his guitars. I miss him cutting his own hair over the bathroom sink and never quite getting all of it cleaned up. I miss having those beautiful blue eyes peering at me, taking time to look up from whatever book he was reading. Even then there was the look of love in them. I miss the taste of his tears mingling with mine, as I held him close and told him everything was going to be okay, when we both knew it wasn't. I miss him being so uninterested in money that he didn't even know what bank we had our account with unless he looked at the checkbook. I miss watching him do amazing things on a daily basis. I miss our walks in the woods. I miss the muscles in his broad shoulders and that teeny mole on the back of his ear. I miss counting the freckles on his back and teasing him about connecting the dots to see what kind of a picture it might make. I miss having someone in my life that no matter what I did, still thought I was wonderful. I miss the goats and the pigs and the chickens. I miss the smell of 3 tons of horse manure wafting into our open window on a warm spring night and listening to the crickets sing. I miss having 9 months of backbreaking farm labor to get crops in and having the next 3 months off to just enjoy my life with my husband. I miss kisses. I miss the friends we made over the years that have disappeared from my life after Dave died. I miss my family members who live so very far away. I miss the confidence I had when I was with him because he made me stronger and better. I miss the security of knowing that I had a roof over my head and having somebody that made it home. I miss having a home. I miss having someone I could tell anything to and who always gave me the best advice on solving problems. I miss being married to a man who was movie star handsome, so much so that I often wondered why he had chosen me, feeling very lucky that he did. I miss watching him walk, like a cat, all grace and fluid motion...it could make my heart skip a beat and still does when I think about it. I miss how he made me feel. I miss the conversations we used to have about anything and everything. I miss the smell of him because it was pure, like the elements...earth, water, fire and air...it was like he was made from them. I miss the front porch and the rocking chairs. I miss cooking for someone who appreciated every meal I ever made for him. I miss being brave and strong. I miss being loved more than I ever thought it was possible to be loved and being able to love somebody back with that same intensity.
Yeah, I miss my old life....
Yeah, I miss my old life....
This whole grief thing just ebbs and flows....sometimes like a little feeder creek and sometimes like a raging river. You can dam up the creeks with a couple of well placed stones but it can take a feat of engineering to stop the river. Sometimes it is just better to go with the flow, no matter which one you are being swept away by. If you can keep from drowning, it is all good.
Fleeting pleasures
Profound happiness, unlike fleeting pleasures,
is spiritual by nature. It depends on the happiness of others, and it is
based on love and tenderness.~~~~Dalai Lama
is spiritual by nature. It depends on the happiness of others, and it is
based on love and tenderness.~~~~Dalai Lama
Evicted from my home the week after Dave died...
It has been just over one month since Dave died and this has been the worst week I have had so far. I feel like every nerve in my body is on fire and I can't concentrate on much of anything. I have my mother in law to thank for this present state of mind. Things between us have never been great and Dave's passing has brought that to a head. Grieving is hard enough but to have to be packing up my life with him at this early stage of the process is almost more than I can bear. How could anyone be so heartless and cruel, especially to someone who is at the most vulnerable point of their life? Especially when you are supposed to be family.
Dave and I were together for 16 years and in that time I have kept my own counsel on the subject of my mother-in-law. I have kept silent as long as I can and I will simply no longer keep my feelings to myself, not after what she has done. I wasn't going to say the things I am about to but it is not fair for me to have to deal with this for the rest of my life. My way has never been to keep things to myself but that is exactly what I have done, especially for the last 10 years, out of respect for the fact she is Dave's mother. I just can't do it any longer, not without doing harm to my own psyche.
Five days after Dave died, his mother invited me over for lunch and as we were having dessert, she announced to me that I needed to vacate the house and the farm, which she owned but which had been our home for the last ten years. To say that I was shocked by this announcement would be understatement. I had not even completely processed that the love of my life was gone forever when she dropped this bombshell on me. Just like that, no warning, no nothing. Just blurted it out over a sandwich and some cookies.
First of all, for the entire time that Dave and I were together, she never really accepted the relationship. I don't know whether she secretly hoped that if I was out of the picture Dave and his ex-wife would get back together or what. (Of course, that would never have happened, even if I had disappeared off the face of the Earth. His ex sealed her fate with him way before I ever even met him.) From the first moment that I met his mother. she has been remote and uninterested, when concerned with me. I cannot recall anything that I ever did to deserve her derision, other than to not be Dave's ex-wife. He just loved me in a way she never understood and I think she was jealous.
Our initial meeting set the tone for the next 15 years of our relationship. We were living in a little house at Cape Hatteras and Dave's parents came visit us. Almost from the moment she stepped in the door, before Dave even introduced us, his mother burst into tears like a child having a tantrum. It seemed strange to me at the time but I really didn't think too much about it. Dave had his say with her, told her that he was with me now and that was that, so I thought that would be the end of it. I think she decided then and there that I was somehow the cause of Dave's divorce but trust me, I had NOTHING do to with it. Since she basically knew NOTHING about me, that can be the only explanation.
I have never, to my recollection, had someone so much dislike me before they even got to know me. In fact, lots of people really like me. She, on the other hand, had made up her mind way before she had ever even met me that she did not. In retrospect, I am sure her ears were filled with the nonsense of a jealous ex before we finally met and being the easily led type of person that she is, it does not surprise me. And, truthfully, I can't say that I really took to her either. I don't have much patience for women who act like spoiled children to get their way. She always seemed aloof, distant and down right cold to me but in the beginning, I chalked it up to our getting off to such bad start. Plus we lived 3000 miles away for a long time and it was not really a problem. Not until we moved back to N.C. and right next door to her.
Dave and I talked often about his mother's attitude towards me and he always apologized to me for the way she treated me. But then he always reassured me by saying that anything she said or did didn't matter to us because I was his family. Of course, if she knew he had ever said that, she would immediately become defensive and think that he was being ungrateful for all the things she did for him. He wasn't, though. Just the opposite. He was extremely grateful for her support and help over the years, so much so that he gave up the last 10 years of his life living beside of her so that he could be there to help her if she needed him. (And he did it for his dad, who was very ill for a long time.)
I know that she has always thought that I didn't appreciate what she perceived that she had done for me but the fact of that matter is that she never did anything for me personally. I was married to her son, she did things for him, and so I received the benefit by proximity. She never cared enough about me as a person to even ask me anything personal about my life before I met Dave or about my kids, family, etc. She simply didn't give a damn.
The fact that she was able to look me square in the eye just 5 days after Dave he died and tell me that she was renting our beloved farm to someone else confirms everything I have said so far. If she were to deny it, she would be lying to everyone, even herself. She claimed that she could not afford to pay the taxes, etc. on the property and that she needed the income. (We lived there rent free for 10 years, in exchange for being there on the family farm. We didn't ask for that arrangement. It was offered freely by Dave's parents and had everything to do with why we moved back to North Carolina from Oregon. We loved Oregon and would not have left, had we not been enticed to do so. Or we would have lived nearer the ocean that we loved so much.) She basically told me to get out, over a sandwich and homemade cookies. Just like that. Who does that to the grieving widow of their only son?
I might believe her reasons, if she had said any or all of that, before Dave died. If all those things were true the week after Dave died, why were they not true while Dave was still alive and able to talk about it and help me make decisions about what I was to do after he was gone? She certainly had every opportunity to do so. Dave stayed at her house on and off from December of 2009 until hospice came in during the last few weeks of his life (March 2010). Her house was so much bigger than ours and it was just her living there, so it just made sense. Also, she wanted to be able to help with Dave's care and so, over the great misgivings we both had about it, we had hospice set up at her house.
At any time,while he was there, she could have sat us down and explained her plans, her situation, given us any kind of hint as to what she was going to do. Dave was completely lucid and functioning until the last 2 weeks of his life, so that was not a consideration. His mother had every opportunity, over the course of those last four months, to say something to us, and yet she kept silent. Dave trusted her to do the right thing and wouldn't have asked her to make any promises about me and the farm because he believed her to be a better person than she proved to be. She not only betrayed me, she betrayed him.
And I know exactly why she didn't say anything. She was afraid that Dave would make her promise things she didn't want to promise. She was afraid he would ask her to let me stay in the house and on the farm when all she wanted was for me to be gone as soon as Dave was no longer alive. The sad irony of that is that I would never have stayed that close to her with Dave gone. But, because the farm was our sole source of income, I would have required a few months to complete my growing season. By evicting me at the time and in the manner that she did, my entire 2010 season was ruined and so I had no way to produce any income.
With no income and no savings (that was eaten up with uninsured medical bills from Dave's cancer long before he died) I was left not only very nearly homeless but unemployed and penniless. My mother in law assumed that my parents would just take me in with open arms, which they did, but they did not have room for me and the trappings of the last 10 years of my life. I have everything I own in storage, paying for that by selling off my possessions to cover the cost. So far, I have had to sell many of Dave's things as well as those of my own, just to pay for keeping my things in storage. I know many widows who say that they have trouble dealing with just packing up their husbands' things. Imagine if you had to sell off those things before you had even wrapped your head around him being dead in the first place.
Yet, through all of this trial, I keep coming back to one thing. The fact that Dave loved me so very much. Many times he told me he loved me more than he loved any one or anything in his life and that is more precious to me than any things that were his. I only wish that he could have foreseen what his mother was capable of and that we could have avoided this situation. One thing it has done to me is to make me so much less likely to trust people so readily, especially those who are supposed to care.
Dave and I were together for 16 years and in that time I have kept my own counsel on the subject of my mother-in-law. I have kept silent as long as I can and I will simply no longer keep my feelings to myself, not after what she has done. I wasn't going to say the things I am about to but it is not fair for me to have to deal with this for the rest of my life. My way has never been to keep things to myself but that is exactly what I have done, especially for the last 10 years, out of respect for the fact she is Dave's mother. I just can't do it any longer, not without doing harm to my own psyche.
Five days after Dave died, his mother invited me over for lunch and as we were having dessert, she announced to me that I needed to vacate the house and the farm, which she owned but which had been our home for the last ten years. To say that I was shocked by this announcement would be understatement. I had not even completely processed that the love of my life was gone forever when she dropped this bombshell on me. Just like that, no warning, no nothing. Just blurted it out over a sandwich and some cookies.
First of all, for the entire time that Dave and I were together, she never really accepted the relationship. I don't know whether she secretly hoped that if I was out of the picture Dave and his ex-wife would get back together or what. (Of course, that would never have happened, even if I had disappeared off the face of the Earth. His ex sealed her fate with him way before I ever even met him.) From the first moment that I met his mother. she has been remote and uninterested, when concerned with me. I cannot recall anything that I ever did to deserve her derision, other than to not be Dave's ex-wife. He just loved me in a way she never understood and I think she was jealous.
Our initial meeting set the tone for the next 15 years of our relationship. We were living in a little house at Cape Hatteras and Dave's parents came visit us. Almost from the moment she stepped in the door, before Dave even introduced us, his mother burst into tears like a child having a tantrum. It seemed strange to me at the time but I really didn't think too much about it. Dave had his say with her, told her that he was with me now and that was that, so I thought that would be the end of it. I think she decided then and there that I was somehow the cause of Dave's divorce but trust me, I had NOTHING do to with it. Since she basically knew NOTHING about me, that can be the only explanation.
I have never, to my recollection, had someone so much dislike me before they even got to know me. In fact, lots of people really like me. She, on the other hand, had made up her mind way before she had ever even met me that she did not. In retrospect, I am sure her ears were filled with the nonsense of a jealous ex before we finally met and being the easily led type of person that she is, it does not surprise me. And, truthfully, I can't say that I really took to her either. I don't have much patience for women who act like spoiled children to get their way. She always seemed aloof, distant and down right cold to me but in the beginning, I chalked it up to our getting off to such bad start. Plus we lived 3000 miles away for a long time and it was not really a problem. Not until we moved back to N.C. and right next door to her.
Dave and I talked often about his mother's attitude towards me and he always apologized to me for the way she treated me. But then he always reassured me by saying that anything she said or did didn't matter to us because I was his family. Of course, if she knew he had ever said that, she would immediately become defensive and think that he was being ungrateful for all the things she did for him. He wasn't, though. Just the opposite. He was extremely grateful for her support and help over the years, so much so that he gave up the last 10 years of his life living beside of her so that he could be there to help her if she needed him. (And he did it for his dad, who was very ill for a long time.)
I know that she has always thought that I didn't appreciate what she perceived that she had done for me but the fact of that matter is that she never did anything for me personally. I was married to her son, she did things for him, and so I received the benefit by proximity. She never cared enough about me as a person to even ask me anything personal about my life before I met Dave or about my kids, family, etc. She simply didn't give a damn.
The fact that she was able to look me square in the eye just 5 days after Dave he died and tell me that she was renting our beloved farm to someone else confirms everything I have said so far. If she were to deny it, she would be lying to everyone, even herself. She claimed that she could not afford to pay the taxes, etc. on the property and that she needed the income. (We lived there rent free for 10 years, in exchange for being there on the family farm. We didn't ask for that arrangement. It was offered freely by Dave's parents and had everything to do with why we moved back to North Carolina from Oregon. We loved Oregon and would not have left, had we not been enticed to do so. Or we would have lived nearer the ocean that we loved so much.) She basically told me to get out, over a sandwich and homemade cookies. Just like that. Who does that to the grieving widow of their only son?
I might believe her reasons, if she had said any or all of that, before Dave died. If all those things were true the week after Dave died, why were they not true while Dave was still alive and able to talk about it and help me make decisions about what I was to do after he was gone? She certainly had every opportunity to do so. Dave stayed at her house on and off from December of 2009 until hospice came in during the last few weeks of his life (March 2010). Her house was so much bigger than ours and it was just her living there, so it just made sense. Also, she wanted to be able to help with Dave's care and so, over the great misgivings we both had about it, we had hospice set up at her house.
At any time,while he was there, she could have sat us down and explained her plans, her situation, given us any kind of hint as to what she was going to do. Dave was completely lucid and functioning until the last 2 weeks of his life, so that was not a consideration. His mother had every opportunity, over the course of those last four months, to say something to us, and yet she kept silent. Dave trusted her to do the right thing and wouldn't have asked her to make any promises about me and the farm because he believed her to be a better person than she proved to be. She not only betrayed me, she betrayed him.
And I know exactly why she didn't say anything. She was afraid that Dave would make her promise things she didn't want to promise. She was afraid he would ask her to let me stay in the house and on the farm when all she wanted was for me to be gone as soon as Dave was no longer alive. The sad irony of that is that I would never have stayed that close to her with Dave gone. But, because the farm was our sole source of income, I would have required a few months to complete my growing season. By evicting me at the time and in the manner that she did, my entire 2010 season was ruined and so I had no way to produce any income.
With no income and no savings (that was eaten up with uninsured medical bills from Dave's cancer long before he died) I was left not only very nearly homeless but unemployed and penniless. My mother in law assumed that my parents would just take me in with open arms, which they did, but they did not have room for me and the trappings of the last 10 years of my life. I have everything I own in storage, paying for that by selling off my possessions to cover the cost. So far, I have had to sell many of Dave's things as well as those of my own, just to pay for keeping my things in storage. I know many widows who say that they have trouble dealing with just packing up their husbands' things. Imagine if you had to sell off those things before you had even wrapped your head around him being dead in the first place.
Yet, through all of this trial, I keep coming back to one thing. The fact that Dave loved me so very much. Many times he told me he loved me more than he loved any one or anything in his life and that is more precious to me than any things that were his. I only wish that he could have foreseen what his mother was capable of and that we could have avoided this situation. One thing it has done to me is to make me so much less likely to trust people so readily, especially those who are supposed to care.
Dave and I believed strongly in the natural order of things. What could be more natural than to have completed the circle of life? As soon as we are born, we are on the path to our death...it is inevitable and it comes to us all. Dave understood and accepted that circle far better than I. He was not afraid of his passing, although he was sad about leaving so soon. When he was close to the end of his life and he knew it, he spent an entire day talking to me about how much he loved me, telling me that he had never loved anyone or anything as much as he loved me and I told him the same things. The truth of all those words was incredibly beautiful but it broke my heart because I knew that he was telling me those things because he knew he wouldn't be able to in a short while. I am very grateful for that day and that we were able to say all those things to each other one last time.
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