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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.