It's been a couple of weeks since I've written, not that I haven't thought about it, or thought about you as I do everyday through-out the day but life has been busy. My mother's here now which has been really good - to be honest I wasn't sure what it would be like but she's been a peaceful and calming presence and I've really appreciated her being here. She's also been fantastic with all the plants - in doors and out - you'd be really happy with all that she's done from cutting away all the dead and yellow leaves, fertilising (it was so funny when she suggested it - hadn't even occurred to me), transplanting plants that had overgrown their pots as well as putting new plants into empty pots or replacing those that weren't doing so well. It's all looking much better although there's still heaps to do - the whole south side needs a good once over and a really good prune. Plus the hibiscus are in desparate need of a cut back and I'd still like to give the front of the place a bit of a facelift as well. One thing at a time...
We've also had a lot of guests in over the last few weeks so I've been checking in people, making sure that all is okay, and of course having the occasional chats. Everyone has given really positive feedback both during their stays and when they are leaving - I've been trying to ensure that I chat with everyone on the day of their departure and say thank-you. We've had another nice Trip Advisor review - not exactly sure from who this time around and am hoping we'll have another one as one of the ones that left yesterday said they were users of Trip Advisor (found us there actually) and would definitely give us one, so we'll see.
I had three rooms to clean yesterday... lots of work! Didn't quite finish Unit 4 as I didn't get started until early afternoon. Mom and I went and played golf with Rhonda yesterday - 3 holes. It was kinda fun, and frustrating... not sure if it's the sport for me but I suppose it's worth considering, so many people seem to play. Anyway, it made for a long day on my feet yesterday - good exercise - and just didn't quite finish all the cleaning. Although in between things Ethan replaced the starter on the large flourescent bulb in Unit 3's bathroom - you would have been proud of him (I was) firstly figuring out what the problem was and then secondly finding where the new starters were (after I had looked and hadn't found them). Unfortunately, after that I still had to get on him for doing the 'bare minimum' and being more focused on Facebook and xBox then taking care of things that needed to be taken care of - very frustrating! I totally understand how you would get so frustrated and angry with him... and I do too, although I probably don't raise my voice quite as loud as you did. I don't know if it's just 'normal teenage boy' attitude or something deeper, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's just age and that he'll get more 'with it' as he matures - Nahele has... I also got distracted from cleaning when Ethan was trying to fix the fence (from taking the turn into the extra carpark too quickly and swiping the end board - did a bit of damage to the board and about a $1000 worth to the car that he now has to pay for). Anyway, we were trying to find a hand saw as neither one of us were too keen on trying to use one of your electric saws and couldn't find it - I know you have one, but where??? I'll try looking in the boxes under the shed bench today and see if I have any luck, otherwise Ethan will go over to Hin's to see if he has a saw or we'll wait until James comes around.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
3 weeks
It's 3 weeks since your passing... my moods and emotions swing up and down and I suppose you could say that I'm settling into some kinds of balance.
I decided to have some of your ashes put into a small urn that I can keep - I know it seems odd and I never thought I'd be someone to keep your ashes in an urn, but it is small and it can sit at my bedside without seeming to overwhelming. It's quite a heavy little urn - some type of stone or marble and really it's small enough that I don't suppose there's a lot of your ashes in it (the Funeral home people did that so I don't really know how much goes in) but it's more the symbolism of it really. I like it, and I'm glad I decided to do it...
The rest of your ashes have been divided into two lots - one lot to be spread here in Mission Beach. I'm thinking in the ocean one day, but not sure when. Definitely don't feel ready to do that at the moment - perhaps on your Birthday? and the other lot we'll take back to Hawaii with us and spread them in the ocean there. I thought I'd feel a bit funny (not in the haha sense) when I went to pick 'you' up or even in having your ashes here, but I don't. I carried them in as much of a 'hug' as I could and it was okay, and having them here isn't really weird at all, although I certainly wish it was you in health and flesh and blood instead!
Sleeping on my own is still very strange and I miss your presence and warmth in our bed. Sherri got me one of those long body pillows, which is great but of course a poor substitute for you. I've been sleeping okay (for the most part) but have had some strange dreams - for a couple of nights I was having dreams of you leaving me - the first one you left me for another woman which of course was very distressing to me in my dream and even left me feeling a bit unsettled in the morning and in the other one you just left me. I guess they are manifestations of how I'm feeling - that you've left me. I know you didn't want to, and that you didn't 'leave me' on purpose, but it's a funny feeling nonetheless.
I keep thinking - 'shit happens', death is part of the cycle of life, when it's your time, it's your time, and that we did everything that we knew to do, and that it's not up to me - I don't want to become bitter about your passing or spend my time bemoaning my loss of you. I understand that it's all part of the cycle and journey that each of us is on. Lately I've been thinking and feeling grateful for the nearly 25 years that our journeys coincided - I think we were both very good for each other in so many ways. You taught me (or maybe just helped me develop) strength, and determination (although I must have had some of that already) and consistency, and I think I helped you feel and be loved, and helped you mellow.
In looking back I'm really very sorry for my inconsistent behaviours - and the fights that we had because I wanted more from you then you were able to give. I never doubted your love, and in reflecting back I can see all that you did and were, were so much because of your love for me - and that's what you always said didn't you. I'm sorry that it was hard for me to accept the 'I'm here, aren't I?' reply to my 'Do you love me?' questions - I guess I just wanted the movie/story book romances that we 'girls' always seem to want.
I know you loved (love) me - I know that if you could have stayed with me, you would have... and for the number of times that I wondered (and if I'm honest, probably wished) that I was on my own, I so, so take it back now. I'm sure that I would rather spend our lives together settling into our older years, mellowing and beginning to 'find ourselves' again than what I am looking at now in figuring all this out on my own...
I decided to have some of your ashes put into a small urn that I can keep - I know it seems odd and I never thought I'd be someone to keep your ashes in an urn, but it is small and it can sit at my bedside without seeming to overwhelming. It's quite a heavy little urn - some type of stone or marble and really it's small enough that I don't suppose there's a lot of your ashes in it (the Funeral home people did that so I don't really know how much goes in) but it's more the symbolism of it really. I like it, and I'm glad I decided to do it...
The rest of your ashes have been divided into two lots - one lot to be spread here in Mission Beach. I'm thinking in the ocean one day, but not sure when. Definitely don't feel ready to do that at the moment - perhaps on your Birthday? and the other lot we'll take back to Hawaii with us and spread them in the ocean there. I thought I'd feel a bit funny (not in the haha sense) when I went to pick 'you' up or even in having your ashes here, but I don't. I carried them in as much of a 'hug' as I could and it was okay, and having them here isn't really weird at all, although I certainly wish it was you in health and flesh and blood instead!
Sleeping on my own is still very strange and I miss your presence and warmth in our bed. Sherri got me one of those long body pillows, which is great but of course a poor substitute for you. I've been sleeping okay (for the most part) but have had some strange dreams - for a couple of nights I was having dreams of you leaving me - the first one you left me for another woman which of course was very distressing to me in my dream and even left me feeling a bit unsettled in the morning and in the other one you just left me. I guess they are manifestations of how I'm feeling - that you've left me. I know you didn't want to, and that you didn't 'leave me' on purpose, but it's a funny feeling nonetheless.
I keep thinking - 'shit happens', death is part of the cycle of life, when it's your time, it's your time, and that we did everything that we knew to do, and that it's not up to me - I don't want to become bitter about your passing or spend my time bemoaning my loss of you. I understand that it's all part of the cycle and journey that each of us is on. Lately I've been thinking and feeling grateful for the nearly 25 years that our journeys coincided - I think we were both very good for each other in so many ways. You taught me (or maybe just helped me develop) strength, and determination (although I must have had some of that already) and consistency, and I think I helped you feel and be loved, and helped you mellow.
In looking back I'm really very sorry for my inconsistent behaviours - and the fights that we had because I wanted more from you then you were able to give. I never doubted your love, and in reflecting back I can see all that you did and were, were so much because of your love for me - and that's what you always said didn't you. I'm sorry that it was hard for me to accept the 'I'm here, aren't I?' reply to my 'Do you love me?' questions - I guess I just wanted the movie/story book romances that we 'girls' always seem to want.
I know you loved (love) me - I know that if you could have stayed with me, you would have... and for the number of times that I wondered (and if I'm honest, probably wished) that I was on my own, I so, so take it back now. I'm sure that I would rather spend our lives together settling into our older years, mellowing and beginning to 'find ourselves' again than what I am looking at now in figuring all this out on my own...
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Your Memorial Service
Today is the day of your Memorial Service - and just about an hour and a half before we officially get started at 4pm. It's a beautiful day - thank-you if you had anything to do with that - and hopefully it will stay that way and the winds will stay calm through the afternoon and into the evening. We've set everything up downstairs, using Unit 4 as the bathroom, Unit 3 for all the electronics - TV for showing the photos and Rhonda's new Bose iPod system for the music, and Unit 2 for food and drinks. We've (Robin, Diana, Rhonda, the kids and I) have put all the chairs and tables from the Units around the place downstairs and it all looks very nice. Once we have the electronics and flowers and glasses set up I'll take a picture as I expect this is a memory worth having photos of. Wasn't sure if we should take pictures during the more official aspects of the afternoon, but if I can get Joanne to take some...
It's been a funny mix of emotions for me today - to be expected I suppose - I'm not entirely sure how I feel exactly. Yesterday was a bit more unsettling for me, so I guess I'm more settled today, as I picked up your ashes. I was a bit apprehensive doing so (Rhonda decided she should come with me as she felt that I shouldn't do that on my own - I was glad that she was there) but once I got to the Funeral Home and actually saw the containers with your ashes in them I was much better than I thought I would be. We looked at little urns and I've decide that I would like a little bit of your ashes to keep with me so have decided to have them put a bit of you in a little urn. Rhonda helped me pick out one which we thought seemed like a 'John' urn - it's a light brown marble and it's got quite a lot of weight to it, and it fits into the palm of my hand. Rhonda thought if I ever needed to protect myself I could do quite a lot of damage with it hitting someone - you're forever my protector.
I've been 'practicing' your eulogy - I hope that you like it. It's pretty challenging to try to sum up someone's very full life in a few pages of words, but I feel like I've been able to provide a well-rounded 'snapshot'. and the pictures are really lovely - although I had to cull so many of them because it was just too long. Diana had the idea that I put all the photos together on CDs for each of the kids - I love the idea so will do that for them as there are so many great photos of you. Plus I'm hoping to get more photos from friends and family over the next few months. You know when my last laptop crashed, we lost so many photos - pretty much all of the ones from our last visits to the States in 2004 (Hawaii) and 2005 (Virginia) which is a bit disappointing - I'm hoping that friends and families will either have copies or some of their own from that time.
So... how am I feeling? Still not sure... I guess still a bit apprehensive about this afternoon, and in a lot of ways I guess I'm looking forward to being on the other side of things. But hopefully once people begin to arrive, I will relax and be able to just 'go with the flow'. I just have that really slightly raised heartbeat, and what feels like the beginning of a headache but I think it's just the uncertainty and anxiety associated with an event like this. Plus, I really have no idea how many people will be here, or if there'll be too much (or not enough) food and drink for everyone. The other thing is that it feels like today is another changing point - I've told myself that I need to get back into / find my routine again after the Memorial Service. And while I won't be going back to work until after we come back from the States I just feel like I need to start 'doing things' again. So... I've been making a mental list (which will become a written list) of things that need to be done around here and I guess I'll just start doing them. But, I know from here it all really changes - that you really aren't coming back, that I really do need to learn how to do this on my own, and I need to figure out who I am without you...
It's a weird feeling...
It's been a funny mix of emotions for me today - to be expected I suppose - I'm not entirely sure how I feel exactly. Yesterday was a bit more unsettling for me, so I guess I'm more settled today, as I picked up your ashes. I was a bit apprehensive doing so (Rhonda decided she should come with me as she felt that I shouldn't do that on my own - I was glad that she was there) but once I got to the Funeral Home and actually saw the containers with your ashes in them I was much better than I thought I would be. We looked at little urns and I've decide that I would like a little bit of your ashes to keep with me so have decided to have them put a bit of you in a little urn. Rhonda helped me pick out one which we thought seemed like a 'John' urn - it's a light brown marble and it's got quite a lot of weight to it, and it fits into the palm of my hand. Rhonda thought if I ever needed to protect myself I could do quite a lot of damage with it hitting someone - you're forever my protector.
I've been 'practicing' your eulogy - I hope that you like it. It's pretty challenging to try to sum up someone's very full life in a few pages of words, but I feel like I've been able to provide a well-rounded 'snapshot'. and the pictures are really lovely - although I had to cull so many of them because it was just too long. Diana had the idea that I put all the photos together on CDs for each of the kids - I love the idea so will do that for them as there are so many great photos of you. Plus I'm hoping to get more photos from friends and family over the next few months. You know when my last laptop crashed, we lost so many photos - pretty much all of the ones from our last visits to the States in 2004 (Hawaii) and 2005 (Virginia) which is a bit disappointing - I'm hoping that friends and families will either have copies or some of their own from that time.
So... how am I feeling? Still not sure... I guess still a bit apprehensive about this afternoon, and in a lot of ways I guess I'm looking forward to being on the other side of things. But hopefully once people begin to arrive, I will relax and be able to just 'go with the flow'. I just have that really slightly raised heartbeat, and what feels like the beginning of a headache but I think it's just the uncertainty and anxiety associated with an event like this. Plus, I really have no idea how many people will be here, or if there'll be too much (or not enough) food and drink for everyone. The other thing is that it feels like today is another changing point - I've told myself that I need to get back into / find my routine again after the Memorial Service. And while I won't be going back to work until after we come back from the States I just feel like I need to start 'doing things' again. So... I've been making a mental list (which will become a written list) of things that need to be done around here and I guess I'll just start doing them. But, I know from here it all really changes - that you really aren't coming back, that I really do need to learn how to do this on my own, and I need to figure out who I am without you...
It's a weird feeling...
Friday, July 30, 2010
Maybe I am numb...
I really can't pick how it is that I actually feel... definitely lacking motivation to do much of anything - really had to make myself clean a Unit the other day (glad that I did in the end) and then yesterday I swept the leaves around the pool (also had to make myself do it - didn't get to it until mid-day) but otherwise, the only things that I seem to 'want' to do is sit on the sofa and stare out at the ocean. Having said that, I don't feel any strong emotions of any sort - so, that's why I'm thinking this must be what numb is.
It is strange though - I can have a nice chat with someone (like Rhonda) and enjoy the conversation, even have a bit of a laugh, or get a bit teary (if we're talking about you) but when I'm on my own there isn't really any feeling of emotion - I'm just here. I think about you a lot, and I think about 'what next' although those thoughts tend to be a bit fuzzy and I certainly haven't made any definite plans beyond going to the States in October (paid for the tickets yesterday) and going back to work in the new year. Although I will (hopefully Jamie won't have a problem giving me another few months sick leave) have to go back for the last month or so of this term which will give me time to clean out my office, go through all the computer files and be working before the end of the school year which will mean that I'll get (or should get anyway) my holiday pay.
I went to dinner with Rhonda last night, to the new Thai place - it was quite nice. I think you would have liked it, good food (different from the other place, but still nice) and cheaper. $25 each for entrees, mains and dessert. I still get this sensation in my head, well it's though my body really, that you're waiting for me to come home... and then I realise, no, you're not. I'm on my own and no one really (well, I keep in touch with the kids - though they were both at the Show yesterday) is expecting me home at any particular time. Weird.
Night times are a bit odd feeling, watching TV on my own, going to bed and being in bed on my own, sleep and waking up on my own... all odd. I'm okay though... it's just so different.
I was speaking with Rhonda yesterday - spent a bit of time together, two walks on the beach, coffee after our morning walk and then wine after our afternoon walk and then dinner - about my thoughts about being on my own. I moved out of my Dad's house on Palai Street in Hilo when I was 15 or 16 (can't exactly remember, guess I could work it out if I went back and looked at my Uni transcripts) because he was moving back to Puna and I had been accepted into the Community College and wanted to stay in Hilo. I moved into a shared house situation on Kilauea St, rode my bike to school and to work (I was working at the restaurant that later became Lehua's) and that was going really well for me. I met Joe when I was 16, and it wasn't that much later that we moved in together. We both had separate places initially but we were with each other constantly, and then we moved into his parent's house in Ainaloa, although I can't exactly remember when that was - whether I was 16 or 17 by that point. Anyway, we lived together until we broke up at the end of the year of 1985. We had both graduated from UHH in June of 1985, kept the band going - we were playing pretty regularly then - but I guess I was growing up and needed something new. It's not that Joe was a bad person, but I needed a change... so we split, I think it was in November.
We kept the band together and continued practicing and playing gigs - it was going okay and we had both been out with other people but nothing very serious for either one of us. And then you asked my out... March 16th was our first date... and wasn't I smitten! I wasn't looking for another serious or long-term relationship, well, I certainly don't remember thinking that at all but you were amazing and really I had always been attracted to you (you know the kind of increased heartbeat, tingling sensations, can't help smiling kinda of attraction every time I saw you - even if it was from a distance) so I always thought it was meant to be - I couldn't have stopped that attraction even if I wanted to. After an unsuccessful move to San Francisco with the band, I moved back to Hawaii and in with you in the summer of 1986 - and we were together ever since.
So, really, I haven't spent that much time on my own as an independent woman. While of course I still have the kids, I'm feeling that this is now my time to 'do it on my own' and I feel okay about that. I suppose at sometime down the track there'll be another long-term man in my life, and I expect in the nearer future (but not to near) I'll need a lover, or at least the occasional fling as I do still like, enjoy and want to have sex, but I'm feeling really strongly (oh, there's a feeling/emotion) that I want to do things on my own for a while. I want to make this place work and be successful (so that I can sell it for a good price in a few years), I want to continue my own career (although I haven't quite figured out in what direction just yet - I'll just work back in a school for a year or two until that becomes a bit clearer in my head) and I want to get both kids off successfully pursuing their particular interests and dreams.
I want to be able to honour our lives together and your live and influence on my life through continuing to live a good life and make good decisions - one's that we would have made together... and take it from there... not sure what it's all going to look like but I just can't see myself sitting here and pining away. That's just not the kind of person I am, and I don't think you'd want me to do that.
Know that I miss you, and that I didn't choose to take this path - while I might have wondered what it would have been like on my own, I never really wanted to do it that way - but now that I'm on it, I feel like (oh, another feeling) that I have to do it well and make the most of whatever opportunities present themselves, which means that I also need to be open to those opportunities.
The weather has finally gotten a bit nice - not raining at least. Still a bit overcast with sun splashes through-out the day, but warm.
It is strange though - I can have a nice chat with someone (like Rhonda) and enjoy the conversation, even have a bit of a laugh, or get a bit teary (if we're talking about you) but when I'm on my own there isn't really any feeling of emotion - I'm just here. I think about you a lot, and I think about 'what next' although those thoughts tend to be a bit fuzzy and I certainly haven't made any definite plans beyond going to the States in October (paid for the tickets yesterday) and going back to work in the new year. Although I will (hopefully Jamie won't have a problem giving me another few months sick leave) have to go back for the last month or so of this term which will give me time to clean out my office, go through all the computer files and be working before the end of the school year which will mean that I'll get (or should get anyway) my holiday pay.
I went to dinner with Rhonda last night, to the new Thai place - it was quite nice. I think you would have liked it, good food (different from the other place, but still nice) and cheaper. $25 each for entrees, mains and dessert. I still get this sensation in my head, well it's though my body really, that you're waiting for me to come home... and then I realise, no, you're not. I'm on my own and no one really (well, I keep in touch with the kids - though they were both at the Show yesterday) is expecting me home at any particular time. Weird.
Night times are a bit odd feeling, watching TV on my own, going to bed and being in bed on my own, sleep and waking up on my own... all odd. I'm okay though... it's just so different.
I was speaking with Rhonda yesterday - spent a bit of time together, two walks on the beach, coffee after our morning walk and then wine after our afternoon walk and then dinner - about my thoughts about being on my own. I moved out of my Dad's house on Palai Street in Hilo when I was 15 or 16 (can't exactly remember, guess I could work it out if I went back and looked at my Uni transcripts) because he was moving back to Puna and I had been accepted into the Community College and wanted to stay in Hilo. I moved into a shared house situation on Kilauea St, rode my bike to school and to work (I was working at the restaurant that later became Lehua's) and that was going really well for me. I met Joe when I was 16, and it wasn't that much later that we moved in together. We both had separate places initially but we were with each other constantly, and then we moved into his parent's house in Ainaloa, although I can't exactly remember when that was - whether I was 16 or 17 by that point. Anyway, we lived together until we broke up at the end of the year of 1985. We had both graduated from UHH in June of 1985, kept the band going - we were playing pretty regularly then - but I guess I was growing up and needed something new. It's not that Joe was a bad person, but I needed a change... so we split, I think it was in November.
We kept the band together and continued practicing and playing gigs - it was going okay and we had both been out with other people but nothing very serious for either one of us. And then you asked my out... March 16th was our first date... and wasn't I smitten! I wasn't looking for another serious or long-term relationship, well, I certainly don't remember thinking that at all but you were amazing and really I had always been attracted to you (you know the kind of increased heartbeat, tingling sensations, can't help smiling kinda of attraction every time I saw you - even if it was from a distance) so I always thought it was meant to be - I couldn't have stopped that attraction even if I wanted to. After an unsuccessful move to San Francisco with the band, I moved back to Hawaii and in with you in the summer of 1986 - and we were together ever since.
So, really, I haven't spent that much time on my own as an independent woman. While of course I still have the kids, I'm feeling that this is now my time to 'do it on my own' and I feel okay about that. I suppose at sometime down the track there'll be another long-term man in my life, and I expect in the nearer future (but not to near) I'll need a lover, or at least the occasional fling as I do still like, enjoy and want to have sex, but I'm feeling really strongly (oh, there's a feeling/emotion) that I want to do things on my own for a while. I want to make this place work and be successful (so that I can sell it for a good price in a few years), I want to continue my own career (although I haven't quite figured out in what direction just yet - I'll just work back in a school for a year or two until that becomes a bit clearer in my head) and I want to get both kids off successfully pursuing their particular interests and dreams.
I want to be able to honour our lives together and your live and influence on my life through continuing to live a good life and make good decisions - one's that we would have made together... and take it from there... not sure what it's all going to look like but I just can't see myself sitting here and pining away. That's just not the kind of person I am, and I don't think you'd want me to do that.
Know that I miss you, and that I didn't choose to take this path - while I might have wondered what it would have been like on my own, I never really wanted to do it that way - but now that I'm on it, I feel like (oh, another feeling) that I have to do it well and make the most of whatever opportunities present themselves, which means that I also need to be open to those opportunities.
The weather has finally gotten a bit nice - not raining at least. Still a bit overcast with sun splashes through-out the day, but warm.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
The last weeks...
I feel like I should write about what things were like in those last weeks of your life - really it was quite surreal then too, and I feel like I need to write/discuss it while the details (what details I have as things are kinda fuzzy too) are still in my head.
I think I knew you were going to die, probably about 6 weeks before - it came to me during my first session with the counselor, but I guess I also choose not to acknowledge or accept it...
I think I knew you were going to die, probably about 6 weeks before - it came to me during my first session with the counselor, but I guess I also choose not to acknowledge or accept it...
What to do?
I'm sitting on the sofa - your spot - on my own in the house and wondering what I should do now? There's plenty of things that I could be doing - continue cleaning the house, continue tidying our closet, make the bed, clean Unit 3, sweep the leaves from the walkways around the place, input the year's invoices for taxes, respond to the numerous condolence emails that people have sent... - but I'm finding it difficult to motivate myself to do any of those things. At the moment anyway, perhaps after writing for a bit I'll find something to do which happens to take my interest at that moment - I'm leaning towards sweeping the leaves...
It continues to hit me that you're not coming back... I suppose after nearly 25 years together, it's understandable that I'm having a hard time adjusting to the fact that you're not available to check with, ask questions of, chat to, make decisions with, discuss things... I guess this blog is a bit of a substitute for that, but certainly no replacement.
I do wonder 'where' you - is it you - are at now? While we've heard the stories of those who have had near-death experiences, and the Tibetan Book of Living & Dying has a pretty definite idea (and description) of what they believe happens in the afterdeath (before rebirth), I just wonder where you are now? I hope it's peaceful, and blissful, and somehow fulfilling and that it's all okay. Or perhaps it really is nothingness... but that's very hard for those of us still living to really get our heads around - it just seems like you should still be 'out there' somewhere. I wonder if you are looking down (?) on us... if you have feelings, sensations, worries & concerns... or maybe once you pass over you are able to get that sense that everything does really work out.
That's something I'm having a bit of difficulty getting my head around - that concept that "everything works out in the end" or "everything happens for a reason, and it all works out". I've always felt strongly about that, and have found that it is a sentiment that makes it much easier to 'go with the flow' when things are difficult or frustrating, so I want to believe that this is just another difficult/challenging time which that saying applies to as well. But.... I just don't understand how you dying at 59, leaving me, leaving the kids (I know it wasn't your choice - and you wouldn't have gone if it was up to you) but how does that fit into the idea that 'it all works out in the end' or that 'things have a way of working out'. I'm just not able to really get my head around that one.
I am beginning to wonder what life will be like without you though - and I guess if I am honest I have wondered that before (obviously never acted upon it) but there have certainly been times when we've had difficult points in our relationship that I've wondered. But now - here it is. I'm essentially (still have the kids to care for) on my own... I'm not really sure what to do with that thought either.
I've decided (not to make any decisions - sounds funny - I've decided not to do any deciding) - but in all seriousness, I've decided not to make any 'big' decisions (not entirely sure what 'big' is - I suppose trying to sell Taihoa is the most obvious) for the next year. I see this year coming up as a 'Year of firsts' - so many things to do, to think of, to act upon, without you to do it with. Not just events like birthdays (really not sure how I'm going to handle your birthday/Christmas - guess I'll think about that more when it comes around), anniversaries, Megan's Formal next year... but also just the 'everyday' of live and work - taxes, bank accounts, rentals, Units, website, travel, back to work, do I go back to study?, what do I want to do next? It's just that all of our future plans were together - it's different now - and I guess we didn't really have a 'next step' plan so now it's up to me - what will I do? I'm not frightened - a bit apprehensive if anything... and perhaps it's just not anything to think about, just let it happens as it does - be open to the possibilities. It's just you know how I like to think things through and about all the possibilities - I'm sure I probably spend too much 'time in my head'.
I keep thinking about our first and last kisses - they were both so beautiful, so memorable, so tender, and so different. Our first kiss (well kisses - but I definitely remember the first on) was in the car (orange Honda hatchback) parked at Reed's Bay after our first dinner together at Harrington's Restaurant (there were many more to come - both in Hilo and in Kawaihae). It was the most amazing kiss - tender but passionate - I felt it through-out my whole body - you had me then and there! I remember wanting you so badly - wanting to make love with you, to keep kissing, to feel your body, all of your body - god, I'm getting turned on just thinking about it! Damn you were hot!
And the last time you kissed me (because I kissed you more after that) I was helping you to sit up - and you were so weak at that point that you were having a hard time sitting up straight. Sometimes you could, but other times you would slump over. I was leaning across you - don't remember what I was doing exactly, maybe grabbing or adjusting a pillow, and you leaned over and kissed me, twice. and it was so tender and soft and sweet and beautiful - so different from the first one but so full of love.
I love you so much - I always have. Even when I was angry with you or frustrated and even all those times when I did wonder what life would be like on my own.
I miss you.
It continues to hit me that you're not coming back... I suppose after nearly 25 years together, it's understandable that I'm having a hard time adjusting to the fact that you're not available to check with, ask questions of, chat to, make decisions with, discuss things... I guess this blog is a bit of a substitute for that, but certainly no replacement.
I do wonder 'where' you - is it you - are at now? While we've heard the stories of those who have had near-death experiences, and the Tibetan Book of Living & Dying has a pretty definite idea (and description) of what they believe happens in the afterdeath (before rebirth), I just wonder where you are now? I hope it's peaceful, and blissful, and somehow fulfilling and that it's all okay. Or perhaps it really is nothingness... but that's very hard for those of us still living to really get our heads around - it just seems like you should still be 'out there' somewhere. I wonder if you are looking down (?) on us... if you have feelings, sensations, worries & concerns... or maybe once you pass over you are able to get that sense that everything does really work out.
That's something I'm having a bit of difficulty getting my head around - that concept that "everything works out in the end" or "everything happens for a reason, and it all works out". I've always felt strongly about that, and have found that it is a sentiment that makes it much easier to 'go with the flow' when things are difficult or frustrating, so I want to believe that this is just another difficult/challenging time which that saying applies to as well. But.... I just don't understand how you dying at 59, leaving me, leaving the kids (I know it wasn't your choice - and you wouldn't have gone if it was up to you) but how does that fit into the idea that 'it all works out in the end' or that 'things have a way of working out'. I'm just not able to really get my head around that one.
I am beginning to wonder what life will be like without you though - and I guess if I am honest I have wondered that before (obviously never acted upon it) but there have certainly been times when we've had difficult points in our relationship that I've wondered. But now - here it is. I'm essentially (still have the kids to care for) on my own... I'm not really sure what to do with that thought either.
I've decided (not to make any decisions - sounds funny - I've decided not to do any deciding) - but in all seriousness, I've decided not to make any 'big' decisions (not entirely sure what 'big' is - I suppose trying to sell Taihoa is the most obvious) for the next year. I see this year coming up as a 'Year of firsts' - so many things to do, to think of, to act upon, without you to do it with. Not just events like birthdays (really not sure how I'm going to handle your birthday/Christmas - guess I'll think about that more when it comes around), anniversaries, Megan's Formal next year... but also just the 'everyday' of live and work - taxes, bank accounts, rentals, Units, website, travel, back to work, do I go back to study?, what do I want to do next? It's just that all of our future plans were together - it's different now - and I guess we didn't really have a 'next step' plan so now it's up to me - what will I do? I'm not frightened - a bit apprehensive if anything... and perhaps it's just not anything to think about, just let it happens as it does - be open to the possibilities. It's just you know how I like to think things through and about all the possibilities - I'm sure I probably spend too much 'time in my head'.
I keep thinking about our first and last kisses - they were both so beautiful, so memorable, so tender, and so different. Our first kiss (well kisses - but I definitely remember the first on) was in the car (orange Honda hatchback) parked at Reed's Bay after our first dinner together at Harrington's Restaurant (there were many more to come - both in Hilo and in Kawaihae). It was the most amazing kiss - tender but passionate - I felt it through-out my whole body - you had me then and there! I remember wanting you so badly - wanting to make love with you, to keep kissing, to feel your body, all of your body - god, I'm getting turned on just thinking about it! Damn you were hot!
And the last time you kissed me (because I kissed you more after that) I was helping you to sit up - and you were so weak at that point that you were having a hard time sitting up straight. Sometimes you could, but other times you would slump over. I was leaning across you - don't remember what I was doing exactly, maybe grabbing or adjusting a pillow, and you leaned over and kissed me, twice. and it was so tender and soft and sweet and beautiful - so different from the first one but so full of love.
I love you so much - I always have. Even when I was angry with you or frustrated and even all those times when I did wonder what life would be like on my own.
I miss you.
Yesterday was low
It was a week ago yesterday that you left us... and it's been a very odd 7 days. A bizarre mixture of sadness and loss, relief, exhaustion, dazed and confused, fuzzy thinking, floating, numbness, limbo, uncertainty, concern, worry... but interestingly today I felt a bit clearer, perhaps just a bit more accepting of our current reality. I don't know why exactly - is it because it's been a week? Because the sun came out a bit today? Because the kids and I decided it would be a good day to go to Cairns, do some errands and a bit of shopping, and just get out of the house? I don't know...
I thought about you a lot today - while driving, while shopping, while talking with the kids - I'm pretty sure that the full impact of your passing has not hit me yet. I know that I am still 'floating' through the day... but I guess I am beginning to make sense of the fact that you're not coming back. Or maybe it's just today and I'll go back to feeling lost again tomorrow.
Another thing about the last week that's made it all a bit surreal, and perhaps has also helped to ease the complete loss of you is the number of people that have stopped by on a daily basis, the flower deliveries (pretty much every day), the cards, and the emails, and the food (everyday a meal from one of the staff members at school - it's been so fantastic). While there's also plenty of quiet time, all of these things have been welcome distractions and somehow cushion your absence. I know (and have discussed this with several people) that in a month's time or so, when the visitors, flowers, food, cards, and emails have stopped that it will all hit me. I miss you now but I expect that I'll really feel your absence then.
Both from missing your presence, your hugs, sleeping (and making love) with you but also around this place... there are sooo many things that need to be kept on top of and done on a regular (and sometimes not so regular) basis. I had to get a replacement lock today for the shed as the plastic plate on the locking mechanism just came apart. And of course, they don't have just a replacement part, I had to get the whole locking mechanism because they no longer make the plastic ones (I guess they realised that they were a bit worthless because they so easily fall apart). Oh well... at least I got them to give me a trade price. Tomorrow Ethan & I will give it a go putting it back on again. I know I could get someone to do it but I feel like I need to try to do it myself (with Ethan's help of course) as these things have now become my complete responsibility.
Ethan had a bit of a prang - Toyota vs fence - I know that you would not have been impressed, I certainly wasn't. I expect that you would have handled it a lot differently than me (or at least a bit differently as I expect you would have gotten quite angry). While I didn't get angry (just annoyed) I did really try to impress upon him that it was completely the result of him not thinking, moving too fast, and not taking the first feeling of car touching fence seriously. While it's all fixable - and we found a replacement fence board in the shed - he will have to get the car fixed at a panel beaters (who knows what that's going to cost) as the paint has been scratched off to bare metal. It's a good little car and I want it to last for as long as we can make it, so it's got to be repaired and he'll have to pay for it entirely.
It's hard though because I know that none of us are thinking/working at 100% - I certainly know that I'm not thinking straight. I really have to think things through, and double check (especially my emails and my maths) to make sure that I am doing/saying what I had intended to. I'm pretty sure the kids are feeling the same way, they just don't necessarily have the wherewithall to know that's what's happening for them.
Megan made it to camp on Sunday but the camp coordinator called at about 8am yesterday morning to say that Megan needed to come home. I was happy to go out (to Murray Falls) and get her, and understood that being out there was probably hard. She made it through two nights, and it was wet and gray the whole time. The morning that I picked her up was the day of the overnight hike/camp and perhaps that was part of the problem too. But we're all feeling a bit more delicate and vulnerable than usual, and while I would have expected her to carry on under normal circumstances, this past week (and really the past several months) are nothing like normal, really they have been quite extra-ordinary, and I think it was all too much for her. She said that she'd had a feeling in her stomach and a bit of a panic attack when the teacher asked her how she was... but as soon as she heard that I was coming to pick her up she felt better. I know it was the right thing to do.
You know, when I reflect back now I realise really how extra-ordinary the past 7 months of our lives have been and certainly the past 3. The weird thing is how certain I was - really until probably the last 3 weeks of your life - that you would get better. Were we too confident in the Protocel? Should we have tried the Vitamin C regime? Should we have opted to do that first - would it have made a difference? Were we right to keep listening to all the people that said to stay confident, give it at least 4 months, that were able to explain the problems that you were having and the continued deterioration? I have to say, I have been thinking/asking myself those questions all week, and really probably all month but by then it was really too late to make any changes. You know I even ordered (and received) a new bottle of Protocel - I had thought that we weren't going to need it, I guess I knew we had passed the 'point of no return' but I just couldn't bring myself to consciously believe it, or even say it aloud or discuss it with you.
The other side of all that is I keep hearing what my father used to say (and probably still does) - 'when it's your time to go, it's your time to go'... so then I wonder did we get lucky with the time that we did get? Some people (I think it was Gaye actually) have said that we got 3 years more (you know from the first diagnosis) then perhaps we would have (I guess without treatment). But then that makes me think - what would have happened if you had just had the surgery and not had the chemo and radiation? Would your body have been stronger? Better able to heal itself? What if we had moved into the anti-cancer diet and lifestyle sooner? I know - hind-sight is always 20/20
Do you remember saying how you wanted them to put back what they took out? You were talking to me and Jamie, and definitely on the pain meds at that point, but you were talking about your stomach/oesophagus. I know it was hard for you after the first bout and treatment for the cancer, and that your quality of life was really never the same after that.
In looking back, while I know you were here with us which was really good, especially for us.. but if we consider the time involved in surgery, two rounds of chemo and radiation and then the healing time on top of that... and then the down-hill run of the last 7 months - it's been a tough/rough 3 years. And we probably only had 6 to 8 months that we could consider really good. You were really strong though, and you stayed strong and positive, and you just got on with it didn't you - one of your amazing qualities my love and one that I hope I can carry on for you.
It's been really lovely to hear/read all the wonderful memories that people have of you, and all of your qualities that people have mentioned and reminded me about. Greg sent an email and said that the thing he'll remember most is your smile, and how your whole face smiled... you know while I have never actually articulated that thought in my head, I knew exactly what he meant when he said that. And all of your photos are evidence to that...
I love you so much...
I thought about you a lot today - while driving, while shopping, while talking with the kids - I'm pretty sure that the full impact of your passing has not hit me yet. I know that I am still 'floating' through the day... but I guess I am beginning to make sense of the fact that you're not coming back. Or maybe it's just today and I'll go back to feeling lost again tomorrow.
Another thing about the last week that's made it all a bit surreal, and perhaps has also helped to ease the complete loss of you is the number of people that have stopped by on a daily basis, the flower deliveries (pretty much every day), the cards, and the emails, and the food (everyday a meal from one of the staff members at school - it's been so fantastic). While there's also plenty of quiet time, all of these things have been welcome distractions and somehow cushion your absence. I know (and have discussed this with several people) that in a month's time or so, when the visitors, flowers, food, cards, and emails have stopped that it will all hit me. I miss you now but I expect that I'll really feel your absence then.
Both from missing your presence, your hugs, sleeping (and making love) with you but also around this place... there are sooo many things that need to be kept on top of and done on a regular (and sometimes not so regular) basis. I had to get a replacement lock today for the shed as the plastic plate on the locking mechanism just came apart. And of course, they don't have just a replacement part, I had to get the whole locking mechanism because they no longer make the plastic ones (I guess they realised that they were a bit worthless because they so easily fall apart). Oh well... at least I got them to give me a trade price. Tomorrow Ethan & I will give it a go putting it back on again. I know I could get someone to do it but I feel like I need to try to do it myself (with Ethan's help of course) as these things have now become my complete responsibility.
Ethan had a bit of a prang - Toyota vs fence - I know that you would not have been impressed, I certainly wasn't. I expect that you would have handled it a lot differently than me (or at least a bit differently as I expect you would have gotten quite angry). While I didn't get angry (just annoyed) I did really try to impress upon him that it was completely the result of him not thinking, moving too fast, and not taking the first feeling of car touching fence seriously. While it's all fixable - and we found a replacement fence board in the shed - he will have to get the car fixed at a panel beaters (who knows what that's going to cost) as the paint has been scratched off to bare metal. It's a good little car and I want it to last for as long as we can make it, so it's got to be repaired and he'll have to pay for it entirely.
It's hard though because I know that none of us are thinking/working at 100% - I certainly know that I'm not thinking straight. I really have to think things through, and double check (especially my emails and my maths) to make sure that I am doing/saying what I had intended to. I'm pretty sure the kids are feeling the same way, they just don't necessarily have the wherewithall to know that's what's happening for them.
Megan made it to camp on Sunday but the camp coordinator called at about 8am yesterday morning to say that Megan needed to come home. I was happy to go out (to Murray Falls) and get her, and understood that being out there was probably hard. She made it through two nights, and it was wet and gray the whole time. The morning that I picked her up was the day of the overnight hike/camp and perhaps that was part of the problem too. But we're all feeling a bit more delicate and vulnerable than usual, and while I would have expected her to carry on under normal circumstances, this past week (and really the past several months) are nothing like normal, really they have been quite extra-ordinary, and I think it was all too much for her. She said that she'd had a feeling in her stomach and a bit of a panic attack when the teacher asked her how she was... but as soon as she heard that I was coming to pick her up she felt better. I know it was the right thing to do.
You know, when I reflect back now I realise really how extra-ordinary the past 7 months of our lives have been and certainly the past 3. The weird thing is how certain I was - really until probably the last 3 weeks of your life - that you would get better. Were we too confident in the Protocel? Should we have tried the Vitamin C regime? Should we have opted to do that first - would it have made a difference? Were we right to keep listening to all the people that said to stay confident, give it at least 4 months, that were able to explain the problems that you were having and the continued deterioration? I have to say, I have been thinking/asking myself those questions all week, and really probably all month but by then it was really too late to make any changes. You know I even ordered (and received) a new bottle of Protocel - I had thought that we weren't going to need it, I guess I knew we had passed the 'point of no return' but I just couldn't bring myself to consciously believe it, or even say it aloud or discuss it with you.
The other side of all that is I keep hearing what my father used to say (and probably still does) - 'when it's your time to go, it's your time to go'... so then I wonder did we get lucky with the time that we did get? Some people (I think it was Gaye actually) have said that we got 3 years more (you know from the first diagnosis) then perhaps we would have (I guess without treatment). But then that makes me think - what would have happened if you had just had the surgery and not had the chemo and radiation? Would your body have been stronger? Better able to heal itself? What if we had moved into the anti-cancer diet and lifestyle sooner? I know - hind-sight is always 20/20
Do you remember saying how you wanted them to put back what they took out? You were talking to me and Jamie, and definitely on the pain meds at that point, but you were talking about your stomach/oesophagus. I know it was hard for you after the first bout and treatment for the cancer, and that your quality of life was really never the same after that.
In looking back, while I know you were here with us which was really good, especially for us.. but if we consider the time involved in surgery, two rounds of chemo and radiation and then the healing time on top of that... and then the down-hill run of the last 7 months - it's been a tough/rough 3 years. And we probably only had 6 to 8 months that we could consider really good. You were really strong though, and you stayed strong and positive, and you just got on with it didn't you - one of your amazing qualities my love and one that I hope I can carry on for you.
It's been really lovely to hear/read all the wonderful memories that people have of you, and all of your qualities that people have mentioned and reminded me about. Greg sent an email and said that the thing he'll remember most is your smile, and how your whole face smiled... you know while I have never actually articulated that thought in my head, I knew exactly what he meant when he said that. And all of your photos are evidence to that...
I love you so much...
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