TellWinds

 

"Any day now I will hear you say 'Goodbye, my love'
And you'll be on your way
Then my wild beautiful bird, you will have flown, oh,
Any day now I'll be all alone,

'cause you won't be around

Don't fly away, my beautiful bird
Don't, don't fly away..."

 'Any Day Now' sung by Chuck Jackson - 1962

Three years ago on the Sunday before the Tuesday, the day that  she died,  which was November 8, 2011, DJ had what I believe was the worse day of the illness she had been diagnosed with four years earlier. She was in the last days of her life and hospice had been called in; during that time the nurse made her daily visits but really, we were just holding the final watch. Over the previous two weeks her condition had deteriorated to the point where now she was rarely conscious; she did not appear to be in any physical distress, just sleeping, occasionally opening her glazed eyes and appear to stare off at some point about which only she knows; very few words were spoken by her. Starting early in the day on that Sunday, her breathing had become erratic and labored and altho she didn't appear to be in any physical pain, her breathing sounded as if she was in great discomfort. Oxygen didn't seem to help much and for most of that day all that me and our children could do was to stay near and hold her, apply the moistening swabs to her mouth and wait. It was a hellish day and I pray I never have to experience anything like it again. It was not my first experience at being so close to someone whose time was near; before in combat I had witnessed and been part of similar moments, but none of them had the effect this time would have, they couldn't, because here, I was watching someone whom I had known for over 45 years and been a husband to for some 40, slowly slip away. The day passed in an agonizingly slow manner with the children and I taking turns looking in and sitting with her. Once or twice during this period, one of the girls would come to the living room where I sat between watches and tell me DJ had asked for me and I would go back in and sit and look and wait and think and cry. Now, looking back, I have to believe I started going into shock from that day; the reality of her death was staring back at me as I looked at her…me, trying to detect any signs of pain she might be having so I could minister her medicine in a feeble attempt to feel as if I was somehow making things easier. At this point all notions of doses and time intervals had long been discarded and replaced with my own perception of what I thought might be any pain she may have been experiencing. Long before, in the early days after the diagnosis, I had promised her that she would not be in pain; I tried to keep that promise. After DJ died, there would be times when the memory of this particular day would come to me and the horror of it would be relived, my mind would stray to the land of doubt and I would question myself as to whether I had done every thing in my power to make her flight easier, often ending in tears and appellations to the greater Power that " Please Lord, let me have done everything I could…". In the Afterloss that day haunted me for some time and I'm convinced it was a major factor in my decision to throw myself away, an act I only narrowly averted completing successfully.
 Being well aware that I am not alone in this type of situation, I recount it here only to use as a marker of some type on my own Path of the continuing Journey we all are making…not a guidepost, a marker of how, slowly, over time, I have come to be able think of this and things like it without so much of the doubt, uncertainty, fear and most of all, the pain this all once held. For me, I think the mere passage of time is not what has made the difference, but the lessons I've learned and the hope gained through the examples shown by the people I've met who have given support which has made a huge difference; today I can reflect about it with some measure of ease and be assured that I have found a safe place in my own mind for what has occurred and for the emotions which can be generated when they come to the forefront. I'm told that letting go is one of the most difficult things for human beings to do, and for the most part I can believe that. Wanting to hold on appears to be one of those traits of our humanity which requires a great deal of effort on our part to deal with. In the best of situations, where we can even have a coherent understanding of what is happening, it is hard; in situations where coherency is absent and absolutely everything appears to make no sense at all, it can seem impossible. Intellectually, as a rational idea, I thought I understood what was happening, but in the realm of emotional realities I had no clue of the impact DJ's dying would have on me or the lasting emotional and physical toll it could take. The flight of DJ's presence from my life is the one event which has brought me to the realization of just how tenuous my grasp of the notion of life and living actually was and in many cases, still is. Making the Journey has required me to examine myself in a way which has forced me to alter many ideas I had about not only if I wanted to continue living forward, but just how I would conduct myself in that attempt at living. With this conduct not being some attempt at honoring or somehow enhancing DJ's memory, or somehow place myself above others, no, that memory can stand on it's own merit, it has to...this is about how I want and maybe even need to see myself today.  Now, this is not to say that everyone who endures such loss is brought to this same point, no, these are my own observations about myself and my Journey, as is often said, in this, we are all different . Today I find it easier to ignore annoyances which at one time might have driven me to speak or act in a negative way; lack of patience was never really an issue with me, and now it is even more enhanced; learning to accept what I might have once called shortcoming in others has forced me to look inward long before I attempt to analyze and opine as to the actions of those around me;  being concerned about the plight of others was never anywhere near the top of my list, but I find today I can at least attempt to empathize and try to better understand what others might be going through in a given situation. I'm sure a lot of this change in behavior has to do with the company I fell in with soon after DJ's death; mostly other widowed folks whose experiences and life lessons I have been exposed to and fortunately, in a lot of instances, have been able to incorporate into my own life, and this has helped me to understand how to approach a better design for living. All of this has not necessarily made me the best person I can be, but I think it has made me a better human being; the flight of DJ making the necessary room in my make up, and the pain resulting from that flight making the changes unavoidable if I am to survive in the different life with any semblance of peace of mind. Of course these are all very personal things and I think we each will come to our ways, means, and explanations for ourselves, it almost has to be that way given the nature of our individuality and the very nature of personal loss.
 In my own experience, I cannot say the time since that particular Sunday has passed any more slowly or quickly than anything else. I can say that one of the things I have noticed is the sometimes unsettling way of how quickly my mind can take me to moments in the past making them appear to have happened only yesterday or even within the last few seconds and at other times as if it all occurred in some way distant past; I imagine it's a quirk of the human mind, but I don't really know. As with many of my memories today, time has skewed and sometimes seemingly twisted the way they comes back to me; the more consistent elements in all of this are the feelings that the memories evoke and waves of emotions upon which they ride as they wash over me again and again at times. At one time, early on, these internal tidal waves carried enormous amounts of pain and despair, with it threatening to take me in it's undertow completely, as time has moved, altho the tidal waves still appear at times, only rarely now am left spent, emotionally drained from an episode of deep sobbing. This cannot be said for that first year, that time when my mind was constantly flooded with all manner of changing emotions and when tears and pain were the order of the day. In the time of that first year as the initial shock wore off and ideas about normal, what I thought should be, right and wrong, good, bad, and down even to the basic principles I had lived my life with to that point, were all brought into question; I found I had to completely restructure the way I viewed my area of operation in this world if I were to move forward in the different life with any measure understanding and peace. Examining memories as I attempted to glean some meaning about all of it, at least for myself, I found how my personal character defects which I had become so accustomed to and felt comfortable about, exposed as glaring examples of how I did not want to behave going forward. I came to understand that my penchant for selfishness was not necessary; the brush of skepticism with which I painted almost all others was found to be without merit and definitely without reason as nothing in my upbringing had predestined that I carry such an attitude; the air of cynicism I attributed to most things had to be discarded. These things and much more were brought to task in the aftermath of DJ's death, things which at first glance can seem unrelated, but which I have found for me  to be genuinely connected with the life I shared with DJ. It may be that we all have to discover those special revelations about ourselves, those things the death of a partner brings forth, so I don't think this is anything exclusive to me. Leading into the second year a lot of the confusion and uncertainty eased as a certain familiarity with DJ's absence set in, bringing it's own issue of how could I ever get comfortable with the idea that she was not now and would never be here again;  a different pattern of living evolved, not so much so from any conscious effort on my part but more as the result of the practicalities associated with the day to day living we are all involved with. But for me, that second year also held the onset of what I now call the hard realizations associated with DJ having died; the fact of death came back to me in powerful moments of panic, sadness, and even shock, displaying the ability to at times, bring me not only to tears, but literally, to my knees. There were moments when I was stunned by the force of the emotions…the impact seeming to be just as hard and deep as those very first moments when I realized that the bird I had cherished and loved had flown away and would not be returning. Times when I was brought back to that state of mind which would force me to say out  loud, "Did that shit really happen…??"  But also in that second year, the ability to actually look to the future with hope was gained; a different confidence made it's presence known as I was able to actually try new things, meet new people and engage socially, something that before I had only done mostly through DJ. It was an mind expanding exercise for me as I tried to deal with the effects of incorporating the fact of DJ's death and the dawning light of hope I was starting to experience. It was a strange time as well as reality and possibility traveled parallel lanes through my mind, each requiring a conscious effort on my part; on the one hand to try and understand just how to find a safe place for those memories of DJ and our shared life, and on the other, how to actually live forward with any belief in hope for that the different life, a life alone now, might provide. I was told and I came to believe that it is all part of the Journey, passing the various mental forks and intersections of the mind along the way.  With support from new found friends, mostly widowed folks, through their suggestions and examples, I was able to begin to find safe places for these and many more things that year provided.
 Much like DJ, the third year has flown away and in much the same way as she didn't have a choice, neither does time, it inexorably moves on. And also like her leaving, the year leaves behind memories, experiences and lessons which I hope I will find useful moving forward in the different life. Once, in the midst of a high temperature discussion we were having, DJ said to me, "…keep it up, you just keep being this way and you'll end up being alone and sad…". She had been not so gently chiding me for a comment I had made regarding needing her or anyone else to make it in this life…as I say, it was a Hi-Temp discussion but I understand the context in which she meant it; she probably could not know just how true her words would come to be, altho not for the reasons she may have thought. Over the past three years, despite having good family and others around, at times I have felt so damn sad and lonely; fortunately, much of those feelings have also taken flight and the ability to look forward with a good measure of hope has landed around me. The Journey of Grief is so personal that I think we each have to arrive at our own space of understanding and peace in our own time and our own way. For me, the trek has included a wide range of human emotions and has enlightened me to the delicate grasp we may have on these fleeting moments we call life. My appreciation for those moments has deepened and for those situations which require it, I find myself more willing to really hear rather than just listen and to try and actually see versus merely observing. Now, the rewards of this may not manifest itself in the guise of those tangible assets normally associated with success, but for me, the increase in internal satisfaction and mental serenity cannot be measured. This is something I am truly grateful for today as there was a time when just the idea of such a state could not realistically be comprehended; having a certain familiarity about the different life no longer causes me concern and being able to accept, to some degree, all that has occurred in the past three years is a welcomed relief from those earlier times of despair and disconcerted spirits. In our circles the phrase "things don't get easier, they get better", can often be heard and I'm finding it to be true. For the most part there are less tears, and fewer moments of the sudden panic which was once so a part of the Journey, are evident. The flight of my beautiful bird has left a vacuum I still struggle to fill; it is an arduous task but one which I think has to be taken on if we are to live forward.
 It is often said by us that we would not wish this Journey on our worse enemy, I think it's really just a way for us to try and make clear the power of the pain and misery involved. We understand more than many others  that in the final analysis, in this, none of us have any true control. Personally I have come to think that in a twist on this, and in an almost absurd way, I hope folks do make the Journey; it may well indicate that they too have experienced the deep love, caring and devotion a truly rewarding relationship can offer. At this point I am thoroughly convinced that even knowing the outcome I would not do anything different in regards to the life that DJ and I shared; If I had been fully informed on what the Afterloss offered, still, I would have chosen the life with DJ and gladly accepted all that has taken place over the past three years; my time with DJ has value beyond any of my feeble attempts to describe it. For those of us whose birds have flown, coming to grips with the different life may be the greatest challenge we face. Major adjustments are necessary for us to try and move ahead and make some sense of what has happened and how to live with the results. We take a step at a time, day by day, anchoring our belief in the spirit of Hope as we look forward, many times upward, searching for and even sometimes almost seeing the traces in the clouds of the faint tailwinds left by our beautiful birds; our silent cries of "…don't fly away…" , heard only by our own inner ears as we watch and feel such a powerful sense of emotion that we cannot contain it all and it spills from our eyes...for me, no matter how many times the scene replays, the results remain the same…   

Yessss...

 


                         
"When I recall, what we had, I feel lost, I feel sad
With nothing but the memory of Yesterlove…"
from the song 'Yesterme, Yesteryou, Yesterday' - Stevie Wonder, 1969



During this time in October three years ago, our family was celebrating Thanksgiving…we were having the traditional dinner get together early that year, the disease which had been claiming DJ's life cell by cell was overtaking us and we all knew that she would probably not last until the official date on which we normally would have gathered for food, fun and talk. We were coming to the end of an almost four year odyssey which had ran the gamut of human emotions and brought us to know challenges which terminal illness brings and which we could not have envisioned.  In the previous two years this time has found me deep in the throes of grief, reliving those moments of that day which are forever etched in my memory; DJ, now in a wheelchair, sitting at our dining room table eating the meal which she had not been able to participate in preparing; me, wondering just what was going through her mind as she watched our kids, her mother, the close cousins and nieces, her sisters and a few very dear friends eat and talk and poke fun and laugh and I imagine, each, quietly dying a bit inside themselves also as they came to understand better that it really was happening.

 This year, the memory of all this is coming a bit easier, softer and more familiar…but only a bit. These days it does not take the changing temperatures from Summer to Fall to let me know the seasons are shifting. Now, as August fades and September makes it's appearance, I am brought to this time after which, the lives of our family and my own, would be changed forever. Earlier that year, in June the doctor had informed us that the Chemo regimens had been exhausted and any further treatments would be useless. That day, as we walked the distance of the short hallway, past the room filled with comfortable recliners where the medicine was administered and where we had spent so many hours, DJ faltered and leaned against the wall along which the elevator was positioned, and silently began to sob. Putting my arm around her, I held her as we stood there silently, our erratic breathing picking up the rhythm of some unknown beat, our breaths and motions almost in unison, our touch exchanging the messages which could never be expressed in words and whose meaning can only be understood by those with a deep, intimate knowledge of one another. Two of the nurses whom we had come to know stopped to offer words of understanding and solace , expressing their concern and wishing us peace during this time. It's a powerful memory indeed and for a good while one which brought me to uncontrollable tears. It is safe to say that despite the many, what might be traumatic events, I have never experienced anything approaching what this can bring to mind.

 Soon after this, as July came and went and as the days of August became fewer, DJ's condition slowly got worse. Over the previous, almost four years she had been able to pretty much do as she wished; her vibrancy had remained intact, her ability to get around had only been affected to a minor degree and the discomfort of the side effects caused by the medicine had been minimal. Now, it was difficult for her walk and her energy level had plummeted, an increase in pain had required an adjustment to the medication and she was sleeping more. They were all signs that we were fast approaching the end which we had all known was coming but somehow thought we might avoid, but which  was now actually happening and which we had dreaded. These were some of my thoughts on that day as we shared that special meal, that special time. DJ's younger sister and two favorite cousins had flown in from out of town bearing gifts as DJ's birthday had been on the first of the month, other close family members were there, and of course our kids were present. I remember it well and always will, but a lot of the pain which was present in earlier years for me is not there now. Over the course of the Journey, through an appreciation gained by reflection, tears and support from others, the mental exercise of thinking about all of this is taking on a different tenor now and the once excruciating pain brought by it has eased somewhat; it is becoming a Yesterday I can more easily endure when it comes to mind. Early on I had come to understand that those certain dates, times and events could be triggers for great anxiety and sadness; I had decided to try and not let them dictate the measure of my emotional state, but in this I have only been marginally successful; but is a fact of my life that these days do not produce much more pain than I endure every day as I think of DJ and our life together. As we have agreed that the Journey is different for each of, with no one of us having all the answers for someone else, I am finding this works for and is true in my life.

 Thinking of the Yesteryou DJ represents in my life is not totally without issue, it can't be, but the stinging pain once associated with that missing you has decreased tremendously. Today I can recall how she was, the foibles of her personality and the things she brought to my life with a much greater understanding and respect. Now, as I begin to truly come to know the impact she made on me, the diluting of the pain is occurring and in it's place, in most instances, a calmness and affirmation is replacing that which was once stormy and doubtful. I imagine this is a result of reflection and that the easing of distress is a function largely due to the passage of time. Altho it is said that time heals, I have become convinced that it is what we do for ourselves during that time which can really make the difference in our emotional well being. This is not to say that I have mastered any of this, only that a better perspective has been afforded me and I can really see and feel the difference; translating that difference into a better design for living forward appears to be my challenge now.
 When Yesterme comes to mind, images of a very different person presents itself and as I examine the life I lived and the one we shared, new safe places are being made for things which at one time I found painful and I have come to better understand the frailties and limits of our human natures. I think I have come to deal with myself as a true human being with all that being human implies. This has helped me to eliminate much of the regrets, judgments and drawing of false conclusions about things which we lived through, fought about, became resentful over and about which might have caused me issues in the past. It is a good thing too, as the power of grief sometimes tends to having us crucifying ourselves over past thoughts and behavior actually rendering us incapable of performing even the most basic of human endeavors. Perhaps it is a component of that human nature that we are hardest on ourselves and at times appear to demand much more of us than we would ever consider demanding of others, I don't know, but for me, recognizing that this may exist, can maybe allow us to integrate our shortcomings into the sometimes rough fabric of our lives. Many parts of the yesterme of our lives are necessarily discarded as we move forward, they have to be in order for us to realize any progress along the Journey, at least I think so. Just as at one time as I thought about that Thanksgiving day and would be overcome with enormous amounts of sadness and self pity, this year, much of that is no longer; being able find joy and gratitude that we had the day at all, that DJ was able to be with those she cared for the most, that despite the terrible effects of the disease she was largely able to enjoy that time and most of all, being able to know that all this occurred with her having attained a great measure of personal peace about, is something I now really understand and makes me and our family very fortunate indeed.

 In the song from which the lines at the top of this comes, Stevie proclaims " When I recall what we had, I feel lost I feel sad with nothing but The memory of yesterlove and now it seems those yesterdreams Were just a cruel And foolish game we had to play…", and to an extent, sometimes I do feel lost and sad, and the notion that it was all just a cruel and foolish game creeps in, I'm sure we all do, I don't think it can be avoided. But, the energy we put into believing or making that a fact of our lives is something which I believe is under our control and today I'm choosing to embrace the idea that sometimes being lost and sad is a built in part of our human nature but that we have the ability to negotiate the unfamiliar landscapes and weather those times when overwhelming sadness rears it's head.  And yes, I think we have to play, in all honesty, it was the only game we knew and the rules were sorted out as we went along. I believe our human condition make this necessary. And DJ and I did play; starting early in the morning of our lives and like those other, maybe less important but just as enjoyable games we played as children, we played it for all it was worth well into what can be considered late in the evening of our days, with it having that special meaning, much like those nights of summer when our folks allowed us to stay out longer than usual when the full richness of life could not be denied.

 We all know our YesterLove was real, tangible and that today we sorely miss the benefits it provided, for those of us who grieve in the afterloss, it can be a daunting task to examine the realities which we lived, the pain we endure, but that too I believe is part of this game we call life. Coming to terms with what we find to be the rules presents each of us with our own set of issues, I don't think it can be avoided. But I think we can have Hope that it can be done, that we can manage the vagaries which are presented and create a design for living forward which includes a greater understanding of ourselves and the potential we have as human beings. As we move there will be diversions and disappointments; we will come to know other events which will cause us sadness, uneasiness and resentments, it's called living, and despite all which has occurred, we are alive, our challenge may be to see just how much we can live, how much we can explore and affirm; perhaps being able to gain some measure of lasting emotional peace about our loved ones may well depend on just how much we can say Yessss to all of it.        

" Oh, one more night, 'cos I can't wait forever..."

One More Night - Phil Collins

"Nite Ba'y"...it's something that I  have not heard DJ say in over three years; I miss it. She usually called me Ba'y, probably the most common corruption of the word Baby, sometimes Fred, among other things at times, but mostly Ba'y. I'm sure many of you can relate as I'm certain that the nome de familia your mate referred to you as, can evoke that special feeling and the accompanying memories as this does for me. Over the years since her death, as I've climbed into bed each night, at various times, the absence of hearing this has come to mind, early on producing many tears and heartache but gradually fading into feelings of melancholy and wistfulness, not so much producing tears, but that deep, truly gut wrenching feeling of a special hollowness which you Know cannot be filled.  It's to be expected I imagine, this missing of things which were once so familiar, so comforting, so….them. As time has moved forward, the feelings things like this brings to the fore have also moved, shifted, taken on a different form. Much of the fear, discomfort and confusion they produced in those early times has dissipated and for me at least, has been replaced with a kind of resignation to facts which mostly only those grieving can really appreciate.

 In a couple of months it will officially be three years since I watched and listened as DJ,  laying back on her lounger and leaning slightly against me, drew her last earthly breath in the quiet  early hours of a Tuesday morning in November. Almost four years of accelerated living for us was coming to an end and I sat numb and shocked as what we had talked about, lived with and dreaded during those years was actually coming to pass.  As I monitored her last moments I remember being conflicted; in one aspect I felt relieved, her pain, suffering and fear was coming to an end; in another, a bewilderment and fear was taking hold and I did not have any idea of what was to come next and in many respects, then, I did not care. Some of that experience and other things about our life together have been recounted in other pages here on this site and the opportunity to put them into words have made a tremendous difference I think in my own Journey. Soon afterwards, as I experienced that period I have since heard so many here speak of, that time when you can feel that 'yes, I've got this…', that time when shock is truly in control and our minds and emotions are being protected from the total force of the implications of what has occurred, and I felt fairly certain that I was handling things as I should. But the reality of grief has to have it's way and after a while the hard reality begins to set in and we come to understand the full and complete impact of our losses. Like it is for many, it was a dangerous time for me, almost every single preconceived notion I had about how to move forward was brought into challenge and found wanting; my ability to know it all was proved to be of no use to me and I stood at the corners of my true self and the person I had thought I was and what I believed. This led me to a state of mind where throwing myself away appeared to be just as logical as making the effort at living forward…a dangerous time indeed.

 It can be a scary time for us and for me, attempting to find safe places for all the thoughts and emotions about what had happened has been the greatest challenge of my life to this point. It is understood that the event and the resulting efforts to come to terms with it is not limited to me, no, such a narrow focus would not do justice to any of us…all of us, this is simply my own reflections of how that event has affected me. As the shock faded and I came to better understand that I had no experience with this type of loss, through support and an honest effort on my part to make some sense out of the seemingly senseless, I have been able to have hope that the paths of the Journey, altho at times painful, can be navigated. This can be a hard thing to believe early on when everything in your life to that point is brought into question and plans, hopes and dreams are not just forced to be put on hold, but can be thoroughly dashed, with a finality which is devastating. For myself I found I had to truly embrace the idea of Hope…not just expound it in some flowery expressions to be posted here and there, but to actually begin to live it. It is one of the basic ideas I have had to try and carry forward with each step along the way one day at a time…sometimes even moment to moment. As our grief is not a competition, I will not attempt to relate any difficulties or compare that as being any worse than this, just some of the things which I have found myself dealing with.

  In those young days as I would lay down each night, missing that oh, so familiar phrase, I found the act of saying my prayers difficult; after what had happened could I still sincerely include "thank you Lord for keeping our family healthy and our home safe…"; do I now omit the line "I am grateful for…"…I understand we all have different challenges, these were just some of mine. As I struggled with the onset of the hard realities and was forced to honestly face myself, in some measure I was able to make some answers for myself that made sense to me, answers which allowed me to be relieved of the burden of so many unnecessary what if's and whys. Coming to understand that I did not need to have all the answers was a liberating experience, making it easier for me to examine those things which haunted me with an eye of the mind which made finding some answers for and understanding a little better the life which DJ and I shared and myself as a human being that much easier.  Looking back, I can recall those times when nights offered no sleep; when exhaustion was a constant companion and apathy ruled the day; times when just the thought of DJ would trigger enormous amounts of tears and car screaming became a regular past time for me; times when only the thought of harming someone else prevented me from making a left turn into oncoming traffic and when many of the trains at the nearby crossing seemed to be huge magnets attracting my car; times when I dreaded mounting the steps to our home because I knew DJ would not be inside when I opened that door; those times remain not so very far from the front of my mind. This is not to say those times don't still appear, they do, but now, with a better understanding and outlook, most times, their impact can be absorbed with those moments passing as I can better balance the events and the associated emotions. Of course the Waves still appear and I understand that now I am a permanent passenger on the special roller coaster of grief. Being able to accept that because of DJ's love and caring which has made up such a large part of my life, knowing that we have shared something so special, fully believing that just as there is a time for joy, there inevitably has to be a time for sadness and having a personal belief that all things must balance, today, I am better able to move along the Journey.

 At times it can be difficult living without the familiar things which a rich shared life offers…the safe companionship, the knowledge of unconditional love, the quiet times, the special moments…but I have personally found that the human spirit is remarkably resilient. Making answers I can live with has been what has helped me most, being able to take a perspective I can claim to understand is allowing me make an honest effort at living forward. For sure like, easy, and other words relating to the difficulty involved do not come into play here, I think it's a decision we each must make and for me that decision is firmly based on Hope. I'm not so sure it really matters what we find to base it on, the point of the exercise, at least for those of us who truly care to, is that we continue living forward in an attempt to enjoy the gift of this state of being we call life. It took a while for me to really grasp the importance of this, ideas had to be examined, some long held thoughts had to be abandoned and many notions of what should be had to be discarded in order to make room for a  different design for living forward in the different life. And in this approach to living forward, I realized the extent to which the success or failure depended on my ability to examine things honestly, at least to myself if no one else.  In a big way it started with me admitting that I always knew that in my understanding and belief, things must balance; to me, the very meaning of the word life implied death; I had seen death before, family, friends and in combat. The fact that I chose not to think about either DJ or myself dying did not change the fact of that understanding and belief. Being able to admit that I had no concept of what losing a spouse might be like was a major step. So my issue came down to not being able to prepare for what life would be like without her and in that, I was not alone, none of us could. From that start it carried over into coming to understand that many of the things being faced in the different life and which appeared to cause me much distress, were things which had always existed, with their impact and importance being masked by sharing their nuances with someone special; lines are sometimes always long in any given store, making contact with this or that agency always seemed to take forever on the phone, appliances always break down at the most inopportune times, these and other things which before we seemed to have taken in stride can become sources of persistent irritation as we face them alone. For a while, almost every unexpected incident seemed to throw me for a loop, learning to remember that they were not new, just different now helped me to minimize the affect they had on me.

 Naturally this is just a portion of the effort but it may give an insight into how I am approaching the Journey, a Journey about the effects of which, I hear many of us ask, "Does it ever end…?". For me I am convinced it only ends with our own death, it is part of me, of my life's story and I think that's how it should be. Any portrait of my life would be incomplete and inaccurate without all of this being a part of it. So for me, yes, the memories remain, the thoughts of times gone by surprisingly, (and despite my thoughts very early on) remain fairly vivid and enjoyable…most times. Of course there are those moments, like the one I mention at the very start of this, when the hard realization hits home with full force, straight, no chaser and I am again brought face to face with the fact of DJ's absence.  But now I don't have to question or attempt to define those times, accepting them as part of the different life is necessary in order for me to continue to live without so much doubt and pain.

 Early on it was suggested to me that one destination of the Journey might be to arrive at a point where we could have the memories without so much of the pain; today, for the most part I can say that is happening for me. Reliving the time we shared, I often find myself smiling as I think of DJ and the 'features' of her personality as expressed in the many various ways depending on the situation. Much of the piercing pain is not as apparent as before and the tears flow a lot less at those times. I was so afraid early on that either I would forget them, or that the thought of them would be so painful that I would not want to remember, thankfully, that has not happened. I'm sure all of this is being generated by the fact that over the next couple of months a few dates of importance are coming; September has the birthdays of our two oldest children, October contains DJ's and our youngest daughter birthdays as well as our wedding anniversary and November, along with Thanksgiving and her sister's birthday now has the date she died on, marking a full three years this time around. At one time September was actually the unofficial start of our holiday season with the birthdays starting a round of gatherings, cakes and fun times leading up to Christmas day. In a way we were fortunate that first year of her death as we were all in shock and feeling one way or the other about celebrating did not seem to matter much. Since then we have started new traditions in an effort to lessen the impact of the glaring fact that DJ is not here with us, and to try and initiate a new way of thinking about those times; I will say I think it is making them easier for us. As for the passage of time, well I'm sure you all can understand how that works…at once it seems like yesterday, then, at other times like it was so very long ago…a quirk of our human brains, but that's how it is.

 So, on November 8, 2014 I'm sure I will have tears and sadness, but not much more of that than I carry around each day; the sting of her death can still be felt by me and the heart punches produced, remain fairly constant…it's just that my outward expressions of that hurt has changed. We can often hear or read of folks saying '' just one more…'' in relation to the times they have spent with their loved ones; I am no different,  I would give anything to hear DJ say "Nite Ba'y…" just one more time... that's a lie, despite all I might have come to understand and know, regardless of all the answers I might be able to create, beyond any rational sense I might attempt to make of what has happened and the knowledge that it cannot be undone, apart from any reasoning I might try to convince myself with, I am left knowing that I don't want to hear those words just one more time, I want to hear that voice saying them, ringing in my head, right here, right now and for the duration…mercy…

 

Plane Truth...

                                                          

"If you actions do not prove the truth of your words,

Then all your words are lies"

  -Ritu Ghatourey

Recently myself and a few other widowed friends decided to test the effects of  gravity and embarked upon a mission to accomplish a tandem parachute skydive. The idea had originated with my oldest daughter; she had offered the idea during a conversation we were having. She had said it would be her attempt to conquer her fear of flying. Foolishly I had blurted out that sure, I’d jump with her and later, had mentioned it all to some of those friends. The notion took on a life of it’s own as others began to warm to the idea and soon plans were being made for a meetup in Chicago with the main event being The Jump. Inquiries were made, a skydiving outfit chosen and costs determined; a date was set and we all anxiously awaited its arrival. Oddly enough, (or maybe not so oddly), about a month before the jump was to take place, my daughter begged off, citing ‘a dream’ had come to her and she had decided that jumping at this time was not the next right thing for her to do…uhhh-huhhhh.  At any rate, the rest of us forged ahead with our plans and as the weekend of the actual date came around, folks from other parts of the country began to arrive. We had a couple of days prior to the  jump to do some old fashioned meetup things, see some of the sights of the city and enjoy a meal together and of course talk. Some of the folks had not met before other than on-line and there was much hugging and laughs. For me the meetups have proven to be a catalyst allowing me to expand my somewhat inept social skills and an opportunity to meet some of the very nice people who helped me early on as I struggled with the newness of my Journey. I believe these meetups have made all the difference in my ability to have Hope about the future and about the possibilities of a life without DJ physically being here.

 Inevitably the question is asked: “Why would any sane person want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane?” Naturally, the answers are as varied as is the number of people in existence this moment. Personally, I have trouble with heights and have had a fear of flying despite having served overseas where I had more than enough of flying in both airplanes and helicopters. Even upon my arrival on the West coast, back in the States, I opted to trade in the first class plane ticket which had been issued to me by the military and chose instead to take the almost two and a half day train ride across country to Chicago. Since that time my reluctance to fly has faded and today I can do it almost with total ease. A meetup was instrumental in getting me to this point on the flying issue (1 Flew Over the WidowedNet, Blogspot, September 12, 2012), and for that I am forever grateful. As for the jumping out of a plane, for as long as I can remember it has been a major fear of mine. Until recently I had no great need to resolve or attempt to deal with it, but after my daughter mentioned it, what can be my own worse enemy, my mind, went into action. It is common to hear among the discussions carried on by widowed folks that we have faced the worse event of our lives; many times we speak about how nothing could be any more terrifying than losing our partners. And it is true…I for certain know this is true for me. As I thought about that and the notion of parachuting out of an airplane, the question came to mind, having gone through what I know to be the worse, how can you be afraid to do that? After much pondering I decided I couldn’t be afraid, I just couldn’t be. I could decide not to ever jump out of an airplane, but the reason for it, the reason I would have to know deep inside would need to be something other than fear. So I chose to do it and in order to totally surrender to this idea that fear could not rule in this matter, I also decided that all the stories of mishaps, accidents, and even deaths surrounding such an activity could not be allowed to work overtime in my mind. I would have to approach this with a inwardly steely but outwardly mild reserve and make it an oh, so matter-of-fact undertaking.

 Now, I should point out that these are just my musings on why I did such a thing and the fact is I may really be insane…but who’s to say?  Picking up steam, my mind really began to generate other ideas; perhaps, in order to not only be free of this particular fear, maybe this could be the foundation upon which could be sat another building block of changed Fred’s life. This particular block representing my attempt to have my actions prove the truth of any words I might speak, else those words be lies. It is a curious notion that has plagued me for some time, and I wanted to use it in moving forward knowing I have the opportunity to redevelop my attitudes, opinions and actions all in the very different light of DJ’s death. This now comes down not to what others might think, not to what any mass survey might show as some percentile believing and acting this or that way, no, it comes right down to me and what I think of me. Not in what any words others might have to say about me, but what I say to me, in those quiet times when myself must be met and the truth laid bare. I think I should make it clear here that this is not an attempt to declare myself in training for sainthood, no, far from it; I simply want to make it a point to have my actions actually prove I mean what I might say. Perhaps I have put too much into this, over thought it to exhaustion, I really don’t know; some folks tell me I think too much and that may well be true; I do know this is what coming to terms with the idea of jumping from a airplane led me to think. In my mind, I had said that watching DJ die was the worse and most terrifying thing that had ever happened to me to this point in my life and everything else paled in comparison. If those words are to be proven true for me, then my actions have to reflect that and in my mind, that reflection does not allow for me to say to myself I can’t parachute out of a plane or do anything else because I fear the results, I have already seen the worse...so I jumped. Of course I imagine I could have also attempted to cross the local freeway blindfolded in order to make the point, I'm not sure...

By the day of the event I had pretty much come to terms with the idea of jumping, my reasons for doing it having been examined to the nth degree, were placed in a safe place in my mind and I was at relative peace about it all. It would help me to put some context to the notion about words, truths and actions and I was able to concentrate on how to enjoy the experience. Of course, aside from the rumblings of my moody mind, there are those very real and practical things surrounding all of this. Things which have nothing to do with the dubious thoughts and possibly skewed reasoning of some widowed man’s mind. The jump itself was, for me, breathtaking and thrilling, in that order; I do not know the adequate adjectives to convey the experience so those two words will have to do. If I were better with words perhaps I could describe feeling of being hooked to a Jump Instructor and kneeling at the door of an airplane as the wind whips your goggled face, waiting to exit…any attempts to articulate the tremendous range of emotions which I experienced just prior to leaving the plane would fall short I am sure. I believe it’s one of those events which must be personally experienced to be fully appreciated, much like the loss of our partners. I can say this; beyond some natural anxiety about the unknown, and the very reasonable (I think) realization that might go through anyone’s mind ("I’m getting ready to jump out of a #$@!@##!!G airplane!!"), I can honestly say, fear did not make an appearance.  Racing thoughts, anticipation, excitement and even a bit of nausea were present, but not fear.

It should be kept in mind that this particular activity tho presumably more risky than some others, is really quite commonplace and done by most I’m sure without the personal mental aspects I have attributed to my own experience in doing it. But I do believe it is a very personal undertaking nonetheless. Extending the idea of making our words our truths through are actions may not be limited to just our experience in losing our partners. Expanding it to become a basic tenet of my own life going forward is a conscious decision I am making in order to have some measure of peace about myself in the different life. I am coming to believe that some parts of the past life have to come with us as we move along the Journey; there are many things which served us well and should not be forgotten or left behind. But simply because we are changed, because we are different, there are some things I think we have to create differently. Perhaps I put too much into these things; work too hard to ascribe some deep cerebral meaning to things which may well be best taken at face value, as I said, I really don't know. I think I tend to go where my thoughts lead me and I was brought to these words by this event. Trying to make my words translate into truths by my actions is my attempt to approach the different life with Hope; Hope that we can make the days meaningful, not only to ourselves, but others also, the Hope that we can remember that we are all human and subject to the shortcomings inherent in that status, Hope that our ability to turn our sails into the winds of change will stand fast and despite the sometimes turbulent emotional seas we might find, we can also come to know we are up to the task and yes, even Hope for the truly quiet times when we counsel ourselves, that we will not be too harsh with our missteps or over praise ourselves for having done the next right things. Hope that the fears we have, those deep troubling, private fears which disturb our sleep and keep us anxious for what, we know not, will not maintain a grip on our clearer thinking and better judgement. Hope that we can come to really believe that we have and can use the opportunity to make our words our truths, and that those truths will be proven by our actions.

So, It Goes On...

This will be the third Mother’s Day since DJ died, I can’t say that it is coming with any special anxiety, altho the constant everyday background sadness is spiking some and I did awake crying in the middle of the night a few days ago,  there have been no great waves like in the beginning…not this time...yet. Remembering the year of firsts is cloudy at times, but some things do stand out; the first Mother’s Day without DJ is one. I’m visiting that time now only because of our kids…I’m watching as they endure the agony of reliving the entire episode of DJ’s dying as if it were only yesterday; knowing the feeling, we can understand only too well what they are going through. For the most part, that particular feeling, the one where time appears to be stretched and the order of some events can become jumbled appears to come and go at will; it's that time when you really question yourself as to if this happened yesterday, last week or last year; that time when you will be moving along in the different life, doing what you have come to regard as the new normal and out of somewhere, (not nowhere), you are brought to your emotional knees once again by the impact of the hard realization that yes, your loved one is really gone and all that it implies which also comes along. As a parent, I'm  finding it to be one of the most difficult things to deal with, watching as your children are in pain and being unable to ease the agony. We talk and they know I understand, but as with our own loss of partner grief, this can only do so much, only go so far as it's all just so damn personal...I think just being there has to be enough at times.

 In dressing the kids for special days, I imagine DJ was like many mothers; of course there was shopping to be done for new frocks and what not. Early in our marriage, when the girls were young, she loved dressing them alike, later, as they grew older this lost its appeal for them and today they can laugh as they talk about how much they disliked it as they got older. Plans would be made for the day, for us it was usually a family gathering for dinner with gifts being exchanged at some point. Our family is what I call female loaded, now, this is not a bad thing just the fact of our given situation; there appears to be far more women that men in our family, and almost all of them are mothers. DJ’s own mom, being the matriarch would of course be there and along with other family members who were mothers and they all would be given special praise. Sadly, earlier this year, DJ's mother passed, joining her as a memory for us to keep. The bonding which occurred among those women cannot be denied or underestimated and I’m sure this is adding to the already devastating pain the children are having. Sure, the kids and I have sat and talked about the grief, the accompanying pain and the emotional upheaval it has introduced into our lives but at times talk seems useless; altho enduring our own personal experience of grief, we are supporting one another as best we can and I am convinced it has made a difference in each of our own Journeys. For me, this year, this third Mother’s Day without DJ, I am remembering an earlier time, a time which had been fraught with uncertainty and despair, but in the end, really turned out to be one of the most memorable Mother’s Day we every enjoyed.

 It occurred following what DJ and I had come to call the hungry time, not that we actually went without food, but the pickings had been slim for a while, parts of it are detailed here in ‘Solitaire’, April 21, 2012. Because of the situation, we were feeling pretty low, despite our best efforts, we were barley holding on and day to day living had become a real challenge for the first time in our young married lives. But by Mother’s Day of that year things had picked up and we were able to do those things DJ wanted. It had been a time when we were called upon to totally rely on one another and to develop a special trust that managed to carry us through some of the more trying situations we would face in the future. It could have been a time for blaming and recrimination, when she or I could have turned on the other; but that did not happen. Instead, together, we held firm and rallied. I can recall that year’s Mother Day just as clear today as when it actually took place; the girls standing on the porch, they being dressed in new outfits, our son in a crisp new suit as we prepared to meetup with other family members. That we were able to shop for that Mother’s Day had made DJ especially happy and I can remember being so relived that the storm we had been caught in had subsided. Thinking of all of this that first year had sent me reeling to that place where I believe the children have been trapped for the last few days and I know it’s no fun being there . But this and all of the rest of the things which contribute to our grief are not going away, not as long as we live. Trying to develop and understand how to live with it becomes the challenge I think. For me there are moments when everything appears crystalline, in focus, having such clarity that it is almost frightening; what has happened appears to be understood, a rational step by step approach leading to the final events can be grasped and the inevitable conclusion becomes expected and accepted. Then there are the times when everything appears confused and useless and seems to make no sense at all, when any attempt to place things in any perspective fails and what follows is panic and despair; times whenI am left to ponder just what is the purpose of it all and just how the hell does it matter anyway!  Having no experience at charting a balance with these things, in order for us to try and move ahead, we are left to try this and make a best guess at that. At these moments we are challenged to move forward; when, while dealing with the remnant memories of not only our loved ones who have passed, but also that entire life we enjoyed with them which has also passed. We can be  haunted by those events and times which are no longer, and those special moments we can never again have with them, right down to grieving the loss of an entire state of self; here is where the pain resides for me and where all the obstacles of making any sense of not only the world around me, but of me and my place in it also has to be faced.

 Naturally, here, our level and measures of success are all, truly, relevant; this is much too personal for any grand, all encompassing coverall solution. It is my thought that we each come to whatever peace we may find solely because of our own efforts here and I think it’s only right since we individually have to have answers which only have to make sense to us and with which we can live. Those people and things which help and assist us along the way have their place, but our efforts in incorporating any benefits they may offer into our own Journey will determine just how we handle the trek. At times we can find the presence of others a bother, the quotes, mottoes and phrases can sound hollow and saturate us to the point of burnout and we are left to fend with whatever emotional reserves we can draw on. These are things which I often mention to our children, that it is a marathon, not a sprint; it is a Journey for life.  Barring a serious head injury, we will not awake one day and not think about DJ; I don’t think there will be a time when we will suddenly say ‘Hey, I’m over it…’.   It has become apparent to me that one of the costs of great caring and love is the pain which the lost of it brings; personally I have accepted that it should be like this, the dues must be paid. That doesn’t mean I like them, just that to me, it makes sense that it all should be there and therefore, like many other things in our life, it has to be dealt with; regarding this cost, it is one of the answers that I have made for myself and I am able to live with it.

 So this third Mother’s Day without DJ is at once new and at the same time much like previous special days. The memories it generates and emotions released by their appearance change only in the way we perceive them I think. The pain which is there is the one constant for me, and evidently for our children too. Despite my own misgivings at times, I try to remain emotionally available for them and to understand that just as I sometimes feel no one can know the pain I feel, so they too must have the same thought. Accepting that it will always be this way in regards to DJ’s death can be hard to grasp at times, it’s the one thing which I think will always seem foreign to me, that she’s not here; then again, with her being in my every other thought, in a huge way she is always nearby. So, on we go...

ReMEmories

"Scattered pictures,
Of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another
For the way we were"

'The Way We Were"  - written by Marvin Hamlisch - 1973

On a recent Sunday morning as I lazed about only half watching the morning news, the doorbell for our house sounded. These days that is a rare occurrence indeed as other than the initial burst of activity at our home in the couple of weeks immediately following DJ’s death, I would be willing to bet that bell hasn’t rang more than 10 times in the little more than two years since that day…and that includes the post person and deliveries; I will never be accused of being a social butterfly.  As I rested two fingers on the deadbolt and my other hand on the doorknob, I looked through the installed peek-hole; what greeted my eye was the image of a young girl in a slightly soiled pink puff coat, perhaps nine or ten years old, holding a shovel and looking at the door and scanning the porch area. To say we have had more than our share of snow this winter season is a bit more than an understatement, altho it does provide the opportunity for the local kids to earn some cash. Throwing the deadbolt and turning the doorknob, I opened the door and my view expanded to see a young boy standing at the bottom of the porch steps…her associate no doubt. Focusing on the young girl, I listened as she inquired as to whether I would like my steps and porch cleared of snow of which there was quite a lot. Almost without thinking, I replied yes and asked that they extend the shoveled area out to the sidewalk, and make a path to the curb. Without informing me what this would cost, she turned and carefully walked down the few steps and spoke with her companion and the shoveling started. As I shut the door, my mind was taken to a memory triggered by what had just transpired and I recalled how my brother and I did the same type of things as young kids in our own time. It’s a memory like many of those about DJ and the life we shared that I can have today and revel in as I recount the details.
 Such has not always been the case, this reveling in memories, especially those regarding DJ, our life together and her death. I believe all of us can relate to those times of crushing pain and tremendous sadness where, as we replay what has occurred, we can be taken to very dark and lonely places, and for me, those times are not that far removed from today, but for the most part, have come less frequently now altho their intensity has only diminished slightly. Those of us who grieve can find that memories and dealing with them can become the central focus of our lives for quite some time following our loss. At times it appears that our minds refuse to give us rest, with thoughts of, not only what has taken place as far as the dying of our partners, but previous times, events and situations which can crowd in and attempt to trap us beneath a deluge of wildly ranging emotions and devastating realizations. We can come to find that just the mere act of dealing with all which is brought up by our loss can propel us towards those frightening yet seemingly necessary confrontations not only with the specifics of any given memory, but with our previously conceived notions of life, love, hate, good, bad, death….all of it. In that early time as we make the sometimes futile attempts to understand a situation with which we have no previous experience, despite shock and numbness, we can sense the gravity of what has occurred altho the full weight may not make itself known for some time yet. Images of recent events play over and over in our minds, last moments may be recalled, unspoken words can come to mind, possibly unneeded and questionable things we may have said or done can wreak havoc in our lives for a while, leaving us emotional wrecks, many times causing us to bring our own sanity, the strength of our faith, the alignment of the stars, and any sense of certainty we may have once held, into question, and for some of us, forces us to realize that we do not know everydamnthing. It is a harsh awakening and as we travel the path, the Journey exposes our frailties and demands, at least it did for me, that if we are to move forward in the different life, that we understand the importance of finding safe places for our memories.
 The memory triggered by the youngsters at my door, that of my brother and I scrounging the neighborhood for chores in order to earn money for our small enterprises, is not one that presents many difficulties. It can take me to a rather carefree time when we as kids found it safe to roam the streets in search of tasks to perform. Our best efforts were usually on a Saturday in anticipation of going to one or two of the local movie theaters on Sunday, but we were not above taking any opportunity on any given day, Saturdays come to mind I think because they usually were the most profitable for us. For a while after our mother died, my older brother and younger sister and I lived with our dad’s mom. Being that our sister was only a year old at the time, the grandparents had their hands full and my brother and I were often left to our own devices. Those would include going up and down the blocks of our neighborhood knocking on doors and asking for things to do, which could range from cleaning back porches, yards, and garages, to  running errands to the store for the various neighbors…once we helped a lady wash Venetian blinds, the old metal type which we dunked in a tub of water and brushed clean. We would take out trash, and depending on the time of year, rake leaves or shovel snow. There was a period when we had a wagon, and would hang around the local supermarket waiting for folks who might need groceries rolled home. As I talk about these types of things with our kids, other family members and in general, it is with a sense of joy and nostalgia. My older brother really took care of me during those 2 or 3 years when we ran together; I remember once when he was invited to friend’s house to play with a car racing set, he was told only he could go because the boy's mother said only two visitors at a time and there was another kid going; I remember my brother saying “…well, if he (pointing to me) can’t come, I can’t either…”, we didn't go. I have never forgotten that. It’s the type of memory that can give you a special warmth, and atho I’m no genius, I have better sense than to try and name just what type of feeling it is, it’s much like porn to me; not something I may be able to accurately describe, but I know it when I see it or in this case experience that feeling. I’m sure we all have those types of memories, and can understand the types of emotions they can generate, the ones that can let us know that we have been part of a very real connection with someone and and about which, the results were very good. With family it may be expected, with our partner’s I think it grew and blossomed into that beautiful thing, the memory of which we hold so dear and, because of it’s beauty and the special place it holds in our hearts, the feeling it gives us, can make us feel so bad at times. We find it’s hard work dealing with the thoughts and memories of our partners, and for me, finding safe places for those memories about DJ and our life, which I knew from the start would always be there, has really been my primary focus in all of this. I wanted it to be a quick leap, but I was forced to accept that it is a time consuming Journey.
Altho I didn't realize it then, my brother and I were creating those memories to which I refer to often today. Examining DJ's death in the light of how do I move forward in the different life has led my mind to remember things I have not thought about for some time as we find that every part of our life is brought to the fore. Those memories of me and my brother are some of the first I can recall with genuine glee. I cannot recall experiencing much pain about the loss of our mother; I do remember being told she was 'dead' and would not be coming back, I think I remember that making me feel sad, being on five at the time, I'm not really sure. By the nature of our circumstance, my brother and I were together a lot for a few years and did almost everything together. It seems he would magically know when it was spinning top season or marble season or kite season or scooter making season or bottle top shooter season, there was even a match shooter season...probably one of the more dangerous times, but we had it too. For any of these times we would need money to buy the necessary items; spinning tops, marbles, kites, used street skates bought from the second hand store to be used on the scooters, rubber bands for the shooters; matches, the stick type with heads which would ignite when scrapped across a rough surface were lifted from the local mom and pop store. Even after having being involved with and focusing on memories to what I think is an extreme level, it's still amazing to me how the appearance of those two youngsters on my porch sparked such a sequence of thoughts about that time and my childhood and sent me to thinking of DJ. But again, it shows the wonder and power that memories can hold and reminds us of how almost anything can set one's mind to reeling. I make no claims about having any great formal understanding on the dynamics of the human memory or how it is suppose to work; but I do feel fairly comfortable in explaining my own thoughts on the subject because for a little more than two years thoughts about memory, the memories themselves and the effects they have had on me has occupied nearly every waking moment of my life. It is sometimes said that we tend to remember only the good parts of events and situations, that our minds tend to blot out the more negative aspects of things we remember and for the most part I can accept that, but I have also found that in my own case, remembering the good, the bad and the ugly has been the norm for the memories regarding what DJ and I shared and perhaps that's the way it has to be about something so personal. Navigating through them, I came to realize that those most of enjoyable moments and well as those times I'd just as soon as forget came to me with equal force, requiring equal attention and processing. Just as thoughts of the happier times could give a feeling of quiet inner joy, peace and solace, so those moments when the more human of our traits were exposed and the better angels of our nature were nowhere to be found, could drive my spirits to depths I could not have previously imagined.
 These days the memories about us which come to mind exist along with or may even be the reason for the dull persistent drone of the background sadness which is now part of my life. It is curious that this sadness does not prevent me from really enjoying other things at this point…something I don’t think I could have said a year ago. For sure, the thoughts come that I wish she was here, those moments at a given event when I say to myself, “DJ would love this…”, those rare days now, when I can say and believe all is right with the world and I would just love to share that day with her…yes, it all comes but are tolerable, even looked forward for, despite the fact I must enjoy them without her. Recalling the happier times comes easier, thinking about the quirks and features which endeared DJ to me so, today, does not cripple my mind at every turn; I am able to relive almost all of the memories and gain that warmth from the appropriate ones and recognize the realities of the less enjoyable moments we shared…I have come to believe that at least for now, it is part of my different life. Naturally, the waves still hit, moments of sheer unadulterated sadness and pain, forcing me to surrender to their power; I find no fault with this and having understood long ago it was useless to fight them, I let them have their way. To me, this is as it should be, I should feel the stinging nature of what has been lost; I should come to know the pain that DJ’s absence can give at times and even expect it, I loved that woman, loved her by any definition you may want to use and it hurts that she is no longer with me…I believe there are dues to be paid for having such a rich and pleasing relationship and this is part of the price. Moreover, for me, I think it should be this way, these powerful memories are part of our lives, without them our partners and I think a part of us cease to exist. What the Journey has enlightened me on is that I have to learn to carry those memories without bringing so much of the pain along with them. The majority of my efforts in my attempt to actively grieve has been built around this notion. And it is happening for me, I cannot say exactly why, be it my efforts or simply the passage of time, but for sure, it is happening.
 There was a time when I could hardly believe that life would be livable again, a time when just the thought of another day without DJ would draw that dagger of pain right into the heart of my mind; a time when I was able to throw concern for family or those who really cared about me, right out the window, with the idea of me soon following being my next logical step. We all know those times and in my experience they were the worse I have ever endured. There are no magic solutions for those who must live with them; we each have to find our own way through them, trying things, reshaping ideas and trying to maintain Hope that yes, it will get better. For myself I realized that no matter what the question, I needed to find answers which I could live with…solutions which made sense to me. In my case, it does not matter what others may think of my reasoning, there is no need for me to go into long discussions of why I have decided to believe this way or that; the memories have led the way and being mine, only have to make sense to me. They have allowed and helped me understand that in this particular scheme, in this thing we call life I can’t and shouldn’t always depend on finding my answers in the solutions of other’s problems. With the death of DJ being so personal to me, so close, it is only fair that whatever peace I might find has to come from the totality of the experience of our sharing our lives together and in that, only she and I could ever know how to go about it. Remembering how she looked in that white outfit, watching from across the room as she laughed at our daughter’s engagement party despite being gravely ill, making my own plate of food these days and thinking how she would remind me to get this or that item…thinking about the day of the diagnosis, the trips to the chemo center, the night tears we shared; bringing to mind the stark and revealing conversations which we had, those angry moments, those really bad days and of course those very good days…and nights; and yes, even those very last moments as I counted the seconds between her last breaths...the scattered pictures, the smiles left behind... I have to remember it all, for me it cannot be done piecemeal, every aspect which can be remembered has to brought into line, looked at squarely and at least an attempt at finding a safe place for it must be made; these are just some of the memories which once I feared were stalking me in attempt to lay me low, but which I now find can contain some measure of peace and even joy.
 My doorbell rang again, I answered it to find my porch and stairs nearly totally cleared of the snow. The young girl and her friend were standing there…waiting. Complimenting them on a “very good job”, I proceeded to grossly overpay them, but that was alright; remembering back, I can think of the times when I thought my brother and I were overpaid for some small job we had done. Perhaps one day these two youngsters will recall the Sunday morning they rang a doorbell and a memory was created for and by them, allowing them to complete some project they may have had in mind...or maybe just to feel good about earning their own money together on that day. All of us here know the power of memories and I would venture to say that now we now have a much greater appreciation of the effects they can have on our lives. Whereas at one time we may have dreaded, even feared them, today perhaps we can have the Hope that it does not have to be that way. Sometime back, I mentioned about HOW I was attempting to deal with DJ’s death, that is, with a bit of Honesty, Openness & Willingness, I posited at the time that this was merely my attempt to make some sense out of the seemingly senseless. For the most part I have been able to stick to those three ideas; it is not always pretty and easy is not a part of the equation, but I really didn’t expect it to be. What I hoped for was to find a way, by which to apply them, that would help me put some of the memories in safe places. In large part it appears to be working, like that memory of me and my brother, the memories of the life DJ and I shared tho coming fast a furious at times, no longer overwhelms me and actually come with the soothing knowledge that despite everything which has happened, life can move on, the days can have sunshine again, and the beauty of the night stars has not been lost. I Hope those struggling, now, today, can remember this.