I'm quite sick tonight...so why am I on this computer? I'm missing Mark so much that I alternately am crying and wanting to kick down my walls. I'm in so much pain, both emotional and physical, that it's overwhelming. My tumors and neuropathic pain are so bad that I'm nauseous.
On nights like these Mark would rub my head until I could fall asleep. Somehow it made my pain better. I don't miss him because of the things that he did for me...I miss him for HIM! I don't know how I'm going to live without him. He was my heart. I will never forget when we met...never forget his wink when we married...I am absolutely lost without him.
Mark...wherever you are I miss you and love you.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Superman
I went to a "young widows/widowers" support group last week. People who had lost their spouses two years ago are still weeping and lost without them. I don't know if I can do "this" for that long. Some days I don't know if I can do another day.
I've never known pain like this. I've gone through the requisite horrible early 20's relationship, with the "world ending" when it did. I've gone through betrayals by people I trusted, and endured a relationship that never should have been. Nothing approaches this. I can't get the graphic memory of what his face looked like "that morning". I can't forget the coolness of his skin, and how he didn't react. I can't forget that horrible feeling the moment I realized that something serious was wrong. I can't forget the gurgle in his mouth when I tried to breathe into him. I can't forget the 911 operator telling me that adults usually start breathing after the series of chest compressions that I administered. I can't forget how I frantically RAN down the stairs to unlock the door, all the while thinking that I had to get oxygen into Mark. I had to protect his brain. I can't forget the constant thought, I've got to get oxygen into him...I must protect his brain. I can't forget how it seemed like an interminable wait, and how I repeatedly screamed at the operator "Why aren't they here yet?". I can't forget hearing the sirens get louder, and the final opening of the door with their loud greeting. And, lastly I can't forget sitting in the grass on a sunny July morning, rocking back and forth, waiting for them to rush Mark to the hospital on a stretcher, with bags hooked up to him. The longer I waited, the more I knew something was so wrong that it could never be right again.
He was my WHOLE family. He was my husband, my future child's father, my whole heart. Yes, I got mad at him at times, but there was NOTHING he could do that could not be forgiven. He knew that. He used to tell me that even if he committed the most horrible act in the world he knew that two women would be in prison on visiting day; his mother and me.
I told him a few times, but he didn't know how much I appreciated this house that he built for us. How many single men would have built a house for the family that they wanted to have? I looked out of the sunroom into the back yard this morning, searching for Hoover and appreciated the beauty of the room and of the beautiful yard. He created the sunroom, I created the yard, and together we raised our puppy. We could do so much together. I feel so lost without him. What he didn't know was that I am weak without him. He used to think that I was so much stronger than him. I was just more assertive. He was the source of my strength. It was easy to go out and fight "evil" if I knew that I could come home and be encircled by his arms.
Before I met him I thought I was strong. I was going to save the world. I didn't need a man. But I had a type of strength that would eventually burn out. You can only run on your "gut" strength for so long. I got a different, lasting strength from Mark. A strength based on love, trust and commitment. A strength that allowed me to be weak at times and need him. I don't regret it, I just have to figure out something new, because I can't go back.
There's a reasons why humans are social animals. We're weak alone, vulnerable to predators. In addition to tools revolutionizing human society, love has. Hold tight to your "tribe", with them you have the strength of Superman.
I've never known pain like this. I've gone through the requisite horrible early 20's relationship, with the "world ending" when it did. I've gone through betrayals by people I trusted, and endured a relationship that never should have been. Nothing approaches this. I can't get the graphic memory of what his face looked like "that morning". I can't forget the coolness of his skin, and how he didn't react. I can't forget that horrible feeling the moment I realized that something serious was wrong. I can't forget the gurgle in his mouth when I tried to breathe into him. I can't forget the 911 operator telling me that adults usually start breathing after the series of chest compressions that I administered. I can't forget how I frantically RAN down the stairs to unlock the door, all the while thinking that I had to get oxygen into Mark. I had to protect his brain. I can't forget the constant thought, I've got to get oxygen into him...I must protect his brain. I can't forget how it seemed like an interminable wait, and how I repeatedly screamed at the operator "Why aren't they here yet?". I can't forget hearing the sirens get louder, and the final opening of the door with their loud greeting. And, lastly I can't forget sitting in the grass on a sunny July morning, rocking back and forth, waiting for them to rush Mark to the hospital on a stretcher, with bags hooked up to him. The longer I waited, the more I knew something was so wrong that it could never be right again.
He was my WHOLE family. He was my husband, my future child's father, my whole heart. Yes, I got mad at him at times, but there was NOTHING he could do that could not be forgiven. He knew that. He used to tell me that even if he committed the most horrible act in the world he knew that two women would be in prison on visiting day; his mother and me.
I told him a few times, but he didn't know how much I appreciated this house that he built for us. How many single men would have built a house for the family that they wanted to have? I looked out of the sunroom into the back yard this morning, searching for Hoover and appreciated the beauty of the room and of the beautiful yard. He created the sunroom, I created the yard, and together we raised our puppy. We could do so much together. I feel so lost without him. What he didn't know was that I am weak without him. He used to think that I was so much stronger than him. I was just more assertive. He was the source of my strength. It was easy to go out and fight "evil" if I knew that I could come home and be encircled by his arms.
Before I met him I thought I was strong. I was going to save the world. I didn't need a man. But I had a type of strength that would eventually burn out. You can only run on your "gut" strength for so long. I got a different, lasting strength from Mark. A strength based on love, trust and commitment. A strength that allowed me to be weak at times and need him. I don't regret it, I just have to figure out something new, because I can't go back.
There's a reasons why humans are social animals. We're weak alone, vulnerable to predators. In addition to tools revolutionizing human society, love has. Hold tight to your "tribe", with them you have the strength of Superman.
Long time gone
I haven't posted in a long time. The election of Obama was a sad day for me. Not because I didn't want him to be elected, I passionately did. But because Mark wanted him to be elected, and Mark isn't here to celebrate with me. I've found that occasions that would have been celebrations four months ago are now somber for me. I can't celebrate without him. It's like singing "Happy Birthday" to yourself...an exercise in stupidity.
Mark and I had signed up to volunteer for Obama in June. On election day the Obama campaign requested that volunteers make phone calls, requesting people to go vote. I signed in as Mark and made 100 phone calls, then signed in as myself and made another 100 calls. I'm not sure that it made one more vote for Obama; but it felt good to continue Mark's passion for politics.
The night of the election I went to a Bob Dylan concert at the Northrup Auditorium, on campus at the University of Minnesota. The moment the concert was over a buzz went throughout letting us all know that Obama had won. When we left the auditorium we found a spontaneous group of mostly college students had formed in front, beating a drum, dancing and chanting "Yes we can" and "Obama". It was a spontaneous joyous and historic moment. I was surrounded by hundreds of people who were celebrating, but I was all alone. I stood and watched them and started to cry. I'm sure anyone who noticed thought they were tears of joy. They weren't. Of course I was happy that Obama had won. This is the type of win/loss that the whole world knows about. But the more profound losses and wins happen every day in someone's life and never hit the news. The most press that Mark got was a couple of obits with his picture in them in the local papers. It is the biggest loss of my life. Worse than when Bush stole the election from Gore. Worse than anything. And it never made the news.
That's probably why I never watch the news on TV. The really important things never are on the news. They're on the bed next to you, they're sitting next to you at the table....they're romping outside in the yard.
Today, just for today - please cut one tv show from your schedule, and spend an hour with someone you love. Play a game with them, cuddle with them, talk to them. Don't wait for Thanksgiving to show how much you value them. Do it NOW.
Natalia
Mark and I had signed up to volunteer for Obama in June. On election day the Obama campaign requested that volunteers make phone calls, requesting people to go vote. I signed in as Mark and made 100 phone calls, then signed in as myself and made another 100 calls. I'm not sure that it made one more vote for Obama; but it felt good to continue Mark's passion for politics.
The night of the election I went to a Bob Dylan concert at the Northrup Auditorium, on campus at the University of Minnesota. The moment the concert was over a buzz went throughout letting us all know that Obama had won. When we left the auditorium we found a spontaneous group of mostly college students had formed in front, beating a drum, dancing and chanting "Yes we can" and "Obama". It was a spontaneous joyous and historic moment. I was surrounded by hundreds of people who were celebrating, but I was all alone. I stood and watched them and started to cry. I'm sure anyone who noticed thought they were tears of joy. They weren't. Of course I was happy that Obama had won. This is the type of win/loss that the whole world knows about. But the more profound losses and wins happen every day in someone's life and never hit the news. The most press that Mark got was a couple of obits with his picture in them in the local papers. It is the biggest loss of my life. Worse than when Bush stole the election from Gore. Worse than anything. And it never made the news.
That's probably why I never watch the news on TV. The really important things never are on the news. They're on the bed next to you, they're sitting next to you at the table....they're romping outside in the yard.
Today, just for today - please cut one tv show from your schedule, and spend an hour with someone you love. Play a game with them, cuddle with them, talk to them. Don't wait for Thanksgiving to show how much you value them. Do it NOW.
Natalia
Friday, October 31, 2008
Politics, Love & Heartache
It's now almost 11 a.m., it's an almost perfect late fall day in Minnesota, and I've spent almost all of it so far alternately trying to forget about the space next to me in bed that is now occupied only by "the dog", and crying because I still miss Mark.
It seems like everything near and far is falling apart - Wall street, unemployment, even people in my neighborhood of "achievers" struggling to keep what we all thought was the "American Dream". The American dream turned into the American nightmare. We became a nation of full of Ipods , stainless steel appliances, and pseudo-designer labels, and we're hollow on the inside. We're willing to kill men, women, and children (and killing a man is just as bad as killing a woman or a baby), just to keep our fat oversized SUV's going to the strip mall where we can buy more crap to fill the void in our empty lives. I used to wonder when the Romans realized their empire was crumbling. Their expansion and greed were the seeds of their own demise. I feel that on both a personal and national level. I think we are in the midst of history. The first African-American will be elected, and unfortunately it will be too little, too late. We've denied This is the end of our empire. My empire has been gone for months...I can either wallow in the ruins or start to rebuild. I'm not sure which I'm going to do yet.
I bought the American Dream...at least I had it on lay-away. I've got too much shit, way too much shit. I've only spent two months of my marriage living authentically; the two months between when Mark almost died and when he did. During that time my energy wasn't wasted on stuff - it was devoted to people. I decided to forgive those that had harmed me the most. I forgave those that many people (including Mark) said were unforgivable. I did it for myself, for Mark, and for the child that we thought we would have. There was no way I could clearly love with the same heart that bore hatred/anger towards others.
Mark frequently said that it would be worth sacrificing his life if he could take out Bush and Cheney (and their whole corrupt administration). We often think of those things that we would DIE for, but what/who would we LIVE for?
We go around thinking we can each just do our job, go home, watch reality tv, and somehow the whole world works. It isn't working. It isn't enough. If you truly love, you've got to do something for the larger world. Volunteer, vote, do something more.
It seems like everything near and far is falling apart - Wall street, unemployment, even people in my neighborhood of "achievers" struggling to keep what we all thought was the "American Dream". The American dream turned into the American nightmare. We became a nation of full of Ipods , stainless steel appliances, and pseudo-designer labels, and we're hollow on the inside. We're willing to kill men, women, and children (and killing a man is just as bad as killing a woman or a baby), just to keep our fat oversized SUV's going to the strip mall where we can buy more crap to fill the void in our empty lives. I used to wonder when the Romans realized their empire was crumbling. Their expansion and greed were the seeds of their own demise. I feel that on both a personal and national level. I think we are in the midst of history. The first African-American will be elected, and unfortunately it will be too little, too late. We've denied This is the end of our empire. My empire has been gone for months...I can either wallow in the ruins or start to rebuild. I'm not sure which I'm going to do yet.
I bought the American Dream...at least I had it on lay-away. I've got too much shit, way too much shit. I've only spent two months of my marriage living authentically; the two months between when Mark almost died and when he did. During that time my energy wasn't wasted on stuff - it was devoted to people. I decided to forgive those that had harmed me the most. I forgave those that many people (including Mark) said were unforgivable. I did it for myself, for Mark, and for the child that we thought we would have. There was no way I could clearly love with the same heart that bore hatred/anger towards others.
Mark frequently said that it would be worth sacrificing his life if he could take out Bush and Cheney (and their whole corrupt administration). We often think of those things that we would DIE for, but what/who would we LIVE for?
We go around thinking we can each just do our job, go home, watch reality tv, and somehow the whole world works. It isn't working. It isn't enough. If you truly love, you've got to do something for the larger world. Volunteer, vote, do something more.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Wings of Desire
One of the eerie similarities that Mark and I had surfaced when he asked me what my favorite movie was. I told him "Wings of Desire". His face went white (even whiter than usual). It's an artistic German film that probably 1% of Americans have seen, and it was also Mark's favorite movie (or it was at the time). The plot was about an angel who in the course of his "duties" sees an acrobat in a circus and falls in love with her. Angels have a good life....free from all of the hassles that we encounter, but they're apparently not immune to longing and desire. He loves her so much that he wants to rid himself of his wings and become a mere mortal again - a huge step down. I remember walking out of the Uptown theater and having all of my senses altered from the movie. Peoples' voices sounded like they were coming out of a tunnel...I felt like I could hear every footstep I made, and everything not directly in front of me went hazy. I've never had an experience like that since...probably better than a mushroom trip (I have no basis of comparison, sadly).
Buddhists believe that the root of all pain is longing and desire. I've studied religions but have found mankind to be so fallible...how can humans create a belief system that is true? I used to have a strong belief in a higher power and in an afterlife - but when realize that you were sleeping while your husband was dying next to you...it tends to erode your faith. I'm told that he's in a better place. My response is that when he was alive the best place in the world was alongside me. Nevertheless, I do agree that desire causes pain. If I didn't desire to have Mark back so much, I wouldn't have such pain. So - I guess the root of that is that joy ultimately causes pain. Every relationship we have is going to end. We can choose to focus on the joy or the pain. Right now, the pendulum switches back and forth. I choose to focus on the joy, but sometimes emotions have a mind of their own.
I do know this, I would abdicate "angeldom" and return to earth for those few people that I love dearly. I think Mark would too - but sadly that isn't an option in real life, or death. The only option we have is to love freely with our whole heart - we're all vulnerable anyway, so why not just lay your cards out on the table?
In the day to day life of relationships those joys and pains become dulled by the drudgery of existence. Try to bring some joy back into your life, and your loved one's life today. If you can't create it - at least reminisce about it.
Monday, October 27, 2008
A Perfect Storm
The election is less than two weeks away now, and I've just managed to blow away any "widow" sympathy that I had within my neighborhood.
We live among rabid Republicans. In the past, we've posted the sole Democratic yard signs, and have them stolen. About one week before Mark passed away he said that he wanted to put up a sign stating "We told you so! Bush stunk, this time vote for Obama". I went to Kinkos and had the poster printed and clear wrapped, and posted it along with an Obama sign in the middle of my yard. I expect it will be stolen soon. Like last time, I'll replace it with 10 signs.
Mark had a life list of things to do. He loved Gorillas...he admired their remarkable combination of strength with gentleness. If only our nation shared similar values. He wanted to see them in the wild. He wanted to go to Morocco, and he wanted to drive a Ferraria, at least for a day.
There are two things that anyone who knew Mark would know: 1. Mark was VERY politically passionate. He was very well informed, and spent hours a day gathering information. 2. Mark LOVED Bob Dylan. We have just about every book about him, and several hundred albums, DVDs, and CDs (both legitimate and bootlegs). The first song we danced to was "Emotionally Yours", which was also the first song on our wedding CD. He would get tears in his eyes when he would explain what certain Dylan songs meant to him. We would drive anywhere within reason to see him play. He would vigorously defend him when people would say "he's a great songwriter, but he doesn't sing well".
On November 4th Mark would have had a "perfect storm". It is expected currently that Obama will win the presidency. Mark would have been ELATED! Bob Dylan is playing nearby, and of course we would have seen him. That would have been a perfect night for Mark, the two of us, seeing Bob Dylan on the night that the country starts pulling its collective head out of their ass.
Of course, I have tickets. Without him, it is going to be the ultimate bittersweet experience. I won't be with Mark during the perfect storm, but I will be with friends and my brother. That's still a pretty good deal.
I used to tell Mark that he existed within my heart. He went everywhere that I went. He's alive until my last heart beat. Mark was deprived of being a father, of our growing old together, achieving so many things he was nearing. He won't be seeing the gorillas. But he will see Bob Dylan. This is my mission: At some point in my life I am going to personally meet Bob. I will send a barrage of emails to whomever may be appropriate, make as many phone calls as I need to. Anyone who knows me knows that once I make up my mind, I don't let go. I may not succeed, but it won't be for lack of effort. If I am near Bob, Mark will be near his idol. I only wish I could have done it for him when he was alive. Mark not only loved his music, but deeply respected him as a person.
I would have done anything for Mark when he was alive, but the day to day reality of life's responsibilities distracted me sometimes. It hurts to be doing this for him when he's gone.
Just once in a while, do something spectacular for those that you love. Remind them that they're worth moving mountains for. It need not be expensive or grand, only authentic and from the heart.
We live among rabid Republicans. In the past, we've posted the sole Democratic yard signs, and have them stolen. About one week before Mark passed away he said that he wanted to put up a sign stating "We told you so! Bush stunk, this time vote for Obama". I went to Kinkos and had the poster printed and clear wrapped, and posted it along with an Obama sign in the middle of my yard. I expect it will be stolen soon. Like last time, I'll replace it with 10 signs.
Mark had a life list of things to do. He loved Gorillas...he admired their remarkable combination of strength with gentleness. If only our nation shared similar values. He wanted to see them in the wild. He wanted to go to Morocco, and he wanted to drive a Ferraria, at least for a day.
There are two things that anyone who knew Mark would know: 1. Mark was VERY politically passionate. He was very well informed, and spent hours a day gathering information. 2. Mark LOVED Bob Dylan. We have just about every book about him, and several hundred albums, DVDs, and CDs (both legitimate and bootlegs). The first song we danced to was "Emotionally Yours", which was also the first song on our wedding CD. He would get tears in his eyes when he would explain what certain Dylan songs meant to him. We would drive anywhere within reason to see him play. He would vigorously defend him when people would say "he's a great songwriter, but he doesn't sing well".
On November 4th Mark would have had a "perfect storm". It is expected currently that Obama will win the presidency. Mark would have been ELATED! Bob Dylan is playing nearby, and of course we would have seen him. That would have been a perfect night for Mark, the two of us, seeing Bob Dylan on the night that the country starts pulling its collective head out of their ass.
Of course, I have tickets. Without him, it is going to be the ultimate bittersweet experience. I won't be with Mark during the perfect storm, but I will be with friends and my brother. That's still a pretty good deal.
I used to tell Mark that he existed within my heart. He went everywhere that I went. He's alive until my last heart beat. Mark was deprived of being a father, of our growing old together, achieving so many things he was nearing. He won't be seeing the gorillas. But he will see Bob Dylan. This is my mission: At some point in my life I am going to personally meet Bob. I will send a barrage of emails to whomever may be appropriate, make as many phone calls as I need to. Anyone who knows me knows that once I make up my mind, I don't let go. I may not succeed, but it won't be for lack of effort. If I am near Bob, Mark will be near his idol. I only wish I could have done it for him when he was alive. Mark not only loved his music, but deeply respected him as a person.
I would have done anything for Mark when he was alive, but the day to day reality of life's responsibilities distracted me sometimes. It hurts to be doing this for him when he's gone.
Just once in a while, do something spectacular for those that you love. Remind them that they're worth moving mountains for. It need not be expensive or grand, only authentic and from the heart.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Game Playing
aI frequently play computer games in the morning as I wait for my medicine to kick in. I don't like losing. I never have. When I was young we would all play cards at the cabin during the summer. I was the only one so intent on winning that I would get a headache. I'm quite willing to quit my computer game and restart a new one if it looks unlikely that I'm going to win.
I never once considered "quitting" Mark. That isn't to say that I didn't consider temporarily leaving so that we could each get the help we needed to make us work individually and jointly better. We went through a rough spell, as most marriages do. I never followed through with it. I couldn't have even left him for 24 hours.
I've recently received the negatives to our wedding pictures and I've spent hours today looking at us...so happy and so oblivious to the pain that was to come. The arguments, misunderstandings, health problems and the untimely death. Many of the arguments were unbeknownst to me caused by the tumor that ultimately led to his death. On the flip side, there were multitudes more good times together. The best of times were not the trips to NY or Europe. They were canoeing together, laying in bed laughing at a tv show, discussing how much we hated the status-quo in politics. We connected...mind, body and soul. Loyalty, love, and respect trumped any argument. Those qualities now seem to only aggravate my grief. He fit me like a glove, and now I feel like I'm an irregular.
As I look at my younger self, it doesn't even occur to me that I should have stayed with my original plan - to just become immersed in being a lawyer. In this game of life I changed suits; from clubs to hearts and I don't regret it. I played the game with Mark, and I won. I always knew I would win staying with him. I don't feel like a winner right now. I have puffed up red eyes with a heart that literally hurts, but Mark left me with so much...memories, enlightenment, and love. I'm a lucky woman to have found a true soul mate.
When times get rough, fight for your love.
I never once considered "quitting" Mark. That isn't to say that I didn't consider temporarily leaving so that we could each get the help we needed to make us work individually and jointly better. We went through a rough spell, as most marriages do. I never followed through with it. I couldn't have even left him for 24 hours.
I've recently received the negatives to our wedding pictures and I've spent hours today looking at us...so happy and so oblivious to the pain that was to come. The arguments, misunderstandings, health problems and the untimely death. Many of the arguments were unbeknownst to me caused by the tumor that ultimately led to his death. On the flip side, there were multitudes more good times together. The best of times were not the trips to NY or Europe. They were canoeing together, laying in bed laughing at a tv show, discussing how much we hated the status-quo in politics. We connected...mind, body and soul. Loyalty, love, and respect trumped any argument. Those qualities now seem to only aggravate my grief. He fit me like a glove, and now I feel like I'm an irregular.
As I look at my younger self, it doesn't even occur to me that I should have stayed with my original plan - to just become immersed in being a lawyer. In this game of life I changed suits; from clubs to hearts and I don't regret it. I played the game with Mark, and I won. I always knew I would win staying with him. I don't feel like a winner right now. I have puffed up red eyes with a heart that literally hurts, but Mark left me with so much...memories, enlightenment, and love. I'm a lucky woman to have found a true soul mate.
When times get rough, fight for your love.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Creature of Habit?
For the past two nights I have finally slept more than 3 hours. Saturday night I slept 14 hours and woke up more tired than I have felt in months. Every night when I go to bed I've been tolerating Libby jumping in bed with me. When we first got Hoover, Mark was ambivalent about getting a dog and one of "his rules" was that "the dog" wasn't going to be allowed in bed. I had no issue with that. Within one week of getting Hoover Mark was sneaking him into bed. When I would protest and say that we agreed "no dogs in bed", Mark would run into the other bedroom with Hoover, get into the guest bed and state that the rule only applied to OUR bed. He'd get his snuggle time in, and put Hoover back in his housebreaking crate and come back to bed.
Within a month, even by Mark's redefinition, he was breaking the rules. Hoover was allowed in bed. I was the one protesting it - as much as I love dogs, I love my pristine sheets and bed too. Hoover never spent the night in bed, just hung out for about 15 minutes after we stopped paying attention to him then he'd jump and sleep alongside the bed. Then we got Libby, and she bonded with Mark slightly more than me. Libby being "small" at only 50 pounds (compared to Hoover's 90), I found myself protesting less vociferously. Over time, Libby began to literally sleep on top of Mark...all night. I'd protest that with his sleep apnea it wasn't a good idea....but really I was probably just jealous that another "woman" was owning my man. Libby was absolutely devoted to Mark.
When I woke up this morning I realized that Libby has been sleeping in the exact same position as she did when Mark was here, and she did last night also. She was essentially still sleeping on top of him. Maybe she knows something I don't...that maybe the reason I've been able to sleep the last couple nights is because he's here. Or maybe she's just a creature of habit.
We're all creatures of habit, and it's easy to forget how remarkable our loved ones are. Look at them afresh, remember those "golden moments" and bring some of those back into your daily life. Some habits are good, but don't devolve to taking your loved ones for granted.
Within a month, even by Mark's redefinition, he was breaking the rules. Hoover was allowed in bed. I was the one protesting it - as much as I love dogs, I love my pristine sheets and bed too. Hoover never spent the night in bed, just hung out for about 15 minutes after we stopped paying attention to him then he'd jump and sleep alongside the bed. Then we got Libby, and she bonded with Mark slightly more than me. Libby being "small" at only 50 pounds (compared to Hoover's 90), I found myself protesting less vociferously. Over time, Libby began to literally sleep on top of Mark...all night. I'd protest that with his sleep apnea it wasn't a good idea....but really I was probably just jealous that another "woman" was owning my man. Libby was absolutely devoted to Mark.
When I woke up this morning I realized that Libby has been sleeping in the exact same position as she did when Mark was here, and she did last night also. She was essentially still sleeping on top of him. Maybe she knows something I don't...that maybe the reason I've been able to sleep the last couple nights is because he's here. Or maybe she's just a creature of habit.
We're all creatures of habit, and it's easy to forget how remarkable our loved ones are. Look at them afresh, remember those "golden moments" and bring some of those back into your daily life. Some habits are good, but don't devolve to taking your loved ones for granted.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Fifty One things I miss, One I don't miss about Mark
Things I miss about Mark:
1. He started every day thinking of one kind thing to do for me.
2. He actually did (at least) one kind thing each day.
3. He loved me unconditionally.
4. That he taught me to love him unconditionally (not "loved", because I still do).
5. During the winter, he would lie on my half of the bed to pre-warm it for me.
6. He was one of two people that I know that could out-smart me.
7. His passion for music - he existed in a whole different world with it.
8. His disgust for Republicans (or fascists as he called them).
9. His razor sharp sense of humor.
10. The cup of coffee that he would bring me every morning.
11. The way he let me take care of him when he was down.
12. His laugh. Every time I heard it I knew that all was well in my world.
13. How every time I was gardening and he was home he would BLARE his music because he knew I hated listening to anything that loud.
14. How every time he cooked he managed to use every utensil and pot and pan in the house.
15. How he tried to cook for me.
16. How much he loved and respected his mother, and the rest of his family.
17. His loud burping...yes, I complained about it then, but I miss it now.
18. When he would remind me that "we're on the same team".
19. The feeling of being whole with him.
20. His beautiful brown eyes.
21. His smile that could always melt my heart.
22. How he existed on a whole different plane from anyone else I knew. Too brilliant for this world. He often acted like the "absent minded professor".
23. The silly excuses he would find when our "monthly anniversary would fall on the weekend so that he could go get a bouquet of flowers. Classics such as: I'm going to get some beef jerky, I'm going to look at fishing lures, I need to go to Ace Hardware to look for a new thingamajig.
24. That he would always remember the 11th of the month and walk in the door with a bouquet of flowers beaming.
25. How he would always call flowers that had good scent: "they stink good".
26. Making love to him (sorry, but we were married!).
27. That he always encouraged the best in me - he knew when I was going to lose my temper with someone else and would ask me to calm down.
28. That he tolerated the worst in me, he said I was a "great package deal".
29. That we could be emotionally naked with each other - we could state politically incorrect statements because we KNEW who each other was.
30. That he wasn't racist, sexist, or nationalistic.
31. That he loved his country enough to condemn its recent atrocities.
32. Holding his hand when we walked.
33. Feeling his hand on my back, or his foot on my leg...always some part touching me when we slept.
34. Feeling secure with him.
35. Knowing with absolute certainty that he would never be unfaithful.
36. Having him somehow believe that HE was lucky to have ME (fool...I was the lucky one).
37. Being able to just be with him...not having to talk.
38. That wink that he first gave me when we were marrying that always communicated that he loved me and that everything was fine.
39. His voice announcing that he was home.
40. How he would rub my head until I fell asleep because he knew it alleviated my chronic pain.
41. Waking up to him.
42. How he always sought the truth - never believed untrue rumors and would "fact check" everything.
43. Everywhere I went, looking for something that he would like.
44. Connecting with him emotionally.
45. Having lunch with him during work days.
46. The lazy days we spent together...staying in jammies all day.
47. The passion he had for New York and London.
48. How much he always strove to be a better person (though others would be lucky to achieve his level).
49. Picking up his dirty laundry that he "hid" under his side of the bed.
50. The sight of our bathrobes hanging next to each other on the bathroom door.
51. Him - the whole package, good and bad. All together it was great.
One Thing I don't Miss about him:
1. The sound of nail clippers while he meticulously trimmed his nails during a show I was watching.
Remember, those things that make you upset about someone you love are going to be the things that you miss one day. Overlook the minor inconveniences, deal with the real problems head on, and have no regrets with your loved ones.
1. He started every day thinking of one kind thing to do for me.
2. He actually did (at least) one kind thing each day.
3. He loved me unconditionally.
4. That he taught me to love him unconditionally (not "loved", because I still do).
5. During the winter, he would lie on my half of the bed to pre-warm it for me.
6. He was one of two people that I know that could out-smart me.
7. His passion for music - he existed in a whole different world with it.
8. His disgust for Republicans (or fascists as he called them).
9. His razor sharp sense of humor.
10. The cup of coffee that he would bring me every morning.
11. The way he let me take care of him when he was down.
12. His laugh. Every time I heard it I knew that all was well in my world.
13. How every time I was gardening and he was home he would BLARE his music because he knew I hated listening to anything that loud.
14. How every time he cooked he managed to use every utensil and pot and pan in the house.
15. How he tried to cook for me.
16. How much he loved and respected his mother, and the rest of his family.
17. His loud burping...yes, I complained about it then, but I miss it now.
18. When he would remind me that "we're on the same team".
19. The feeling of being whole with him.
20. His beautiful brown eyes.
21. His smile that could always melt my heart.
22. How he existed on a whole different plane from anyone else I knew. Too brilliant for this world. He often acted like the "absent minded professor".
23. The silly excuses he would find when our "monthly anniversary would fall on the weekend so that he could go get a bouquet of flowers. Classics such as: I'm going to get some beef jerky, I'm going to look at fishing lures, I need to go to Ace Hardware to look for a new thingamajig.
24. That he would always remember the 11th of the month and walk in the door with a bouquet of flowers beaming.
25. How he would always call flowers that had good scent: "they stink good".
26. Making love to him (sorry, but we were married!).
27. That he always encouraged the best in me - he knew when I was going to lose my temper with someone else and would ask me to calm down.
28. That he tolerated the worst in me, he said I was a "great package deal".
29. That we could be emotionally naked with each other - we could state politically incorrect statements because we KNEW who each other was.
30. That he wasn't racist, sexist, or nationalistic.
31. That he loved his country enough to condemn its recent atrocities.
32. Holding his hand when we walked.
33. Feeling his hand on my back, or his foot on my leg...always some part touching me when we slept.
34. Feeling secure with him.
35. Knowing with absolute certainty that he would never be unfaithful.
36. Having him somehow believe that HE was lucky to have ME (fool...I was the lucky one).
37. Being able to just be with him...not having to talk.
38. That wink that he first gave me when we were marrying that always communicated that he loved me and that everything was fine.
39. His voice announcing that he was home.
40. How he would rub my head until I fell asleep because he knew it alleviated my chronic pain.
41. Waking up to him.
42. How he always sought the truth - never believed untrue rumors and would "fact check" everything.
43. Everywhere I went, looking for something that he would like.
44. Connecting with him emotionally.
45. Having lunch with him during work days.
46. The lazy days we spent together...staying in jammies all day.
47. The passion he had for New York and London.
48. How much he always strove to be a better person (though others would be lucky to achieve his level).
49. Picking up his dirty laundry that he "hid" under his side of the bed.
50. The sight of our bathrobes hanging next to each other on the bathroom door.
51. Him - the whole package, good and bad. All together it was great.
One Thing I don't Miss about him:
1. The sound of nail clippers while he meticulously trimmed his nails during a show I was watching.
Remember, those things that make you upset about someone you love are going to be the things that you miss one day. Overlook the minor inconveniences, deal with the real problems head on, and have no regrets with your loved ones.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Till death do us part?
I can't claim to have any sense of prescience, but the last words I said to Mark (in an effort to calm him down) were our wedding vows. I was trying to get him in a calm, happy zone so he could sleep, and then I could also. So, the last words I said to Mark was "till death do us part". At times it gives me chills. The odd thing is that death hasn't parted us...or at least it hasn't parted me from him. Part of me walks in the living world, the other part is with him...in whatever world does or does not exist. We were more mature than most people when we married, and it was the first (and in our minds ONLY) marriage for both of us. I still believe that. I am Mark's wife. I will always be his wife. Death doesn't end a marriage, lack of devotion and respect does.
But I no longer have Mark here - the man who would try to call in sick so he could lay in bed with me when I was sick (which I usually vociferously and successfully argued against). He would groggily wake up at 3 a.m. to take me to the E.R. the few times I needed to go, hold my hand the entire time, and go to work with almost no sleep. The devotion ran both ways. When he was in the intensive care unit and on a respirator I touched him the whole time. I wanted him to know, even before he opened his eyes, that I was there. He said that he remembered little else about that time except that I was there. It was easy being that devoted to him...he inspired it, not only in me but in his family.
These were not acts of sacrifice. He WAS my other half. How could I have been anywhere else? Whenever Mark would have an episode and I had to go to work with 3 hours of sleep, I was more concerned about what could have been wrong with him then put out because I was tired. There is nothing he could have done that would have made being without him better than being with him.
I always knew that I had something special; but I did take him for granted at times. After being with someone exceptional for years, sometimes I forgot that he was one in a billion. I forgot that he was the guy who fit the contours of my heart perfectly. We were at home in each other's hearts. Sometimes I forgot that I existed in as vulnerable place inside him as he did in me. I know it acutely now. I'm homeless, I live nowhere. More importantly, I have an empty house that nobody else lives in. Mark took up the whole house, and it can't be filled with that joy and devotion again...or at least not for a while. I wasn't looking for love when I met Mark, but I sure got it. And while I feel empty at times, at other times I feel like I will always have a part of Mark with me. I will always feel his love and devotion, and I will always have my love for him. So many people have never had that, either because they aren't capable of it or because they haven't found the right "fit". I am both wonderfully lucky, and terribly unlucky at the same time.
Remind someone you love that they're exceptional and that you are devoted to them. Don't take them for granted.
But I no longer have Mark here - the man who would try to call in sick so he could lay in bed with me when I was sick (which I usually vociferously and successfully argued against). He would groggily wake up at 3 a.m. to take me to the E.R. the few times I needed to go, hold my hand the entire time, and go to work with almost no sleep. The devotion ran both ways. When he was in the intensive care unit and on a respirator I touched him the whole time. I wanted him to know, even before he opened his eyes, that I was there. He said that he remembered little else about that time except that I was there. It was easy being that devoted to him...he inspired it, not only in me but in his family.
These were not acts of sacrifice. He WAS my other half. How could I have been anywhere else? Whenever Mark would have an episode and I had to go to work with 3 hours of sleep, I was more concerned about what could have been wrong with him then put out because I was tired. There is nothing he could have done that would have made being without him better than being with him.
I always knew that I had something special; but I did take him for granted at times. After being with someone exceptional for years, sometimes I forgot that he was one in a billion. I forgot that he was the guy who fit the contours of my heart perfectly. We were at home in each other's hearts. Sometimes I forgot that I existed in as vulnerable place inside him as he did in me. I know it acutely now. I'm homeless, I live nowhere. More importantly, I have an empty house that nobody else lives in. Mark took up the whole house, and it can't be filled with that joy and devotion again...or at least not for a while. I wasn't looking for love when I met Mark, but I sure got it. And while I feel empty at times, at other times I feel like I will always have a part of Mark with me. I will always feel his love and devotion, and I will always have my love for him. So many people have never had that, either because they aren't capable of it or because they haven't found the right "fit". I am both wonderfully lucky, and terribly unlucky at the same time.
Remind someone you love that they're exceptional and that you are devoted to them. Don't take them for granted.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Out of the mouths of babes
I'm not sure what I would have done without my neighbors, Chris and Rich. From the moment I stumbled out of the house as the paramedics tried to bring back Mark, Chris was there. She stayed for hours that day. One of the few bright spots in the last few months has been getting to know their family better, and our frequent visits. Not only have they done many kind things for me, but more importantly they are kind, good people.
Last week their 3 year old daughter, Cally, was in our driveway when she heard sirens and said that someone's in trouble. Having the distinct memory of sirens, an ambulance, firemen and policemen pulling up en masse in my driveway weeks before...her words felt like a punch to my stomach. She was right though, someone was in trouble. Whether they were being chased, or they needed assistance, they were in trouble. I used to silently wish someone well every time I heard a siren. Now I cringe...the sirens have become personal. I know what it feels like to hear them coming toward my house, to hear them in the distance and then get louder and louder, until there's a loud knock at your door. I want it all to be just a bad dream. I try to ignore sirens now. I turn up the radio, hum to myself....anything. Kids don't say things in nuances. They say the simple. Someone's in trouble. She was right.
Then this week Cally was playing in the dirt when she offhandedly asked me why Mark got sick. I don't know why! I've asked WHY a million fricking times! But I'm asking in a completely different sense. He got sick because some cruel power decided that just when things were coming together for him, he should be struck down. Just as he was coming out of a long bout of depression, and reclaiming himself, he was wiped out. Just when we had started to work out how to handle our individual and joint weaknesses, he's gone. Just as his career was heading toward an exciting time of growth, he vanishes. I will never have another soul mate like him. I will never have someone who unconditionally loved me like him. And I will never have a three year old daughter with beautiful blue eyes who will ask me simple questions that will stump me.
So, the answer was that "Mark had an owie that we didn't know about". It seemed to satisfy her...if only it satisfied me.
Treasure your loved ones - poverty with someone you love...is rich, wealth without your loved one is worthless.
Natalia
Last week their 3 year old daughter, Cally, was in our driveway when she heard sirens and said that someone's in trouble. Having the distinct memory of sirens, an ambulance, firemen and policemen pulling up en masse in my driveway weeks before...her words felt like a punch to my stomach. She was right though, someone was in trouble. Whether they were being chased, or they needed assistance, they were in trouble. I used to silently wish someone well every time I heard a siren. Now I cringe...the sirens have become personal. I know what it feels like to hear them coming toward my house, to hear them in the distance and then get louder and louder, until there's a loud knock at your door. I want it all to be just a bad dream. I try to ignore sirens now. I turn up the radio, hum to myself....anything. Kids don't say things in nuances. They say the simple. Someone's in trouble. She was right.
Then this week Cally was playing in the dirt when she offhandedly asked me why Mark got sick. I don't know why! I've asked WHY a million fricking times! But I'm asking in a completely different sense. He got sick because some cruel power decided that just when things were coming together for him, he should be struck down. Just as he was coming out of a long bout of depression, and reclaiming himself, he was wiped out. Just when we had started to work out how to handle our individual and joint weaknesses, he's gone. Just as his career was heading toward an exciting time of growth, he vanishes. I will never have another soul mate like him. I will never have someone who unconditionally loved me like him. And I will never have a three year old daughter with beautiful blue eyes who will ask me simple questions that will stump me.
So, the answer was that "Mark had an owie that we didn't know about". It seemed to satisfy her...if only it satisfied me.
Treasure your loved ones - poverty with someone you love...is rich, wealth without your loved one is worthless.
Natalia
Monday, September 22, 2008
The most awful day of the month
Today is the 22nd. The second time that I've replayed every moment of this date in my head. Mark has been gone for two months now. There are buildings which go directly from the 12th floor to the 14th floor, why can't we just skip the 22nd of the month?
I couldn't even get out of bed until 11:00 - the poor dogs were begging to go outside. The world felt so diferent when Mark was here - someone had my back. As much as I know certain people do care...nobody cares about me the way Mark did, and I don't care about anyone else the way that I cared for Mark. There are things that I would overlook, things that I would do for Mark that I wouldn't do for anyone. I boiled a live lobster for his 40th birthday! He was constantly in my thoughts.... How stressed out is he at work, does he need me to go there for lunch today? What would he like for dinner? Any time I went to the store I was always looking for what he liked. I wasn't a martyr by any means....that's just normal when you love someone. And I know that he was the same way. Now there's nothing, and it's unbearable.
Every day I break down and cry hysterically, every day I tell Mark I miss him. Then I start to feel guilty. If I was feeling bad, he did everything in his power to make me feel better. If he is watching me, how is he possibly at peace seeing how unhappy I am? Maybe I need to "get over this" so he can be at peace. What could I have done differently so that he would still be here? Three seconds....less even, the difference between life and death. How in the damn world do I go back in time, and change three seconds? Did some part of me know that he might die? Mark's last night was not peaceful....he was agitated, restless is an understatement. In an effort to calm him I talked of the future...of a beautiful child waiting for him when he came home that would have the best of both of us. A child that would have been raised with parents that were learning what unconditional love really was....and had the best in both of us. I then talked to him about the past. The happiest day in our lives, 08/11/01. I repeated my vow to him, "In sickness and in health, until death do us part". Those were the last words I said to him, the very last words. It gives me a little comfort, but just as much guilt. IF ONLY!!!!!! A different decision here or there...the guilt eats away at me like acid through a sweet tart. I don't want it to erode me, I don't want to become embittered. So, I have to deal with it....and I'm ill equipped. I forgave Mark countless times in our marriage...somehow I'm going to have to forgive myself. I have to, or there will be nothing left of what Mark loved in me - my heart.
There's a stupid "bereavement support group" tonight nearby. Ironically right across the street from where Mark was in ICU and ended up walking out of the hospital perfectly well, only to pass away two months later. There's another support group at the church which we wed. Great...full service place - we join you in marriage and then tell you it's all okay when they die less than 7 years later. All of these places feel tainted to me, and I want to avoid them.
Forgive the ones you love. Nothing is unforgiveable.
Natalia
I couldn't even get out of bed until 11:00 - the poor dogs were begging to go outside. The world felt so diferent when Mark was here - someone had my back. As much as I know certain people do care...nobody cares about me the way Mark did, and I don't care about anyone else the way that I cared for Mark. There are things that I would overlook, things that I would do for Mark that I wouldn't do for anyone. I boiled a live lobster for his 40th birthday! He was constantly in my thoughts.... How stressed out is he at work, does he need me to go there for lunch today? What would he like for dinner? Any time I went to the store I was always looking for what he liked. I wasn't a martyr by any means....that's just normal when you love someone. And I know that he was the same way. Now there's nothing, and it's unbearable.
Every day I break down and cry hysterically, every day I tell Mark I miss him. Then I start to feel guilty. If I was feeling bad, he did everything in his power to make me feel better. If he is watching me, how is he possibly at peace seeing how unhappy I am? Maybe I need to "get over this" so he can be at peace. What could I have done differently so that he would still be here? Three seconds....less even, the difference between life and death. How in the damn world do I go back in time, and change three seconds? Did some part of me know that he might die? Mark's last night was not peaceful....he was agitated, restless is an understatement. In an effort to calm him I talked of the future...of a beautiful child waiting for him when he came home that would have the best of both of us. A child that would have been raised with parents that were learning what unconditional love really was....and had the best in both of us. I then talked to him about the past. The happiest day in our lives, 08/11/01. I repeated my vow to him, "In sickness and in health, until death do us part". Those were the last words I said to him, the very last words. It gives me a little comfort, but just as much guilt. IF ONLY!!!!!! A different decision here or there...the guilt eats away at me like acid through a sweet tart. I don't want it to erode me, I don't want to become embittered. So, I have to deal with it....and I'm ill equipped. I forgave Mark countless times in our marriage...somehow I'm going to have to forgive myself. I have to, or there will be nothing left of what Mark loved in me - my heart.
There's a stupid "bereavement support group" tonight nearby. Ironically right across the street from where Mark was in ICU and ended up walking out of the hospital perfectly well, only to pass away two months later. There's another support group at the church which we wed. Great...full service place - we join you in marriage and then tell you it's all okay when they die less than 7 years later. All of these places feel tainted to me, and I want to avoid them.
Forgive the ones you love. Nothing is unforgiveable.
Natalia
Friday, September 19, 2008
Fear
I've been taking Valium a bit more than usual lately. I wish it could make me numb in the way that the first few weeks after Mark left were. Just when I'm faced with so many decisions, I'm overwhelmed with fears that I never had. Mark was always here.
I feel so stupid - SO STUPID! I used to try to console Mark that everything would be okay. For every problem we faced I'd lay out the "worst case scenario". It would never include anything like this...it would always be something to the extent that we'd sell the house and rent for a few years. DUMB stuff like that. That was really the worst that I thought could happen. My husband was 43 years old...he's going to stick around for at least another 3o years. That just doesn't happen; not in my world of "worst case scenarios".
So, on July 22nd, when I sat in the front lawn in my pajamas and was told that Mark didn't make it...my world fell apart. My worst case scenarios were just a joke. Thinking of the real worst case scenario would have been impossible. I could not have imagined this world...never. So, as I'm trying to navigate through a web of decisions I not only feel all alone, but I'm full of fear...what is the real "worst case scenario" here? What do I do?
Mark, are you really okay? Are you at peace? Do you know how much I love you? Do you know how much your family loves you? Do you now know how special and irreplaceable you are? If I could get answers to all of those questions, I would feel just a moment of relief from fears.
I miss you Mark.
Drop your fears and open your heart to someone you love...just a little means a lot.
Natalia
I feel so stupid - SO STUPID! I used to try to console Mark that everything would be okay. For every problem we faced I'd lay out the "worst case scenario". It would never include anything like this...it would always be something to the extent that we'd sell the house and rent for a few years. DUMB stuff like that. That was really the worst that I thought could happen. My husband was 43 years old...he's going to stick around for at least another 3o years. That just doesn't happen; not in my world of "worst case scenarios".
So, on July 22nd, when I sat in the front lawn in my pajamas and was told that Mark didn't make it...my world fell apart. My worst case scenarios were just a joke. Thinking of the real worst case scenario would have been impossible. I could not have imagined this world...never. So, as I'm trying to navigate through a web of decisions I not only feel all alone, but I'm full of fear...what is the real "worst case scenario" here? What do I do?
Mark, are you really okay? Are you at peace? Do you know how much I love you? Do you know how much your family loves you? Do you now know how special and irreplaceable you are? If I could get answers to all of those questions, I would feel just a moment of relief from fears.
I miss you Mark.
Drop your fears and open your heart to someone you love...just a little means a lot.
Natalia
Monday, September 15, 2008
Happy Birthday Baby, Sad Anniversary for me.
This was one of the roughest weeks I've had in a long time. Last Monday I had to take a friend to the Mayo Clinic for a surgery. She needed to put on a pressure stocking before the operation, and I started to put it on her. I hesitated and looked for that bump on the ankle....the bump that Mark had from shattering his ankle and having major surgery, and the hardware had never been removed. It left a significant bump on his ankle. Every time I get into a nurturing frame of mind...it's supposed to be Mark that I'm taking care of.
So, I spent the better part of the day waiting to hear from her surgeons how everything went, and that voice in the back of my mind saying "I should be here waiting for Mark's surgery". It made me so sad...I was frequently going to the bathroom so I could cry in peace.
Then, we had the big 9/11 day. 9/11 was personal to both Mark & I. Mark was raised in Omaha, but NYC was his hometown in his heart. He lived there for six or seven years before he moved to Minneapolis. We should have high tailed it back to NYC after we met...I think he would have been happier there. Whenever he would talk about NYC....his eyes would shine. We honeymooned there just a few weeks before all of it happened. He could get lost in his own neighborhood in MN...but never in NYC. He knew it like the back of his hand. I'm glad that he went there a month before he passed away.
We also celebrated our anniversary monthly. On the 11th of every month Mark would come strolling in with a bouquet of flowers and a card...and that big sweet smile that would have been more than enough on its own. All of those factors combined with the public grieving over 9/11, talking heads, and news about it excruciating. I did my best to avoid as much as possible. They say that when one person yawns it's contagious....it tends to trigger a yawn in anyone who views it. Grief is like that too....watching crying family members on tv made me feel like crying. I used to feel empathy....now I feel IT.
Then, Mark's "Birthday Weekend". We always did a full weekend, usually before the birthday. I would have made all of his favorite foods, steak, lobster, beef stroganoff (I gave up trying to duplicate his mom's mostaccioli and meatballs), sometimes we'd go to a concert, and in general we'd do whatever he wanted to do. One day wasn't enough...we had to have a weekend plus. This is the first birthday without him. He would have been just 44 years old...it's just not fair, it's not right. I'm mad, and I'm sad. I want to SCREAM that a stupid mistake was made. THIS MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE!
I just hope that if he is somewhere, he knows that I love him with all of my heart, his whole family does. We're all grieving him - a man who questioned how important he really was. He was the world to me.
Remind those that you love how important they are. Everyone needs to feel important and special....and they are.
Natalia
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Entertaining ghosts
Up until a few months ago I used to be so happy that I would sing in my car...loudly and badly (I'm sure), even "drive dancing" if the music was good enough and I was happy enough. I would be on my way home to Mark, driving fast, and I was happy. Every now and then I thought that if there is life after death, my grandmother would be suffering through my singing, but then I suffered through hers at church...so I guess it all evens out. I'm sure she would have been laughing at me, dancing in my seat as I'm driving.
I haven't been that happy in the last few months - so I haven't been drive dancing/singing. I wonder if Mark is watching? Before Mark's death I had some belief in life continuing after death. I believed in god. Not in any religion, but god. Now, I just don't see how everything that has happened in the last few months can possibly co-exist along side a loving god.
I'm not sure when I'll ever sing again...but if I do, I hope Mark is watching me and gets a good laugh! I don't think I'm doing much else right now that would make him happy, except surviving. Maybe that's enough for now. I hope someday I'll be happy enough that I'll be able to entertain him, and he'll be able to smile that huge smile that melted me. Maybe I'll do the elevator jig, Mark.
Show your joy with someone you love - some smiles last for eternity in the memory.
Natalia
I haven't been that happy in the last few months - so I haven't been drive dancing/singing. I wonder if Mark is watching? Before Mark's death I had some belief in life continuing after death. I believed in god. Not in any religion, but god. Now, I just don't see how everything that has happened in the last few months can possibly co-exist along side a loving god.
I'm not sure when I'll ever sing again...but if I do, I hope Mark is watching me and gets a good laugh! I don't think I'm doing much else right now that would make him happy, except surviving. Maybe that's enough for now. I hope someday I'll be happy enough that I'll be able to entertain him, and he'll be able to smile that huge smile that melted me. Maybe I'll do the elevator jig, Mark.
Show your joy with someone you love - some smiles last for eternity in the memory.
Natalia
Abandonment
A friend of mine talked earlier today about difficulty she had when her boyfriend was out of town. She realized that she was having issues with abandonment, and is dealing with it in therapy.
Abandonment doesn't get any more permanent than to be left behind in this situation. I suppose it helps to know that Mark never chose to abandon me...but the net result is the same.
I've also been learning that certain friends are really there for what you can do for them. It's really hard because I put so much value into my friendships. But ultimately, if you're going to be a survivor, you're going to be abandoned time and time again. Mark was ALWAYS there for me. I hope I was always there for him...he didn't always make it clear when he needed me. I do know this much, nobody on this planet was more important than him, and he knew that in his heart. I chose him, and I never looked back.
Stay with the one you love - they're irreplaceable.
Natalia
Abandonment doesn't get any more permanent than to be left behind in this situation. I suppose it helps to know that Mark never chose to abandon me...but the net result is the same.
I've also been learning that certain friends are really there for what you can do for them. It's really hard because I put so much value into my friendships. But ultimately, if you're going to be a survivor, you're going to be abandoned time and time again. Mark was ALWAYS there for me. I hope I was always there for him...he didn't always make it clear when he needed me. I do know this much, nobody on this planet was more important than him, and he knew that in his heart. I chose him, and I never looked back.
Stay with the one you love - they're irreplaceable.
Natalia
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
One pill fixes all
I've been depressed once before, and when I realized it I told Mark that he needed to get me help because I wouldn't be able to do it myself. When it takes you 15 minutes to will yourself to grab the remote control...that's a pretty good clue. I caught it, he made the appointment, I went, and within a week I felt like myself again.
Not surprisingly given the last month or so, I'm depressed, and this time I had to catch it before it got to the point it did last time. I made the appointment myself. I don't think it's going to make me cry less, but maybe it will help make things seem less hopeless.
I see nothing good in the future. I'll never have another love like Mark - never. I'll never settle for something less. We used to say that we were so lucky...that so few people ever find that kind of deep love. It wasn't all smooth sailing...I wish I could say that, but we made mistakes. We did learn from them, and the last nine months were some of the best of our marriage. Maybe I should be grateful that I got something that most people never get - unconditional love in a marriage.
I'm not feeling particularly grateful these days. I'm angry, but more than anything else I'm feeling totally hopeless. I can't see anything good will ever come in my life again. I don't want a half ass love, so I won't have another relationship. I won't have children - something Mark and I were actively working on. Due to the increasing difficulty of my health over the last few years and our lack of life insurance, my "lifestyle" (if you can call it that) will be crap. Our beloved Hoover is 7 1/2 years old, and in the next couple years he will pass away. Most of my friends are a little bit older than me, my brother is older. By actuarial tables, I will likely outlive everyone. I'll be the crabby old lady at the nursing home that nobody comes to visit. I'll see everyone I care about die, and be left with nobody.
Everything was bearable with Mark by my side. Now, nothing is. I forget to feed my dogs...I forget to eat. Living is just a formality. So, I think I've come to the stunning conclusion that I'm depressed.
Never fear, I'm American, I'll get some shiney new pills and everything will be better. Husband dead? No problem, pills will solve everything.
Tell someone you love that you love them - they need to hear it, and you need to remember you said it.
Natalia
Not surprisingly given the last month or so, I'm depressed, and this time I had to catch it before it got to the point it did last time. I made the appointment myself. I don't think it's going to make me cry less, but maybe it will help make things seem less hopeless.
I see nothing good in the future. I'll never have another love like Mark - never. I'll never settle for something less. We used to say that we were so lucky...that so few people ever find that kind of deep love. It wasn't all smooth sailing...I wish I could say that, but we made mistakes. We did learn from them, and the last nine months were some of the best of our marriage. Maybe I should be grateful that I got something that most people never get - unconditional love in a marriage.
I'm not feeling particularly grateful these days. I'm angry, but more than anything else I'm feeling totally hopeless. I can't see anything good will ever come in my life again. I don't want a half ass love, so I won't have another relationship. I won't have children - something Mark and I were actively working on. Due to the increasing difficulty of my health over the last few years and our lack of life insurance, my "lifestyle" (if you can call it that) will be crap. Our beloved Hoover is 7 1/2 years old, and in the next couple years he will pass away. Most of my friends are a little bit older than me, my brother is older. By actuarial tables, I will likely outlive everyone. I'll be the crabby old lady at the nursing home that nobody comes to visit. I'll see everyone I care about die, and be left with nobody.
Everything was bearable with Mark by my side. Now, nothing is. I forget to feed my dogs...I forget to eat. Living is just a formality. So, I think I've come to the stunning conclusion that I'm depressed.
Never fear, I'm American, I'll get some shiney new pills and everything will be better. Husband dead? No problem, pills will solve everything.
Tell someone you love that you love them - they need to hear it, and you need to remember you said it.
Natalia
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Protest & inertia
Yesterday I went to the big protest against the Republican Convention, with a concert afterwards. One of Mark's big regrets was that he would want to do things, but he was just so laid back in nature that he wouldn't. So I went - more for Mark than for myself. Frankly, he wouldn't have done very well yesterday. It was quite hot and humid...and he was physically unable to tolerate heat. I used to think that he just needed to try harder....only after he died did I learn that he had a tumor which made him intolerant to heat. On several occasions during the protest I found myself missing Mark so much that I actually chose to go into those disgusting porta potties just so I could cry, and not look like a total idiot.
He was so passionate about music and politics - yet he could also be profoundly lazy about them. We'd have tickets for a concert...sometimes he wouldn't go. He always said that he just needed someone to push him; that he was almost always glad that he went. I understood because I have a little of that in me also. So yesterday I went for Mark, and it was hard. It's so hard not to have him here. It's hard not to hear his passionate views about how wrong our country is heading. He cared deeply - something we connected on. He didn't just follow politics and sit on the fence...he'd try to knock the fence down if he thought it was wrong.....he had very passionate convictions. Just as he passionately loved his family.
I want to believe that he's still with me, and at times I do - but it's not enough. His birthday is approaching in a bit more than a week. The depression is overwhelming, and more and more I'm understanding Mark's "lazy side". I don't want do do anything. I don't want to clean the house, I don't want to leave the house, I don't even want to feed the dogs. I just want to be with Mark. Is that really so much to ask?
Do something with someone you love today, you'll never regret the memories.
Natalia
He was so passionate about music and politics - yet he could also be profoundly lazy about them. We'd have tickets for a concert...sometimes he wouldn't go. He always said that he just needed someone to push him; that he was almost always glad that he went. I understood because I have a little of that in me also. So yesterday I went for Mark, and it was hard. It's so hard not to have him here. It's hard not to hear his passionate views about how wrong our country is heading. He cared deeply - something we connected on. He didn't just follow politics and sit on the fence...he'd try to knock the fence down if he thought it was wrong.....he had very passionate convictions. Just as he passionately loved his family.
I want to believe that he's still with me, and at times I do - but it's not enough. His birthday is approaching in a bit more than a week. The depression is overwhelming, and more and more I'm understanding Mark's "lazy side". I don't want do do anything. I don't want to clean the house, I don't want to leave the house, I don't even want to feed the dogs. I just want to be with Mark. Is that really so much to ask?
Do something with someone you love today, you'll never regret the memories.
Natalia
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Dirty laundry
Every day I walk down the stairs from my bedroom and my first thought is "what fresh kind of hell awaits me today?". I used to be an optimist. I was the one that always said that everything would be okay when Mark would say that the sky is falling. He was right in so many ways. He said that he would die young, he did. The sky really is falling - or at least it feels like it is all around me.
I tend to come from a background of dealing with problems by brushing the dust off of you and hopping right back in the saddle and finishing what you started. I've been brushing the dust off of me for weeks, and it seems like there's more of it, not less. Every day something innocuous pierces me. Today it's sorting dirty laundry. How is it that I can still be doing Mark's laundry four weeks after he passed away? I'm still finding socks...underwear, even jeans. It doesn't seem right that something so inconsequential as cotton should still be on my couch, while someone as important as Mark is six feet under. I'm raging mad - vacillating between believing that there is no god (I refuse to capitalize "g"), and feeling that if there is, I want to kick her/his ass. Either Nietzsche & Dostoevsky are right, and god is dead, or god has fallen asleep on the job - just look around you. Free will? Mark didn't choose to die of free will. The people being killed in Iraq aren't being killed because they willed it to be so. I used to have faith...not necessarily in a religion, but at least in a god.
Now all I have is orphaned socks, the feet that wore them is gone. The other half of my heart is gone, and I am pissed off about it.
Natalia
I tend to come from a background of dealing with problems by brushing the dust off of you and hopping right back in the saddle and finishing what you started. I've been brushing the dust off of me for weeks, and it seems like there's more of it, not less. Every day something innocuous pierces me. Today it's sorting dirty laundry. How is it that I can still be doing Mark's laundry four weeks after he passed away? I'm still finding socks...underwear, even jeans. It doesn't seem right that something so inconsequential as cotton should still be on my couch, while someone as important as Mark is six feet under. I'm raging mad - vacillating between believing that there is no god (I refuse to capitalize "g"), and feeling that if there is, I want to kick her/his ass. Either Nietzsche & Dostoevsky are right, and god is dead, or god has fallen asleep on the job - just look around you. Free will? Mark didn't choose to die of free will. The people being killed in Iraq aren't being killed because they willed it to be so. I used to have faith...not necessarily in a religion, but at least in a god.
Now all I have is orphaned socks, the feet that wore them is gone. The other half of my heart is gone, and I am pissed off about it.
Natalia
Friday, August 29, 2008
Music moves the soul
Anyone who knew Mark in the least knew that he loved music. Not like many of us... he was truly touched by it. I thought that I was passionate about music...his love eclipsed mine. He told me that he knew he was going to marry me when I mentioned that I loved Nick Cave. Mark wasn't an emotionally repressed man - but music nonetheless expressed things that he couldn't, which is odd because he was a literate man with an extensive vocabulary. He could hear things in music that would evade anyone else's ears.
There is a love song of Buddy Holly's that Mark put on our Wedding CD. Buddy met his wife and it was love at first sight. They moved to NYC and while he was recording this song his wife was vacuuming in the background. Mark was moved to tears that he could hear the sound of the vacuum (which I never could hear) - the sound of a woman going about her daily business, oblivious to the love that her husband is expressing.
I often think back to how oblivious I was to the many ways that Mark expressed himself. He wasn't "Mr. Industrious", but if anything involved bending over (which can be painful for me at times), he simply did it. He fed and watered the dogs every day. He always stocked the soda cans in the fridge. He also made me coffee every morning. There were so many ways...and while I never took him for granted, like Mrs. Holly, I did get wrapped up in the day to day chores...all the "must do's" that we create for ourselves. I would be "focusing on the vacuuming", while Mark was "singing a love song" about me. Ironically, Mrs. Holly also lost her husband suddenly and young.
I often told Mark that I would live in a tent with him and the dogs. I wish I would have evolved to understanding and telling him that I could have lived in this house in a messy state with him. I wasted so much time cleaning and working in the yard, when what Mark really just wanted was for me to be with him. The house may be a little cleaner now...but it's no longer a home.
Over the last week I've been listening to a new CD by an artist that Mark & I both like - "Mr. Love and Justice" by Billy Bragg. The title seems fitting for Mark - nothing p'd off Mark as much as injustice - and the Love part...I've already explained. I highly recommend this CD, but at times the songs are more than I can bear. The first song "I Keep Faith" is particularly touching. I just bought the CD a week ago - and if I didn't know better I would believe that Mark is singing to me though this song. I listened to it today...and like every day I yearned to have him here. I'd make any deal....just bring him back.
We have choices. We can choose to focus on all the "shiny objects" in our lives...the lists, the must-haves, gotta dos, or we can listen to the love songs that are going on around us. Just today....listen to the love songs. You may be surprised at what you hear.
Natalia
There is a love song of Buddy Holly's that Mark put on our Wedding CD. Buddy met his wife and it was love at first sight. They moved to NYC and while he was recording this song his wife was vacuuming in the background. Mark was moved to tears that he could hear the sound of the vacuum (which I never could hear) - the sound of a woman going about her daily business, oblivious to the love that her husband is expressing.
I often think back to how oblivious I was to the many ways that Mark expressed himself. He wasn't "Mr. Industrious", but if anything involved bending over (which can be painful for me at times), he simply did it. He fed and watered the dogs every day. He always stocked the soda cans in the fridge. He also made me coffee every morning. There were so many ways...and while I never took him for granted, like Mrs. Holly, I did get wrapped up in the day to day chores...all the "must do's" that we create for ourselves. I would be "focusing on the vacuuming", while Mark was "singing a love song" about me. Ironically, Mrs. Holly also lost her husband suddenly and young.
I often told Mark that I would live in a tent with him and the dogs. I wish I would have evolved to understanding and telling him that I could have lived in this house in a messy state with him. I wasted so much time cleaning and working in the yard, when what Mark really just wanted was for me to be with him. The house may be a little cleaner now...but it's no longer a home.
Over the last week I've been listening to a new CD by an artist that Mark & I both like - "Mr. Love and Justice" by Billy Bragg. The title seems fitting for Mark - nothing p'd off Mark as much as injustice - and the Love part...I've already explained. I highly recommend this CD, but at times the songs are more than I can bear. The first song "I Keep Faith" is particularly touching. I just bought the CD a week ago - and if I didn't know better I would believe that Mark is singing to me though this song. I listened to it today...and like every day I yearned to have him here. I'd make any deal....just bring him back.
We have choices. We can choose to focus on all the "shiny objects" in our lives...the lists, the must-haves, gotta dos, or we can listen to the love songs that are going on around us. Just today....listen to the love songs. You may be surprised at what you hear.
Natalia
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Insomnia
Five a.m., and as usual I've fallen asleep for half an hour several times - amounting to about two hours in total. My body physically knows that something is missing. I wake up; feeling his absence and the first thing in my mind is "where's Mark?". I've tried all the tricks; pillows, sleeping pills, even inviting our big dogs to "his spot". The few times that I do manage to get any sleep are when I am in the living room. How can I ever forgive myself for sleeping next to him while he slipped away...quietly away from me? If only I had just woken up an hour, two hours earlier...he would still be here. I can't see how I will ever sleep again...I won't, I can't. I miss Mark at all these hours. I miss hearing the white noise of his CPAP, seeing him sleeping peacefully next to me. I miss the feel of his hand. He would almost always be touching me barely, his foot or hand just barely touching me. I'm not sure if he was reassuring himself that I was here, or me that he was. All I know is that I miss him, and I'm tired.
Please let those that you love know it...they may not be here tomorrow. You don't have to be a saint...anger and disappointment are real. All you need to do to be better at expressing your love than your opinions, anger, or anything else. If you can scream in anger, than make sure you can scream twice as loud in love.
Natalia
Please let those that you love know it...they may not be here tomorrow. You don't have to be a saint...anger and disappointment are real. All you need to do to be better at expressing your love than your opinions, anger, or anything else. If you can scream in anger, than make sure you can scream twice as loud in love.
Natalia
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My first post
Today is just a bit after a month...after Mark. Society has used BC/AD to delineate time...my life's time is noted before Mark passed away, and after. Everything that we did when he was alive was "just a week ago" - but that can't be; since he's been gone for a month.
I'm not sure what I want in this blog...I've wanted to write to Mark for a while. I've always been terrible at journaling, I thought that if I made it writing to Mark then I would do it. Part of me wants to do that...knowing full well that he would roll his eyes and tell me that he's not here to read it. Part of me has also become almost evangelical about him...I need to tell everyone about him and how he taught me to love on a whole other level that I didn't know existed, within me or in the world. He never would have told it himself, he was far too modest and private.
I remember once that I told him that as long as my heart was beating he would be alive - because we shared hearts. I wish I really felt that now. His absence is overwhelming...I alternate between being overly attached to simple objects associated with him, and wanting to toss everything away and get out of this house. It hurts so much. I have never known such pain...I never could imagine it. On the exterior I appear whole, but it's a shell. Really, the moment that I was told that Mark died, a searing knife removed everything from inside me. I'm hollow now. I walk in this world, but don't really feel that I belong here anymore. Half of me is with him; in another world or just plain gone. I'm not sure yet (i'll let you know when I get there). I NEVER would have thought that by simply loving someone I was granting them this much power through their death. I never could have imagined that ANYTHING could hurt this much. There's no pain pill in the world that can touch this....it's on a whole different plane.
When Mark and I faced problems in the past, I was always the optimist. I had believed that things could never get too bad... "my god" wouldn't allow it. Well, "my god" failed us. Nothing...absolutely nothing could be worse than taking Mark away from earth. You can take him away from me - a divorce - anything, but it just makes no sense to take him away from earth. I no longer have that feeling that I'm protected. More than ever I want to feel protected, I feel vulnerable. At times I feel like the whole world can sense my vulnerability, like sharks drawn to blood, my grief feels as if it leaves me open to an attack. It's amazing, because the whole neighborhood knows about it. The ladies that used to walk by as I gardened and exchange a smile and hello put their heads down now as they walk past. They know that they could just as easily be that lost woman with sad eyes fumbling around in the dirt. My grief scares them.
Mark was never "the guy" at all the parties that would light up the room. He was the quiet guy that really cared about the couple of people that he was talking to. He lit up my life, changed me profoundly, and taught me once again to love. What do I do with all that now? Is this all a cruel joke, or a really vivid, long nightmare?
I miss you Mark. I'm tired of crying - but there's nothing else I can do right now.
Remember to let those that you love know it...show it.
Natalia
I'm not sure what I want in this blog...I've wanted to write to Mark for a while. I've always been terrible at journaling, I thought that if I made it writing to Mark then I would do it. Part of me wants to do that...knowing full well that he would roll his eyes and tell me that he's not here to read it. Part of me has also become almost evangelical about him...I need to tell everyone about him and how he taught me to love on a whole other level that I didn't know existed, within me or in the world. He never would have told it himself, he was far too modest and private.
I remember once that I told him that as long as my heart was beating he would be alive - because we shared hearts. I wish I really felt that now. His absence is overwhelming...I alternate between being overly attached to simple objects associated with him, and wanting to toss everything away and get out of this house. It hurts so much. I have never known such pain...I never could imagine it. On the exterior I appear whole, but it's a shell. Really, the moment that I was told that Mark died, a searing knife removed everything from inside me. I'm hollow now. I walk in this world, but don't really feel that I belong here anymore. Half of me is with him; in another world or just plain gone. I'm not sure yet (i'll let you know when I get there). I NEVER would have thought that by simply loving someone I was granting them this much power through their death. I never could have imagined that ANYTHING could hurt this much. There's no pain pill in the world that can touch this....it's on a whole different plane.
When Mark and I faced problems in the past, I was always the optimist. I had believed that things could never get too bad... "my god" wouldn't allow it. Well, "my god" failed us. Nothing...absolutely nothing could be worse than taking Mark away from earth. You can take him away from me - a divorce - anything, but it just makes no sense to take him away from earth. I no longer have that feeling that I'm protected. More than ever I want to feel protected, I feel vulnerable. At times I feel like the whole world can sense my vulnerability, like sharks drawn to blood, my grief feels as if it leaves me open to an attack. It's amazing, because the whole neighborhood knows about it. The ladies that used to walk by as I gardened and exchange a smile and hello put their heads down now as they walk past. They know that they could just as easily be that lost woman with sad eyes fumbling around in the dirt. My grief scares them.
Mark was never "the guy" at all the parties that would light up the room. He was the quiet guy that really cared about the couple of people that he was talking to. He lit up my life, changed me profoundly, and taught me once again to love. What do I do with all that now? Is this all a cruel joke, or a really vivid, long nightmare?
I miss you Mark. I'm tired of crying - but there's nothing else I can do right now.
Remember to let those that you love know it...show it.
Natalia
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
