GratingExpectations

-MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark All the sweet, green icing flowing down...Someone left the cake out in the rain, I don't think that I can take it, 'cause it took so long to bake it, And I'll never have that recipe again Oh, no!-

(chorus from 'MacArthur Park', written by Richard Harris)

It appears that there are many segments which make up this arc of grief which appears to span our entire universe. These segments are comprised of the various categories we find ourselves in when grief visits us. One of those is a group of us whose children are well grown, and who have been together for such a long time that when the time comes and one or the other dies, it seems we are left in some sort of limbo; I'm sure all of us who suffer through grief feel that way, that we are in limbo. My fears are, what is to be next? Consider that when moving forward very different objectives may be in mind. Those of us who have raised children, and pretty much put the duties of homemaking behind us have very different things in mind when we say going forward and 'making progress'; very diffrent obstacles to overcome; for sure, the pure pain of loss and depth of sadness is not any greater or worse that any other segments, just different. I am finding that the number one problem for me was my expectations of what this time would be like. This alone time.  Some may say "...there, there, you couldn't have known...", but this means very little to us who knew every damn thing; it seems the disappointment is greater for us.

With us having been done with the children raising and homemaking some time ago, DJ and I had gotten set in our routine of 'each other', I find my personal hell is missing that comfortable companionship more than anything else, of course grabbing her around the waist every now and then was not altogether a bad experience either, I miss the time we shared simply being in the same room with each other. I had not thought about the sheer loneliness and incredible emptiness one can feel, so I was not expecting it to be so painful or to give me so much trouble as I tried to decipher it in my mind. As I looked for something to help me in dealing with grief, I came across many sites and forums.  Most of them provided good sensible information and the forums exposed me to how others were dealing with the similar situation.  In reading hundreds of posts on the various forums, I across a variety of personal issues that commonly affect we who grieve, from dealing with belongings and experiencing the feelings of abandonment by family and friends to meeting new people and finding constant companionship. A lot of things I had no conception of have occurred and some of those things I thought I was so sure of have almost swept me overboard.

On the situation of family and friends, It appears that although in the immediate aftermath, most of them promised to be there, and were ready to do 'whatever' to help, in the end, these promises and offers were mostly lip service. In my own case, I heard the same things, but I didn't put much stock in them. The close friends Donna and I shared did what I needed them to do and that's really all I expected.  For those of us who feel let down by the failures of others to back up what they say, I can only offer this; Yes they made certain promises and offers, but really, did you expect them to keep them?  Other than the 2 or 3 people I really call friends, I did not.  It may be because I am cynical about most people anyway; this may be because me, at one critical point in my life had the to examine and detail my own character defects and shortcomings, and realized how often I came up lacking and understand a bit better our proclivity for procrastination. I am willing to believe that some of the let down we suffer is self inflicted, we expect something and when it doesn't happen, we are disappointed, that does not lessen our pain, but for me it explains a lot. I'm trying to remember that our normal conception of what friends are and how they should treat one another are, as many other previous concepts skewed by the loss we have suffered.

Grief can distort our perception of even the most common of things; triggering unbridled anger when I see another couple holding hands, spawning a fit of the most unreasonable jealousy as I watch two people share an affectionate moment, and bringing me to tears as memories of my own special times with DJ are thrown in my face by a thousand and one everyday interactions that I witness between couples, and long for them again for myself. This was not expected, I truly don't want to feel this way, but sometimes I do; I don't want to feel so empty and lost when I see signs of life and love all around me, but the loneliness is there. And for me, therein lies the rub, witnessing these things brings forth all these emotions, but at the same time I know that really, I simply want those things again for myself. The death of DJ affected me in a way I can expect no one else to understand or care about, other than family, and then too, some family might not get it either; I think it would be unreasonable for me to feel otherwise.  I did not experience the let down of folks not continuing to call, because I just didn't expect it.  Those arm-length acquaintances who now don't bother to call or come by, I try not to hold in contempt; I'm sure they don't know what to say, or are unsure about how to act when I'm around.  My point is that we may be setting ourselves up when we put the burdens of our expectations on others.  

This not only happens at times like this, but throughout life in general, but especially at a time like this we appear to be more sensitive to it.  As I go through grief I am striving to remember that most people don't want to think about death or dying, I rarely gave it more that a fleeting moment of my own time before this happened, other than when in war. Dealing not only with the thought of death of a loved one, but our own personal mortality is highly charged to say the least. Because of circumstance, we who suffer the loss are forced to deal with it. I can truly understand others not wanting to deal with it or their reluctance to be around those of us who have the need to, be they so-called friend or not.  What little energy I have left after agonizing over DJ's death, I don't want to spend on worrying about why, who didn't show up where, for whatever reason. I do understand that this is different for all of us and that we all have different expectations of our friends.

There is a friend of mine who a few years ago suffered the loss of his wife, and he has been a great help to me. I had not known what to really expect during this time, I am surprised by how accurate he has been in giving me some insights into the various emotions I have been having, and in what to be aware of as far the stages of grief go; in this, he has been a true rock. At the same time, in his own life he had been scrambling in a lot of ways; after many dates and short term relationships he remains unhappy. When we do get together, our talk inevitably turns to the deep loneliness he is still experiencing and how he has not been able to find true companionship. Almost each story about his attempts to develop a relationship end with "...but not like S------ would...",  S------, is his wife's name, and she was a very special person indeed. I hesitate to tell my friend that what he's expecting to find is not there. For all the things I don't know about grieving, I do believe this, the person we are missing cannot be replaced...the best we can hope for is to meet another person with those traits we admire, and appreciate them for their own uniqueness. The void that exists in us should be there, that person is gone, is missing; learning to live with the void has become an objective for me...learning to recognize that void without it causing such crippling pain, that is what I feel I must work towards.

It is not unreasonable for us to have reasonable expectations of ourselves, family, friends, and others, or even life itself; I believe it's part of our human nature to have these expectations, but for me, the word ''reasonable'' is all important. Just as this process has introduced us to many feelings and emotions we could never have dreamed of, it has probably affected those close to us in some way also. I think as we learn to be kinder and more gentler with ourselves, so, we must also be that way with those around us, especially those close to us.  I think this can help us to avoid a lot of wasted energy on negative thoughts and resentments towards others..I'm trying to be more aware of ''expectations that can grate''...it is part of my attempting to understand this entire process of grief and how it affects us, ''entirely''.

So, along with the many other things I am being taught about this process and it's effect on us, this idea of expectations goes into the toolbox also...to be called upon when the urge to cultivate a resentment strikes or when my penchant for wanting others to be the way I think they should be tries to take over. This may be a small thing in the lives of some others who are grieving, but for me, it's something I need to be aware of and remind myself about constantly, at least for a while. I think by doing this it will help me to move through the grief with a lot less ''bumps'' in the road, and I'm sure that we can all agree that, although we expect some bumps, the fewer, the better, and that in itself can be great. 

'' ...moving forward..''

TrynAdd

In the previous triad of blogs I have attempted to say a little about our kids, briefly, and recount some ot the memories that are coming forth as I travel our twisted road of grief.  It is only my attempt to share a small portion of what actually comes to mind as I try to unravel and reweave these threads into a pattern I can better recognize and live with. As I remember the children and DJ''s interaction with them I am finding it a comfort; the memories are returning without so much of the pain that once ran right along side them. DJ remains at the center of all of this, memories of her with them, with me, and with our entire family in general and how her passing has affected not only me, but our children and the rest of those close to us. The memories which in the very beginning of this journey, I could not seem to recall...and how that failure to recall sent me into even a further panic of the highest order, how when the shock and raw un-believability of it all was so new, and so fresh in my mind and all I could focus on was the 24 hours just gone by. With my mind being bombarded by so many feelings, so many emotions; I was so lost at those times, and scared, so scared that I had lost the the ability to call up these memories, that I am sure it may have affected my early attempts at real grief healing; perhaps it is part of the grieving, I don't know. Recently I have begun to see the fog lifting...to see clearer those things of the past DJ and I shared, both joyful, and one's' I'd just as soon forget.

My memories of her and the kids are some of the best, like those times when she would be dressing them for some event or family gathering; fussing, tugging, and patting to make sure everything was just so...the times when there were birthday plans to be made, with rooms to decorate and cakes to buy...or, talks with me about special gifts for one or all of them...how, even during some of the bleakest times we lived through, she would remind me that no child should ever miss Christmas, especially her children...how she beamed at each of their First Communions, graduations, and weddings. I could not remember a lot of this at first, but now I can and I am grateful for that and for the gifts she left me, tho the world may share them too...the journey, though still arduous is less exhausting to some extent now. At the start of all of this, I was told that many times, some of us who are grieving become trapped in the belief that we cannot be healed; that our loss is felt so deeply that we convince ourselves that we are to be relegated to grief hell for the rest of our lives; here, age, station in life, or religious affiliation does not matter, only the state of mind. I thought long and hard about that statement because in some respects that was the path I believe I was on.  Later, as I thought about all of this I realized that I couldn't get trapped there...not because it is not what DJ wants, it is not because it's not what the children may want, it is not because of what anything or anyone out side of myself wants, it's simply because ''I'' don't want to be trapped there.

As I have benefited from group interaction in other aspects of my life in the past, I did attend some group grief counseling, it was very helpful in allowing me to learn about some of the issue's faced by all who grieve and something about the process itself; I even tried a one on one session...once...right up until the moment the one sitting across from me decided that my grief was not quite enough, and attempted to insure I had ''other'' things I needed to deal with. Now, this may be true, but those other things were in my life before DJ died, and I had not went over the edge....yet...or felt the way this grieving has had me feeling.  I didn't think I needed someone else looking for things I might need to work on, my own notes are quite extensive on what my character defects are; I'm sure this counselor was an aberration, as I am sure there are many who do not have this approach; I do not read books on grief or attend seminars about it either; I neither disdain or disparage them, I simply do not do them. If pressed, I might say something like ''...seriously...?...I was there, I lived this shit, I don't need anyone or anything to tell me how I should feel or what I actually do feel...that is inside of me, and for me, the answers have to reside there also; it doesn't matter if the answers doesn't make sense to anyone else, they don't have to, they only need to make sense to me.  I did not dream it, it happened and I know it for a fact. Now if you have something to offer about me regaining what I have lost, I can listen, otherwise, thank you, no.''...that's only if I was pressed. Pills were suggested, but for me, this cannot be a consideration, I don't think that I tried to mask my life and love for DJ, I would feel as though I would be 'cheating' if I did not endure this, full force and completely, with all the attendant emotions, passion and pain, just as DJ and I tried to live; for me I have found that calling up what meager bits of integrity I have is a must in this. Now, tablets for enhancing the color spectrum, or to hear hidden messages in the music is another story; I do understand that many of us require medication and I have seen in my own family how it can help...I just choose not to use them. I am sure there are scores of people who swear by these and more; I am truly happy that they have found a means to help them survive this hell. I did not take it seriously when those I know said''anything I can do, let me know...''  or ''..I'll be in touch..'' , and I haven't heard from them since...those that didn't call or come around before, still don't, why should they?  To be around this grief? To have to consider their own demise?  Hell, I wouldn't be here had it not happened to me...I'm sure that I've said those very same things at one time or another and I know for a fact that I have not made one call either. Those friends who always did call and come by, still do. But I understood from the very beginning, I  would have get myself through this, it was never a question of ''if'' I would survive this, it always was and still is a matter of if I wanted to or not, and then, if I decided I wanted to, just what was required to do it. Some of the more difficult issues surrounding all of this I was able to put to rest once the initial shock began to wear off, other things I am attempting to work on now. But this is just what I think...just how I feel I have to approach this entire situation.

DJ's place in my life is secure, these things we shared and lived are in my heart (look closely, I am pointing at my head, not my chest...), they cannot be infringed upon by any external forces, be it my ability to share the rest of my life with someone else, remaining in the loop of ''why this all had to be'', or wishing my life away over something I know will never be, her return...of course this is just me, I can only say what I think...I believe the ability to respect and enjoy the uniqueness of another individual, even to the depths that I shared with DJ spanning 45 years cannot be ignored, not by me at least...despite what I see as a common myth, more than one ''A'' can be had in this class of life without denying the true validity of any of them,...without feeling disloyal to one, and a phoney to the others; on this lesson, school is not out, not just yet. It cannot be denied that there are considerations to be made, that adjustments have to be accounted for and that to a certain extent, a degree of selfishness is involved. But these things played a factor in my life before so it is only natural that it be the same now. This, for me is called ''living'', and if I choose to live through this period it cannot be with the dread that fear is waiting on the other side...the fear of living without DJ, the fear that the memory of her will be lost to me, the fear that I am no longer ''whole''; I am whole. It is true that I feel that something is missing, but I can identify it, I know what it is...that void should be there; DJ is gone. I have decided that it is better if I do not go on some Quixote-esque search for something to fill it...for sure that void causes some pain, and can trigger periods of profound sadness, but I think that is as it should be also; DJ being gone is painful, and I expect the background sadness will continue.  For me it has to be lived with, accepted and placed in the proper safe place. But It cannot be an impediment to me continuing to live. I think that for me to feel any other way, would be a concession to the notion that ''I cannot be healed'' and I just don't believe that. True, there is pain involved in all of this, and I think that is as it should be also, it reflects our understanding of just what has happened to us...it is the price we pay for deep love I am told, this....pain. 

So, as the memories continue to bombard me and cause swinging emotions and periods of sadness  and longing, I attempt to keep all of this in mind about this healing. I try to remind myself that I cannot wait for this to happen to me, this healing, in fact what has already ''happened'' to me is quite enough for a while; I am striving to make something happen though. Only time will tell if this exercise will be fully successful or not, or if I will find myself floundering, gasping for life breath as the waters of living recede...No, DJ would not want that, neither would the children but in the final breakdown, all of this is really not up to them...it is up to me.

''...just keep pedaling...''

Gift1

L-M-- is our only son and oldest child, being the first grandchild to DJ's parents did have it's advantages. Being born during the time I was overseas, my level of anticipation and anxiety at the thought of seeing him for the first time was somewhat overwhelming. Add to that the fact that I had not seen DJ for over 13 months, and the whole coming home thing was almost a recipe for PTSD in my case. Actually LM shares many firsts just as DJ's passing has introduced many new 'firsts' in our lives. I'm sure DJ thought she was doing me an honor by giving him my first name...or maybe she was thinking that I may not make it back and somehow it would keep my memory close to her...at any rate he has it. To lower confusion within the family it was decided to call him by his middle name L-M--...and it has worked, so far. But this naming business also lead to our first argument upon my return, with DJ saying she was the momma and liked it and me saying I had the name first, and he should have his ''own'' name, his own identity, so as not to be a ''jr'' and have the subconscious negative connotation that I think goes with that. The name remains the same so you can figure out who got the best of that ''discussion''. LM was the first male grandchild for either of our families and naturally he was spoiled rotten by the time I got home...it took a while, but he was soon brought under control...if control can be associated with a 6month child. Many people are taken aback when they learn that until the children were into their teenage years they called me by my first name...I never had a problem with it, when DJ attempted to correct them, and they told her I said it was o.k...our second major disagreement ensued.  This time I explained to her that I did not want them to ever mix me up with some idea of a TV ''Dad''; I was not Ward Clever, they needed to understand that the roles they saw being played on TV was just that, playing, just as I insisted they be allowed to have their own personalities, I should too had to be recognized for who I am, and that I took this kid raising business seriously, Ward Clever might give you a pass on some bs you pulled, but Fred, would keep it real with them. I won this arguement, and later, when I became ''Pop", "Dad", and in some cases ''father'', we would talk about this, the entire family, and laugh at those who thought it was odd...for us it was as natural as beathing.

You can imagine the fretting and fussing that went on around and about LM; DJ really began my education in loving our children with LM; I could tell just from watching them that there was something at work there and probably no mater how long I lived I would never quite understand it fully, but I knew it was something very special, something that even I had to tread carefully around. Once, when he was about 6 or 7, I remember him saying  to DJ, that he was never going to leave her...that he would always be there. Well, despite a stint in the service, marriage and 4 children of his own, and many other things, that something special lasted between the two of them; and I can say for a fact that it lasted at least until the end of one lifetime...right down to the very end; hours, minutes and final seconds, because I was there too. That is one promise that I do know he kept in a lifetime.

Through the early years LM grew as most young boys do, and since he was the only child for a full two years, the crimes he got away with are legend in the family. Of course DJ would make the rounds to various family members to show him off...sometimes I would be with her; I could always tell she never quite trusted anyone else with him too much ...ha...maybe that's the way of all young mothers. But she was a good mother to him and all our children, never failing to dispense the right amount of correction or affection at any given time, most of the time. When our first daughter, J---- was born, it was a favorite of her's to have almost monthly pictures taken of them, some individually and some with LM making his best attempts at holding J----. Today I remember those times as if they occured only last week, tho I really know how long ago that actually was...it was that one lifetime ago. After our second daughter LT was born, both DJ and I saw to it that LM understood that he held a special responsibility, being the 'big brother', and with few exceptions, he took the job very seriously...When our youngest started Kindergarten, LM was in 4th or 5th grade, and was responsible for making sure everyone got to and from school; the school itself was a straight shot on the bus...perhaps 8 blocks, and DJ had given the o.k. for them to rid the bus. The summer before school started that first time for riding the bus, I would take LM on the route, reminding him that his sisters should be in front of him, that they all should stay together within arms length, that nothing should separate them, and any failure by his sisters to follow his instructions should be reported to me.  At first it was just he and I, standing at the stop...talking...then climbing the stairs to the bus with me showing him the best seats to try and get, close to the driver, standing right behind him if necessary...when we would reach the school, there would be a crossing guard there, listen to her, and no one should get hit by a car; I would be waiting at the return stop when they came home. The main lesson was that three of them left the house, and three must return...if they were ever harassed by anyone while riding that bus, ''FIRE" was to be yelled by all three of them at the top of their lungs, they would get some attention, I had all three practice this too, I let him know that rarely do people respond to cries for ''help'', but fire appeared to draw everyone's attention.  We did this several times, riding the bus, just he and I, then it was the three children and I and finally for a few days a week at the end of the summer, it was him and the girls taking that bus ride. I had told him I trusted him to do what was needed, and really tried to act as if it was as natural as breathing, but of course I was worried, DJ was terrified. LM did what I had asked him to do, and all the children graduated from that same grammar school with very few incidents to report regarding their daily commute.

Now, as I remember the recent past, his pledge to ''never'' leave DJ came to mind. LM was living with us at the time of the diagnosis and was there at the end; he and I took turns that last nite and early morning as DJ's life slowly came to a halt. The previous day had been tortuous, with her breathing erratic and labored, together he and I suffered through that night with DJ, until the next morning, as steady shallow breaths returned. After the other family members had left for that day, most suspecting that the end was near, he and I stood in our kitchen and agreed that DJ probably wouldn't last the night. So, between he and I we kept the final watch. Again until just recently thinking of all of this would almost paralyze me...it was too unbelievable to grasp then, too unreal to be true; but it was and is true. As I watched him during those final hours, rubbing her hand and silently crying, wiping her face...every now and then, leaning over to gently hug her, I thought of all the times in years past when I had watched them together, when it was DJ doing the rubbing, face, hair, whatever...I remember consciously thinking that I needed to remember all those times and how they all led to here and to now, and how I would need to remember this time also; DJ's gift to us, bearing the return of genuine love and caring when she needed it the most, and LM needing it also.

Now the memory of all of this can be dealt with; it can be put in that safe place and recalled without fear of the devastating pain that once accompanied it. And that really is the point of this entire exercise for me; to be able to have the memories that will surely come and not have the thought of those times send me reeling into the pain and despair that grief offers. It appears to be happening for me, but I am not sure. There are more memories to process and although some have been put to rest, I do not know if that will hold true for all of them. We shall see. I have come to believe that only, that one thing which we have all come to loathe in one way or another will tell, and that is time.

Ahead...

gifft2

Of the many gifts that graced our life, the children would have to be the greatest of them all.  Beyond any material gains the world might offer as goals or gains, they were Donnas’ driving force for most of her life. I know nearly all parents place their children in the forefront and Donna was no exception.  We didn’t really have any idea of what we were doing at first, raising them I mean, and many times we argued about just what was the best way to deal with any particular situation; many times we disagreed, but over time we developed some common ground that allowed us to bring three children to adulthood.

I know Donna is proud of them, she told me so, although at times it was difficult for her to express that to them, at least in some of the ways they might want her to.  I’m proud of them too, but the pride she felt stems from something that only a mother can appreciate, especially over these last 4 years.  She agonized about how her being gone would affect them, would they be alright, just how they would make it.  I believe that was one of her greatest fears.   I tried to reassure her but I’m not sure it did any good.  How could it?  She knew she would be leaving our hopes for them, leaving our dreams, and, at times, our very reason to do many of the things we did in this life.  It must have been hard, in fact I know it was but there wasn't much I could do about it at that point.  I can only imagine the fear and anxiety she must have felt, the fear of how this was affecting them and would affect them later. The anxiety and sorrow, that her children were going to be in a world of hurt and there wasn't a damn thing she or I could do to prevent it. She made me promise to look after them, and of course I will, but I have no idea how I will do it alone, I have no experience at it; this has always been a two party exercise.   But as I say, she’s proud of them, proud of the way they responded to the illness.  Proud of the way they wanted to be there every second to do whatever needed to be done. I have come to better understand the true importance of these gifts, these children, to both Donna and myself, how, in a huge way they helped to define her and give her life purpose, although not her only purpose; I do know them being there gave her comfort in the end.

As for the children themselves...well of course each has their own special personality traits and are loved by us for them, and in some instances, in spite of them; they are cherished simply because of the fact that they are the direct results of DJ's and I physical expressions for each other...these 'kids' were well into adulthood when we got the diagnosis, yet DJ and I continue to call them 'the kids'...which I guess a lot of parents do...some things just never change. I had a lot of time to be with them in their early years tho, as I kept them during the day while DJ worked, and she took over while I went to school at night.  Our son still lives in our house with me, my oldest daughter lives across the street from us, and our youngest married daughter lives across town, about 20 miles away...I have come to believe, that some force in the universe knows where to put each of us to best serve, believe me, the 20 mile thing is not that bad...I have asked each of them if It was o.k. if I mention them here, only a bit in depth, and they have said yes...of course I may have done it anyway, without their permission...

J---- is our oldest daughter, although not the oldest child...that position is held by our son, but she is the middle child. I don't think I had ever heard of the so-called 'middle child thing' until I was well into adulthood, even tho in my own, blended family, on my side, I am, in the biological sense the middle child.  My own relationship with J---- has always been superior, with me being told it's a 'daughter/father' thing; again, I don't know much about these things or where they spring from. What I do know is that back when the children were first learning to ride bikes and it was up to me to show them how, that then, the young, 7-8 year old J---- impressed the hell out of me, of course for a parent, it doesn't take too much...

 Our son already knew how to ride, and our youngest daughter's bike had come with training wheels; J----'s bike had not; DJ was scheduled to bring a pair home that very evening when she got off from work. Still, I had figured we could go riding, the last bike had arrived; the kids had waited so long (to them) to do this, waited because the last bike was late in arriving, and I had said we should wait until everyone had their's before we went riding.  There was a parking lot near our house which had what seemed like acres of flat, smooth blacktop, with only a scattering of light posts and other bicycle magnets. It was a popular bike riding spot, as the factory it once served was now closed. As we got there and the other two kids went about riding, I took to the task of explaining to J---- about the best approach to riding, she being a first timer, had never rode or tried to ride a bike before.  It was her first 'big kids' bike, a flashy Purple one, a white basket strapped to the handlebars, and purple and white tassels flowing from the handle grips, I delighted in seeing her eyes light up as she had gone over it again and again as it sat in the hallway of our apartment, sometimes sitting on it as it leaned against the wall, imagining herself riding no doubt;  and I'm sure it was a challenge for her, the thought of trying to ride it.  But as I stood in front of her now, my hands holding the handlebars, balancing the bike with legs straddling the front wheel, she looked right in my face as I talked. First I told her to look around at all the other kids riding and having fun, I assured her she could do the same...I said, quietly and confidently as I could,

"...Listen J----, when you and other kids first try to ride, it's natural that you want to look down at your feet. What happens then is since you're not looking where you're going, you usually fall over...but, if you can keep looking straight ahead and concentrate on steering, you be riding all by yourself in a little while; now, believe me, I know this works. Just remember, you know where your feet are, you know what they are doing, you don't have to keep watching them, all you have to do is keep pedaling and don't stop, look where you're going, and steer, you already know how to hit the brakes, right....?...now trust me..this will work...."

I moved to one side of the bike, took up the classic launching stance and asked if she was ready, she said yes...I pushed her off yelling "...keep pedaling J----, just look where you're going...keep pedaling, don't look down"  well, she did keep pedaling and kept looking where she was going too, I followed for a few yards, to let her know I was there, then realized she was speeding away from me, I stopped and watched her, watched as for the most part of the next hour that kid never stopped riding...just kept pedaling, pedaling and steering. I took up a seat and watched as all three of our children took turns playing  'follow the leader' around that huge blacktop lot. Now, in the annals of world events, this is a very minor accomplishment, but remembering my own first time trying to learn how to ride, and remembering the joy I had when I finally mastered it, I knew how important it is to a kid; I was impressed, and I made sure J---- knew just how impressed I was.  I think the entire episode has something to do with our relationship today, I do know this, that although I'm sure this has happened to other parents and kids, in other blacktop lots, this riding like that the very first time out, I have not seen or been told of it, not like the way J---- did that day; but I saw it then, and as I say, I was Impressed; I had been back from the war for some time when this occurred, and that had been the last time I had really been impressed by anything or anyone, DJ not included here, she always impressed me; in the war it had been by a small skinny guy like myself, wearing black pajamas, he had a sock full of rice strapped across his back and a rifle in his hands, usually he was shouting "Yankee Go Home...". I had been impressed by him alright, but now, J---- had impressed me even more.  

I heard once that the bond between a mother and a child stems in large part due to their once physical connection and that the father comes to love and bond with that child through the eyes and actions of the mother.  I don’t know if it’s really true but it does makes sense to me.  That idea has been reinforced because of our current journey.  Over those four years as DJ and I talked, sometimes I would mention this to her and remind her that in loving them, she was also showing me how to love.  We shared a lot of things and taught each other a lot throughout our lives, but this is one of the greatest things I learned from her.  This entire process of sharing with those whom we love and may soon be without, exposes the many intricate details of our relationships if we are prepared to be honest, really honest.  Of course, friends grieve and mourn the passing of people they know and have developed relationships with, but naturally, within the family it’s different.  Consider this:  all of us in the immediate family feel that general sense of loss and sadness, it’s a natural consequence of the situation, but even more, there is the individual special relationships among those family members and the special pain related to that particular relationship; in our case there’s mother to daughters, mother to son, wife to husband, sibling to sibling, Donna to her mother, you get the idea…the sense of loss seems to be so different sometimes for each in many respects, yet so common among us all, and, in the final analysis, no less painful for any of us. 

 This struck me hard, it made me realize that yes, my wife, my partner was leaving, and my reaction to that is from one point of view, that of a long time friend and husband.  But my son and daughters were losing their MOTHER…think about that, losing your mother. A special kind of hell has to come along with that.  I spent my entire childhood and adult life knowing my dad, and I do remember how I felt when he passed, but here we’re talking about your mother, moms, ‘madea’.  That’s totally different and I have attempted to approach and relate to them with this in mind. My own mother died when I was I was 5 or so, my memory of her is somewhat fuzzy, I don’t remember enough to have the deep emotional attachments that develop over a long period of time between a mother and child as did our children. I have to remember that although our pain on one level is similar, on another level it is specific to each of them in relation to losing DJ. I think somehow it ties to my main thought, that despite the hurt, pain and uncertainty, they are enduring and she is proud of them, these gifts she has left me.  Think of the joy you feel when you know your own mother is proud of you, Perhaps knowing this will help ease their pain, some, again, I really don't know; I do know that I am doing all I can to insure they truly understand just how precious they are to DJ.

As I stated in a previous post, this record is about me trying to come to terms with what has happened, losing DJ, and now, not losing my mind.  An effort to make sense out of the most devastating thing that has happened in my life, so far. Both the children and myself are slowly coming to accept this new reality, but only because we have to.  My own thoughts are beginning to become more organized around the new situation, but I don’t like it and I know the kids don’t either; And I don't need permission from anyone to say that. 

Gift3

When L-T---, our third and youngest daughter was born, we thought we were really ready; I was almost done with school, we had actually planned for her and we were not under threat from any creditors. We were barely 25 and after two previous children we figured we had things pretty much under control as far as handling babies and understanding how to bring up children goes. I knew LT was a bit different when she was first brought home...the oversized bonnet she was wearing would prove not to be too large for long. She actually turned the home routine upside down...early on she displayed what would be a continuing tendency throughout her life, getting her own way.  It may have been because she was the new baby of the family and it had been two years since that had been the case in our house...it may have been because the four of us fawned over her so much, whatever the true reason it is safe to say, she got her own way most of the time...

At this time DJ was still working days, with me running the house during those hours and going to school at night. This was somewhat of a novel idea at the time, the father during the housekeeping duties, but I wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world. For the most part, I had the opportunity to watch all my children grow up in that newborn to 4 years age range for at least eight hours a day and learned many things during that time. DJ had versed me in the foibles of small children and I thought I had a pretty good grasp of things like, sugar free treats, nap times, rashes, bored babies and fevers...the latter I was told could be detected from more than one orifice of the body...never knew that til then...though I'm sure the children probably wished I had been kept ignorant, at least of that last one. LT proved to be a handful for me,her refusing to adhere to designated nap and feeding times being only the start. To get attention it was her usual practice to eject the bottle from her crib and then look wide eyed to see who would do the honors of retrieving it...usually me. This really disrupted the daily nap time so I decided to end her practice of this by tying the bottle to one of the crib uprights with a length of heavy string...bad idea...at nap time the very first instance I did that, I had barely dozed when visions of her laying there with the string wrapped around her neck appeared to me...string was removed and I resorted to disapproving faces and strong reprimands...all to no avail. I do know this much, when DJ was around this never happened. By watching DJ interact with her and see the pure delight she derived from that child, I soon let go of the resentment I had regarding the whole bottle thing and life moved on. Sometimes when DJ had an off day during the week, while the older kids were in school, the three of us would take outings...proud young parents with their offspring...those memories are returning to me now.  

As LT grew older I began to notice some slightly disturbing things about her personality, tho only three or four at the time, she displayed stubbornness beyond her years...she came to exhibit a certain contrary-ness that I did not think would not serve her well later in life and made attempts to adjust that particular aspect...she naturally resisted...but I also found her to be extremely honest and fiercely loyal. Finally after discussing some of this with DJ, she pointed out to me that all I was seeing was a reflection of myself. DJ said she had seen those things long ago and too bad I was late to the party...I think she drew great pleasure from informing me of this. I had noticed  the subtle kindness and downright honest humor she had obviously inherited from DJ, but those things? Me?...Around this time, I was almost done with school, and DJ and I were about to switch roles, with me taking a full time job during the day. It was the beginning of summer and we were making plans to move to a larger apartment. During the day LT and I would go to the new apartment and make some repair and updates that were needed before we could move in; DJ and I had made arrangements with the owner to do this in return for some rent free months; actually we had made a pretty good deal. This particular day as I went about doing various tasks and LT explored what was to be our new home, I began to replace a damaged section of Oak flooring which a radiator, over the years had stained, badly. LT came over to where I was, as I removed the last of the bad pieces and I noticed a glint off of something wedged between some sub-floor boards; using a screwdriver I pried a dingy and discolored Quarter out. As LT was squatting there next to me, I wiped it lightly against my pants leg and held it our to her. She looked at me, then down at the coin and then back into my face...oh, I got the message; I stood up and motioned for her to follow me, and we went to the kitchen where I had been boiling water for some paint brushes I needed to soften. I plunked the Quarter in the pot, and we returned to what we were doing. Later, after she watched me retrieve the coin, clean and scour it lightly with some steel wool, she accepted it when I offered it again. That evening when I conveyed the story to DJ, she laughed and said simply, ''...hell, that's your princess...''... Many years later when we would be sitting around the table after Sunday dinner, she would recount that day...over the years, I had thought she had forgotten all about it.

There were other things LT did to express her ideas on the way things should be; after graduating from high school she had decided to work for a year to buy a car before leaving for college...DJ and I had offered to help her buy a used one, with my suggestion being, given her temperament, a 1958 Chrysler 4 door, (this was around 1992) but she thought not. She said she wanted a one that was  brand new...oh well, I tried. The 18 worked the entire year and bought that car. Of course it had every problem under the sun...it really did. So the 'to the dealer and back' shuttle began, but it didn't last long, after about the third time and numerous call to dealers, and the manufacturer, LT simply stopped paying for the car...she stopped driving it and it sat in back of where we lived for a while. It did no good for me to try and explain the separation of finance company and car dealer...to her it was simple proposition...she bought the item...it didn't work...she wasn't paying for the item.  Of course the car was repossessed and there followed calls to a lawyer friend, the manufacturer and the Lemon Law folks...Within a very short time, LT had another brand new car, no mark against her credit record, and year's free oil and lube service from some local dealer. 

DJ knew a lot of things I had no ideas about and I think she really relished doling that knowledge out to me, many times only after I had reached the point of exasperation about some given situation.  I never held that against her, I think I loved her even more for being that way...and she knew about this; all along she had been saying ''...I feel sorry for them...''. 

As I recall these memories now, as they begin to come back to me in a form I can recognize and deal with It only deepens my love and respect for DJ...that I can recall them and actually realize the pain is not so great anymore makes all this even better. Not only did she leave me the legacy of our love, these children, these gifts that DJ left me are providing me with the calming knowledge that I can feel that she is still with me in a more tangible way. For that I will be forever humble and properly grateful. 

Ms.McKoKo&HerColaBuddy

 Our oldest daughter, J---- had moved back home with us during the year before DJ had been diagnosed, it wasn't a big deal or anything, the moving back in; we had always told our kids that as long as we had a place to live, they had a place; financial, or marital status being no barrier to them being always welcomed back.

My own folks had stressed this with me and my siblings, and DJ and I tried to carry it forward.  I can never forget the peace it gave me as I ventured out in life and tried to establish just what was required to make it in this world, and DJ and I had actually lived with my parents for a period early on.  The only real stipulation we had was that a couple of basic rules should be followed and no TV's or other household items could come up missing. The exact reasons for her moving back was  never discussed, inquired about or encouraged to be brought forward by us; she wanted to come home and she wasn't a fugitive, 'nuff said; although a very clear picture of the reason would emerge soon after she did move back in.  Aside from some residual things like the 'mother/daughter' syndrome (something which, although, I witnessed first hand many times, I have come to place with the Bermuda Triangle, how 3 in 1 oil really works, and the mystery of The Immaculate Conception; things which I can never understand, and which, for my own sanity, I am better off not probing into too much. Here, ignorance is truly bliss), we all got along really well.

By the time J---- moved back in with us, she had given birth to her daughter, and our 5th Grandchild. Among the names I use for this grandchild, and one which is my favorite, is "Ms. McKoKo", with the Ms. being quite appropriate as time would soon bear out over the next four years, and McKoKo rhyming with her given name. Ms. McKoKo was about 18mos old at this time and really getting around pretty well as I remember...for a while DJ watched her during the day as her mother worked, so they became fast friends. Even after the diagnosis, when DJ was still very active, it would be McKoKo and DJ doing something together.  I'm really glad that DJ had those times and that opportunity; we would talk about it sometimes and she would say this was one of the toughest things for her...knowing that she would not be there for this or that, when Ms. McKoKo did it, or how she was going to miss her graduating from Kindergarten, Grammar school and the rest. It was at these times that we were exposed to the full horror of the helplessness we were involved with, the true impact of what was occurring would come to us, full force, straight, no chaser. But she and Ms. McKoKo did spend a lot of time together, DJ normally didn't drive a lot although she could drive and did up until the last three months. But she would drive for Ms. McKoKo...they were running buddies.

Ms. McKoKo came to love dark cola, probably because DJ and I never passed up the opportunity to give it to her when she asked...finally J---- said, ''...look, I really don't want her to have all that sugar and stuff guys, help me out here...''.  I had no problem telling Ms. McKoKo no, when she would say ''sip please'' indicating she wanted a sip of the soda from the straw that usually stood in the can; I would offer one of the alternative pure fruit juices we had laid in order to replace the soda, and to avoid having Ms. McKoKo hear the word 'no'. It had been established long ago in our house by DJ and I that the word no was used sparingly; we figured the kids would hear that often enough in their lives and we didn't need to breed it in any more than necessary; there were always alternatives...there was always an 'or', not always what they wanted, but not just not so many 'no's'.  Anyway, as I say, I was going along with the program, but DJ just couldn't resist acceding to Ms. McKoKo wishes for a ''sip please''.  So it became somewhat of a game...Ms. McKoKo asking when her mother was not in sight, and DJ letting her, saying ''small sip only''...after a couple of those, DJ would finally say ''...no, you've had enough...'', and things would move on. But this small act between them only enhanced what was already a 'great relationship' and it was fun to watch.

During the last few weeks of her life, DJ might be laying in the bed, Ms. McKoKo would join her there, rubbing her stomach or some other part of DJ's body that might be hurting...or just lay there with her; by now Ms. McKoKo was a good 4 years old, with her next birthday only a few months away. Their relationship continued to be great and I am so glad that it was able to give DJ so much joy at such a painful time in her life. Coming in from work, I would find them laying in the bed, or on the lounger, Ms. McKoKo  'reading' to DJ, and insisting that she listen to every word; DJ might say ''...I don't like this class, the teacher is not so nice...''.  Of course any of the animated movie series that happened to be out, they would watch together...now that I think about it, the cartoon movies didn't have to be current...I can probably do all the parts to Shrek, and I have not seen the entire movie in one sitting, not once.  Or they might be in the back yard working in the small area DJ had set aside to plant herbs in.  Many times I have come home, found the back door open and have seen those two out there, at the far end of the yard involved in some plot to insure the growth of those small plants; I wouldn't be noticed and I would sit on the top step of the stairs leading to the yard and watch them, and sometimes cry silently...

As the end approached, Ms. McKoKo was right there, right with us for everything, with as much of what we could explain being told to her every step of the way.  She understood grandma was sick, she understood that grandma needed her medicine; it was a favorite of theirs for DJ to ask Ms. McKoKo to ''...get my legs, girl...'', meaning the cane with four small feet at the bottom.  Ms. McKoKo was always there,always ready to help DJ anyway she could.  Sometimes it was the  pillbox marked with the days of the week, or a bottle of water filled from the fountain we had from a water service, because DJ had come to crave very cold water. These things and all the others they shared, bonded them in a way that is not necessary for me to understand, but only to remember and enjoy.  J---- and I had talked, and she had said that Ms. McKoKo had to be there, throughout, if she wanted to...I had agreed, but J---- had brought the subject up.  So it was. During the last three days of her life, barely recognizing any of us, DJ laid there, sometimes seeming to be aware, at others appearing to fade further and further from us.  Ms. McKoKo was right there next to her...rubbing her arms or putting lotion on her legs; that was her primary job at this time of the illness...once, she put so much lotion on them that they looked liked chrome baseball bats, we all had a good laugh, that was one of DJ's last real laughs that I would swear by. On the last day, all day, Ms. McKoKo was there, doing what she had come to do...lay next to DJ and rub...rub whatever.  I cannot say what she was thinking, she is only 5, and asking her wouldn't be fair, at least I don't think so...that night as she had done on so many previous nights before going to bed, Ms. McKoKo hugged DJ and said ''Love you grandma, gonna' say a prayer for you...''.  I'm not sure DJ heard her, or recognized any of us by then, but I want to believe she did. DJ died very early that next morning, too early for anyone to be awakened, but I was there; I wanted until the usual get up time and stopped J---- as she came out of the back bedroom; I told her...she went and woke Ms. McKoKo, and together they both went into our bedroom and sat with DJ for a while...As I sat at our dining room table, I could hear J----'s voice, speaking low to Ms. McKoKo between semi stifled sobs. Surprisingly, when J---- opened the door to the bed room and I went in, Ms. McKoKo was not in the uncontrollable state I had expected...she was laying on the lounger with her head on DJ's chest...as I say, she was there for everything. We thought it was fitting, both of them, the two buddies, lying there together; that picture, capturing this time, along with so may others will be in my mind until I no longer have one.  Ms. McKoKo was also there for what followed, no need to detail that here, we all know what happened next...J----  had decided that seeing the lowering was not the image Ms. McKoKo needed to have in her mind for the rest of her life, to not have that as a last memory, so she sat in the car with J---- and myself...we too had decided not to have that image...we already had our own picture of seeing DJ for the last time in our minds. I'm glad Ms. McKoKo can have the image of being with her ''grandma'', on grandma's lounger, in grandma's bedroom in front of the TV that she and grandma enjoyed so many other fun images on, and listening to the music they loved to share. I like that picture myself, the picture of her laying on the lounger with her ColaBuddy one last time.

Pax

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“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go, you go), my dear…” -eecummings

25-Exit, Stages...right?

As I researched this grief business (and believe me, it is a business), one of the first things I came across are the so-call ‘stages of grief’.  Some say there are 5 stages some say there are 7, I’m going with 5; that’s enough for anyone, and way too many for some.  Although they are listed in numbered order, it is said, (and I am living proof) that they do not come to individuals in any specific order.  Take a look:

                   1. Denial- First reaction to the crisis, rationalization, a defense mechanism to shock

2. Anger- The intense emotion is deflected from our vulnerable core, redirected and expressed instead as anger. The anger may be aimed at inanimate objects, complete strangers, friends or family. Anger may be directed at our dying or deceased loved one

                                     

3. Bargaining- The normal reaction to feelings of helplessness and vulnerability is often a need to regain control–

                                     

4. Depression- Two types of depression are associated with mourning. The first one is a reaction to practical implications relating to the loss. Sadness and regret predominate this type of depression. We worry about the costs and burial. We worry that, in our grief, we have spent less time with others that depend on us

                                     

5. Acceptance- Reaching this stage of mourning is a gift not afforded to everyone. Death may be sudden and unexpected or we may never see beyond our anger or denial. It is not necessarily a mark of bravery to resist the inevitable and to deny ourselves the opportunity to make our peace. This phase is marked by withdrawal and calm. This is not a period of happiness and must be distinguished from depression

That’s a real menu of pain as far as I’m concerned (menu of pain, I’ll have to remember that line…).  Now, I’m sure some very smart people spent a lot of time coming to these conclusions; no doubt many a study was made and I don’t doubt the validity of them.  I’m listing these here only as a reference to gauge my own experience.  It is said that these may not come to any one person in any particular order and they may occur more than once during the process. Some folks may go through all of them, some, only a few, it is different for each person.  I can only speak of the items that I can truly say I’ve dealt with or have at least had some personal measure of.  First to Denial, I don’t think that happened to me, when we received the diagnosis it was to real to deny.  In front of us stood a real doctor telling us about a real disease that had real consequences and laying out a prognosis that could lead you to any or all of the next 4 items on the list.  My personality dictates that I face things as they are, no sugar coating, no Vaseline…so I couldn’t deny what I was hearing or the implications that came along with it.  I believe it was the same for Donna; we never denied the situation that faced us.  Our main concern at that point was how do we deal with it, where do we go from here.   

Through all of our conversations from that point on, I can honestly say denial did not become an issue.  We didn’t have time for denial.

As time passed and the illness became part of our everyday life (that sounds terrible…), we tried to face the various questions that arose with honesty.  Donna: ‘what about my car…’, Me: ‘don’t worry ‘bout it’.  Donna: ‘what about the house…’, Me: don’t worry ‘bout it’.  Donna: ‘what about__________(fill in the blank)’ Me: ‘don’t worry ‘bout it’.  I was not being flip or disregarding the practical aspects of our life, I meant really, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it’.  With what we were facing, the everyday considerations fell to the bottom of the list of priorities.  What I wanted her to do was to concentrate on herself, period.  Those other things would be taken care of.  I wanted her to know that from this point on, it was all about her.  I needed for her to know this.  Now, her personality was that of a nurturer, she had always been the one to take care of everyone else, so mainly thinking of herself first was unnatural to her.   I on the other hand, having much experience at being selfish, tried to give her pointers, tried to help her understand that the time had come for her to consider herself, first.  

Gradually some of the pointers took hold and a slight personality change occurred in her, I like to think it helped her to carry on for as long as she did.  It’s not that she became a selfish person, that wasn’t in her nature, but I think she did get the message that as we went through this, she was responsible for how she felt, she had some control on how this illness could affect her.  The illness was going to do what it was going to do, our control of that was limited, but how we handled it, was up to us, up to her.  We didn’t have time to wallow in denial, we had to live the best way we could for whatever time we had, and we believed that we could only do that by facing head on what was in front of us.


As I’ve mentioned before, up until the last month, Donna did just about anything she wanted to.  I did all I could to ease the mental stress I knew she must be going through, and I think I helped.  At one point she said ‘ I don’t mind leaving, it’s just that I hate leaving you and the kids…’, I told her that I would go with her; when she realized I was serious, she was horrified, who would take care of the kids (mind you, these ‘kids’ are well into adulthood), the grandchildren would have no ‘grandma’ or ‘grandpa’, no, she didn’t want me to come with her…again, her nature, thinking of others first.  I'll be honest, the kids and grandchildren, and anything else never crossed my mind when I made that statement.  My concern was what she wanted and if she would have said yes, come with me, I would not be struggling with these words now...but she was too caring and unselfish to have me go with her.  

No, there was no denial for us and I’m glad we did it the way we did.  It allowed us live out in the open, no mistaken glances, or undercurrents of BS.  So too in this grief, there can be no denial for me;  I have to face each and every emotional obstacle head on.  I cannot deny the pain that goes with the sense of loss, I cannot deny the fear of facing the future without her, I cannot deny the fact that no amount of wishing and hoping, no amount of  anger, none of my attempts at  bargaining, no degree of depression or acceptance will make happen what I want to happen: to have her back and healthy.  Just ain’t gonna’ happen. I think for the time being I’ll pass on the next four stages. I'm too angry to bargain with depression or acceptance, I may have to revisit them at a future date, but for now I’ll let them rest. 

What I know to be true is that I miss my baby and always will; learning to blend my ‘old life’ with the ‘new life’ is the greatest challenge I have ever faced, that focusing on having memories without the pain has to become an integral part of my life; those are the facts that I can’t deny...

.

Pax

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“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go, you go), my dear…” -eecummings