Thursday, August 11, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Grief Club
The moment Mark was pronounced dead, I became a different person. I became the fifth wheel, the one that you had to be careful of what you said when you were near. Don't express happy things, lest I am reminded of my absence, don't say sad things lest I am reminded of my loss. We're naturally social animals (even introverts), and we seek comfort in each other.
It was really hard to hear people bemoaning the loss of the spouse that they had spent their life with. I was grieving the loss of a spouse that I wanted to spend my life with...I was grieving not only what was, but what might have been, what would have been. I craved to be around other people that knew what I was feeling. So, I started going to "young" widow grief support groups.
Here's what I learned. Grief is not a common denominator. I had less in common with these people than I had with many others. We didn't share beliefs - most of them felt that they would not have survived their loss without religion. We didn't share lifestyles - most of them had children. There is a multitude of positive interests that we each had, but we didn't share them. Instead, the only thing we had in common was the saddest part of our lives.
I finally realized...grief is no longer my main attribute. I am not merely a widow. I am a survivor.
We're all survivors. We have choices. We can stay in the dark, or we can walk into the light. Put your sunglasses on, and leave the darkness. Somewhere out there, there is joy waiting for you.
It was really hard to hear people bemoaning the loss of the spouse that they had spent their life with. I was grieving the loss of a spouse that I wanted to spend my life with...I was grieving not only what was, but what might have been, what would have been. I craved to be around other people that knew what I was feeling. So, I started going to "young" widow grief support groups.
Here's what I learned. Grief is not a common denominator. I had less in common with these people than I had with many others. We didn't share beliefs - most of them felt that they would not have survived their loss without religion. We didn't share lifestyles - most of them had children. There is a multitude of positive interests that we each had, but we didn't share them. Instead, the only thing we had in common was the saddest part of our lives.
I finally realized...grief is no longer my main attribute. I am not merely a widow. I am a survivor.
We're all survivors. We have choices. We can stay in the dark, or we can walk into the light. Put your sunglasses on, and leave the darkness. Somewhere out there, there is joy waiting for you.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Emotional Warrior
Grief and regret/guilt are inextricably tied together. We always think we have a chance to redeem ourselves, to undo the things we have done and said in moments of pain. We never get that chance when someone is suddenly taken from you. The game is over but I never got a chance to make my last move.
Lately, I've been dwelling on what I should have done and what I should not have done. Obviously, on the top of the "should have done" list is I wish I had never fallen asleep while he was breathing his last breaths next to me.
Our last few months were incredibly difficult. Mark nearly died, he became more sick, and his behavior was more puzzling. Despite pleas for help, nobody else arrived when he was in a coma. Countless trips to the doctors office never diagnosed him, never healed him. He was afraid that he was going crazy. I knew he wasn't, but at times his behavior weakened my certitude. But, in those last few months, I didn't go the easy route. I didn't lash out and attack him.
Still, I find myself thinking about the times before I "learned my lesson", when I would get so profoundly frustrated and hurt by some of the things he did/didn't do, that I wanted to verbally eviscerate him. My friends/family told me that his actions deserved my wrath, but I knew what they didn't know. Mark's actions didn't define him. They were symptoms of something that was wrong. Wherever we went for help, nothing worked.
I may have expressed my love, respect, and admiration of Mark a million times (a conservative estimate), but these days I spend myself mulling over the 100 times I tore him down. Its so much easier to say that we're angry and attack, than it is to realize that the source of anger is usually pain. Maybe there was an evolutionary advantage to being a warrior, but there definitely isn't an emotional one.
I can't take that back - not ever. So, I have to accept it, and also accept that he knew with absolute certainty that I unconditionally loved him, that I would sit beside him when he was in a coma and talk the whole time just so he knew he wasn't alone. I would remember everything he said because he was the most important person in my world. He used to say that if he committed the most horrific crime of the century, he knew that two people would stand by him and still love him: his mother and me. I would have. More important than what I would have done, is what I am doing now. Today I love him enough to let go of the regret - and remember the love.
Ultimately, we redeem ourselves daily - through our actions and words. Live free, love freely.
Lately, I've been dwelling on what I should have done and what I should not have done. Obviously, on the top of the "should have done" list is I wish I had never fallen asleep while he was breathing his last breaths next to me.
Our last few months were incredibly difficult. Mark nearly died, he became more sick, and his behavior was more puzzling. Despite pleas for help, nobody else arrived when he was in a coma. Countless trips to the doctors office never diagnosed him, never healed him. He was afraid that he was going crazy. I knew he wasn't, but at times his behavior weakened my certitude. But, in those last few months, I didn't go the easy route. I didn't lash out and attack him.
Still, I find myself thinking about the times before I "learned my lesson", when I would get so profoundly frustrated and hurt by some of the things he did/didn't do, that I wanted to verbally eviscerate him. My friends/family told me that his actions deserved my wrath, but I knew what they didn't know. Mark's actions didn't define him. They were symptoms of something that was wrong. Wherever we went for help, nothing worked.
I may have expressed my love, respect, and admiration of Mark a million times (a conservative estimate), but these days I spend myself mulling over the 100 times I tore him down. Its so much easier to say that we're angry and attack, than it is to realize that the source of anger is usually pain. Maybe there was an evolutionary advantage to being a warrior, but there definitely isn't an emotional one.
I can't take that back - not ever. So, I have to accept it, and also accept that he knew with absolute certainty that I unconditionally loved him, that I would sit beside him when he was in a coma and talk the whole time just so he knew he wasn't alone. I would remember everything he said because he was the most important person in my world. He used to say that if he committed the most horrific crime of the century, he knew that two people would stand by him and still love him: his mother and me. I would have. More important than what I would have done, is what I am doing now. Today I love him enough to let go of the regret - and remember the love.
Ultimately, we redeem ourselves daily - through our actions and words. Live free, love freely.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
A letter to Mark
Dear Mark,
I thought of all the ways that I could try to communicate with you - my skeptical, smart husband. I could continue to cry and ask you why you're not here...but you're not responding to that. I could write you a letter, but your vision was so poor without your glasses, though I should believe that has been restored. So I'm resorting to the computer and the internet. You had such passion for computers...surely you will find my letter this way.
You told me once that there is only love. I believe you, but I wish I could feel that now. I've been feeling only sadness. I am missing you so intensely...it's like the first couple months all over again. In the last couple weeks I've been crying for hours every day. I had been getting "better" (whatever that really means), and then I saw your car in the parking lot. For a couple of seconds I got that flutter in my stomach when I knew I was about to see you. I thought of the times in the last couple months of your life when I would go out to your work, drive through the parking lot to find your car and leave a note on the steering wheel. I thought of how you were the only person I trusted enough to sleep in a car when you drove it. Most painfully, I thought that I was about to see you. I can't believe that I am NEVER going to see your face again. I'm NEVER going to hug you again. I don't know why that triggered it so bad, but it did.
You said that you knew how much I loved you, but I find that hard to believe. I would have done anything for you. I would have died for you. I'm finding it hard right now to live without you. That scares me. Not because loving you that much scares me, but because not wanting to live...I know that's wrong. So, I will go to the doctor and get the meds that will supposedly make me want to live again...but there's no way they can ever fix what really hurts. What really hurts is that you're not next to me right now, and you never will be.
I thought of all the ways that I could try to communicate with you - my skeptical, smart husband. I could continue to cry and ask you why you're not here...but you're not responding to that. I could write you a letter, but your vision was so poor without your glasses, though I should believe that has been restored. So I'm resorting to the computer and the internet. You had such passion for computers...surely you will find my letter this way.
You told me once that there is only love. I believe you, but I wish I could feel that now. I've been feeling only sadness. I am missing you so intensely...it's like the first couple months all over again. In the last couple weeks I've been crying for hours every day. I had been getting "better" (whatever that really means), and then I saw your car in the parking lot. For a couple of seconds I got that flutter in my stomach when I knew I was about to see you. I thought of the times in the last couple months of your life when I would go out to your work, drive through the parking lot to find your car and leave a note on the steering wheel. I thought of how you were the only person I trusted enough to sleep in a car when you drove it. Most painfully, I thought that I was about to see you. I can't believe that I am NEVER going to see your face again. I'm NEVER going to hug you again. I don't know why that triggered it so bad, but it did.
You said that you knew how much I loved you, but I find that hard to believe. I would have done anything for you. I would have died for you. I'm finding it hard right now to live without you. That scares me. Not because loving you that much scares me, but because not wanting to live...I know that's wrong. So, I will go to the doctor and get the meds that will supposedly make me want to live again...but there's no way they can ever fix what really hurts. What really hurts is that you're not next to me right now, and you never will be.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
A million cuts + anniversary = bad day
I took Mark home from the ICU at Fairview Ridges hospital a year ago yesterday. I had no idea that he would have only two more months to live - nobody did. I just know that everyday that I wake up I think that a year ago...Mark was right next to me. A year ago maybe we could have done something to save him. Mark's death seemed sudden and unexpected, but in retrospect it was a death of a million cuts.
I'm darker than I have ever been. I really don't know if I can do this anymore. Every morning when I wake up (if I ever sleep), I silently think to myself "what fresh hell awaits me today". Every day is filled with reminders of him, of us...and its hell.
I'm darker than I have ever been. I really don't know if I can do this anymore. Every morning when I wake up (if I ever sleep), I silently think to myself "what fresh hell awaits me today". Every day is filled with reminders of him, of us...and its hell.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Spring stinks
I spent part of yesterday outside, looking at my garden. The first flowers of the season are in bloom, and of course it was salt in the wound again. Every year previous I would go running in the house, grab Mark, and bring him out and show him "our" flowers. It was a reaffirmation that even after the most harsh of Minnesota winters, life and beauty returns. This time there was nobody to show them to. Just another reminder of the hole in my life.
I read an article on young widow/ers in the NY Times. (http://www.nytimes.com/1999/11/21/nyregion/coping-widowed-young-grieving-long.html?sec=&spon=&pagewanted=all) Almost everyone depicted in the article was at least a decade older, and while it was possibly informative of why it's different to lose your spouse at this age than it is in your 70s or 80s, it only skimmed the desolation that it leaves emotionally.
Mark was the anchor to my life. I had hobbies, friends, and a brother - but I was always led back to Mark. He was the one that I fell asleep with, my head on his chest and his hand stroking my hair so my pain would be distracted. He was the one that my whole day revolved around. The "me" ten years ago would have been aghast that I could be this way. I'm a bit wiser now. It isn't strong to be tough. It takes incredible strength to finally give yourself to someone else.
What's unique about losing someone at this age is that you are blindsided in the "prime" of your life. We were making plans for everything from having a baby to retirement, and then the next thing I knew I'm driving 12 hours to see the spot of ground that he's buried. In my case there was no preparation. Just one day the whole world changed. The relationship didn't deteriorate as it does with divorce. He was just ripped away - along with some of my definitions of who I am (Mark's wife...future mother), my plans for the next four decades of my life...but most importantly my best friend is gone. The only person who made me feel butterflies when I'd catch a glimpse of him in public places...the only person who I plotted with...the one who taught me that it really was okay to be nonproductive and just have fun..the one who would spend a day in bed with me when I was sick because he didn't want me to be sick and lonely. Gone. Nobody gets it unless they've gone through it. It isn't even something that you can imagine how it would feel. You can't....I couldn't.
Insensitive people talk about "couples dinners" -the whole world is geared toward couples. Even the people that try to "get it" don't. They don't understand that there is a huge hole in me, that I will never feel whole again. They don't understand that the weekends are a journey to hell - the days that I would spend with Mark now are the days when my phone is conspicuously quiet.
Mark quipped that this house was Noah's Ark, because we have 2 of almost everything. You name the gadget or tool, we have at least two of them. Two drills, two dogs, two stand mixers, two coffee grinders. Two of everything I don't really need. And, the only one that I do need is gone. I really don't understand anything.
I read an article on young widow/ers in the NY Times. (http://www.nytimes.com/1999/11/21/nyregion/coping-widowed-young-grieving-long.html?sec=&spon=&pagewanted=all) Almost everyone depicted in the article was at least a decade older, and while it was possibly informative of why it's different to lose your spouse at this age than it is in your 70s or 80s, it only skimmed the desolation that it leaves emotionally.
Mark was the anchor to my life. I had hobbies, friends, and a brother - but I was always led back to Mark. He was the one that I fell asleep with, my head on his chest and his hand stroking my hair so my pain would be distracted. He was the one that my whole day revolved around. The "me" ten years ago would have been aghast that I could be this way. I'm a bit wiser now. It isn't strong to be tough. It takes incredible strength to finally give yourself to someone else.
What's unique about losing someone at this age is that you are blindsided in the "prime" of your life. We were making plans for everything from having a baby to retirement, and then the next thing I knew I'm driving 12 hours to see the spot of ground that he's buried. In my case there was no preparation. Just one day the whole world changed. The relationship didn't deteriorate as it does with divorce. He was just ripped away - along with some of my definitions of who I am (Mark's wife...future mother), my plans for the next four decades of my life...but most importantly my best friend is gone. The only person who made me feel butterflies when I'd catch a glimpse of him in public places...the only person who I plotted with...the one who taught me that it really was okay to be nonproductive and just have fun..the one who would spend a day in bed with me when I was sick because he didn't want me to be sick and lonely. Gone. Nobody gets it unless they've gone through it. It isn't even something that you can imagine how it would feel. You can't....I couldn't.
Insensitive people talk about "couples dinners" -the whole world is geared toward couples. Even the people that try to "get it" don't. They don't understand that there is a huge hole in me, that I will never feel whole again. They don't understand that the weekends are a journey to hell - the days that I would spend with Mark now are the days when my phone is conspicuously quiet.
Mark quipped that this house was Noah's Ark, because we have 2 of almost everything. You name the gadget or tool, we have at least two of them. Two drills, two dogs, two stand mixers, two coffee grinders. Two of everything I don't really need. And, the only one that I do need is gone. I really don't understand anything.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
More or less
It just doesn't get easier with time. It gets worse. I miss Mark more than ever.
More and more things happen that I wish Mark were a part of. Our country is changing finally, and in a direction that Mark would be so excited to see. More nights go by that I wish I could hear him laughing as he watched a puerile tv show. More nights in bed that I miss those incredible conversations...what we wanted for our lives, our loved ones and our world.
Less things make sense. Mark had just scratched the surface of what he had to offer the world. I have less reason for being. My future as I envision was intrinsically linked to being Mark's wife. "Me" ten years ago would have been horrified by that statement, but the present "me" knows that being Mark's wife is an honor. I have less certainty that there is a god. What kind of god would have done this?
The world continues all around me. People are falling in love, getting married, having children, and unfortunately getting divorced. My life has stood pretty much still since July 22nd. I don't know how to restart it, and I'm not always sure that I want to.
More and more things happen that I wish Mark were a part of. Our country is changing finally, and in a direction that Mark would be so excited to see. More nights go by that I wish I could hear him laughing as he watched a puerile tv show. More nights in bed that I miss those incredible conversations...what we wanted for our lives, our loved ones and our world.
Less things make sense. Mark had just scratched the surface of what he had to offer the world. I have less reason for being. My future as I envision was intrinsically linked to being Mark's wife. "Me" ten years ago would have been horrified by that statement, but the present "me" knows that being Mark's wife is an honor. I have less certainty that there is a god. What kind of god would have done this?
The world continues all around me. People are falling in love, getting married, having children, and unfortunately getting divorced. My life has stood pretty much still since July 22nd. I don't know how to restart it, and I'm not always sure that I want to.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Underachievers
I've heard it said before that if money can solve it; it's not a problem. Equally, I think that if it can be replaced, it's not a problem. Houses, cars...everything inanimate can be replaced. The only things that can't are those that have a soul. I keep thinking back to Mark's last night. I wish to god that I could go back in time, take him to the hospital and explain to them what was really wrong with him - what I didn't find out until his autopsy. I wish that I could figure out anything good that has come of what he suffered and we lost - I can't.
Part of me is stuck in that time zone, and I don't want to move beyond grieving Mark. How can I stop? I love him, I'm devoted to him...I can't stop grieving him. I took my vows very seriously. I guess I'm technically "off the hook". But I'm not. Because I vowed "until death do us part" - and death has not parted us. I still love Mark Halvin. I'm still his wife. I will always be his wife. So the hard part is; how do I figure out how to want to live in a world where I'm separated from the one I love? I haven't been living for almost six months now. I'm almost as dead as Mark is; only worse. He would choose to be alive, I'm choosing not to be. I know he's not happy with my choices. I know he used to think I could do anything, yet all he ever wanted me to do was to be happy. Such a simple charge: Be Happy.
I've achieved little glimpses of it, always striving for it in the future. I always thought after I graduated things would be better. Then came law school...and I thought that certainly I was paying my dues for future happiness. Mark fortunately relieved me of that delusion, but I still floundered. I knew I was happy with Mark, but I thought I needed more. Then, when Mark passed I realized that I really was happy...I didn't need anything else.
I've frequently heard that we utilize a small percentage of our brains, and it has occurred to me that we utilize an equally small amount of our hearts. I think of how much of my time and energy was wasted on making sure the house looked right, on things that just didn't matter. I really believe that we go about our lives using such a small amount of our potential, whatever that is. Humans are capable of horrendous things, genocides, wars and our ignorance is never ending. But we are also capable of incredible love and kindness. Mark would have been so happy about Barack Obama's inauguration. He was wearing a t-shirt that said 1/20/09. Now that day is here but he isn't.
I know it isn't easy to run on all cylinders non-stop. Just for one day, this day, try utilizing even just 50% of your heart. Try being patient when that creep in the fast car speeds past you (Mark had a lead foot), try overlooking their small flaws (Mark had a couple), and just forgive and love. I know that I sound like a broken record; but you won't have those people forever and YOU deserve to love them today.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Leap of Faith
I've been scanning in the negatives to our wedding pictures.
As always, I seem to bring on the pain by looking at how happy we were.
By the time I met Mark I had mapped out my life. I was going to pour my passion into work and changing the world as a lawyer. I was going to lead a life of the mind, not of the heart. I had been dating, but nobody posed a threat to my "plan". As soon as I met Mark I knew that he threatened everything. For two months I wavered. After our initial meeting at the bookstore, and our subsequent marathon conversation until 7 the next morning I was too frightened to see/go out with him again. I stood safely on terra firma, saw the potential happiness on the other side but I focused on what would happen if I fell. Mark was understandably upset and hurt...but I remember he said that he was "infinitely forgiving".
To borrow from Kierkegaard, I finally took a leap of faith for Mark. In retrospect, it seems like it should have been a safe bet. In nine years, I managed to get him to yell at me once, and I worked really hard at it! He just didn't have a mean bone in his body. I knew some of that right away, but if you are going to truly love someone, truly give them your heart it takes a leap of faith. Kierkegard used this term for religion. I'd argue that love is a bigger risk than religion. If you take the leap and believe in religion, you don't find out that you were wrong until you die. Leaping for love exposes you to a living hell if you're wrong. I lept, left my life plan behind and found true love...the kind of love that makes your heart flutter when you spot him in a crowded store, and the kind of love that allows you to be comfortable "showing your ass" to them. Mark used this expression for the ugliness that exists in all of us that we hide from most people. I showed my ass to Mark, and my heart fluttered when I saw him.
I was talking with my friend Lilly yesterday. She knows about taking "the leap". Like many people she has lept and the person on the other side let her fall when she most needed him. Mark and I were devoted to each other. Some people didn't understand this. They didn't understand why a man who wouldn't "take crap" from anyone would take it from me. They didn't understand why he would choose to stay in bed with me when I felt ill rather than to be with others that he loved. There were people that also didn't understand how I could stay with Mark through some of his rough spots. I never would have put up with the same behavior from earlier relationships.
There's just one answer. Love. Love does not exist only in good times. That's easy. Love is proven when it is most difficult - when every rational fiber in you tells you that it is in YOUR best interests to run, but you remain because love knows only devotion. It will not abandon you when you're weak, ugly, sick, crazy, or in jail. It also can't be ended by death. True love never packs up and leaves.
I will never be one of those widows who deifies my late husband. I don't do Mark justice by doing that. Mark was not a saint. He had flaws, just as I had and continue to have. The most serious "flaws" are now explained by his tumor, but nonetheless Mark was real. The key was we were devoted. People have told me repeatedly that our devotion to each other was remarkable. There was never any resentment when one of us needed from the other. Mark used to have a very simple way of explaining why he would do anything I needed. He said "You are me".
Without devotion, love is just a fad. With devotion, love even survives death. I still love Mark. I will always love him. Not just because I choose to (although I do), but because loving Mark is who I am. As far as Mark was concerned when he "saved" me, he saved himself too. I felt the same way about him. There was nothing I wouldn't do for him. Having lost him, that devotion eats away at me. I'm the one that could have saved him. I have a million "if onlys". If only I took him to the Mayo Clinic. If only I would have woke up two hours earlier. They go on forever. It makes life painful.
But now, as I look at those wedding photos I see the happiness on our faces. You can't fake those type of smiles. It truly was the happiest day of our lives. We made that leap, and we landed together. We stayed together.
Love isn't something you can play safely. Make the leap, and stay there.
As always, I seem to bring on the pain by looking at how happy we were.
By the time I met Mark I had mapped out my life. I was going to pour my passion into work and changing the world as a lawyer. I was going to lead a life of the mind, not of the heart. I had been dating, but nobody posed a threat to my "plan". As soon as I met Mark I knew that he threatened everything. For two months I wavered. After our initial meeting at the bookstore, and our subsequent marathon conversation until 7 the next morning I was too frightened to see/go out with him again. I stood safely on terra firma, saw the potential happiness on the other side but I focused on what would happen if I fell. Mark was understandably upset and hurt...but I remember he said that he was "infinitely forgiving".
To borrow from Kierkegaard, I finally took a leap of faith for Mark. In retrospect, it seems like it should have been a safe bet. In nine years, I managed to get him to yell at me once, and I worked really hard at it! He just didn't have a mean bone in his body. I knew some of that right away, but if you are going to truly love someone, truly give them your heart it takes a leap of faith. Kierkegard used this term for religion. I'd argue that love is a bigger risk than religion. If you take the leap and believe in religion, you don't find out that you were wrong until you die. Leaping for love exposes you to a living hell if you're wrong. I lept, left my life plan behind and found true love...the kind of love that makes your heart flutter when you spot him in a crowded store, and the kind of love that allows you to be comfortable "showing your ass" to them. Mark used this expression for the ugliness that exists in all of us that we hide from most people. I showed my ass to Mark, and my heart fluttered when I saw him.
I was talking with my friend Lilly yesterday. She knows about taking "the leap". Like many people she has lept and the person on the other side let her fall when she most needed him. Mark and I were devoted to each other. Some people didn't understand this. They didn't understand why a man who wouldn't "take crap" from anyone would take it from me. They didn't understand why he would choose to stay in bed with me when I felt ill rather than to be with others that he loved. There were people that also didn't understand how I could stay with Mark through some of his rough spots. I never would have put up with the same behavior from earlier relationships.
There's just one answer. Love. Love does not exist only in good times. That's easy. Love is proven when it is most difficult - when every rational fiber in you tells you that it is in YOUR best interests to run, but you remain because love knows only devotion. It will not abandon you when you're weak, ugly, sick, crazy, or in jail. It also can't be ended by death. True love never packs up and leaves.
I will never be one of those widows who deifies my late husband. I don't do Mark justice by doing that. Mark was not a saint. He had flaws, just as I had and continue to have. The most serious "flaws" are now explained by his tumor, but nonetheless Mark was real. The key was we were devoted. People have told me repeatedly that our devotion to each other was remarkable. There was never any resentment when one of us needed from the other. Mark used to have a very simple way of explaining why he would do anything I needed. He said "You are me".
Without devotion, love is just a fad. With devotion, love even survives death. I still love Mark. I will always love him. Not just because I choose to (although I do), but because loving Mark is who I am. As far as Mark was concerned when he "saved" me, he saved himself too. I felt the same way about him. There was nothing I wouldn't do for him. Having lost him, that devotion eats away at me. I'm the one that could have saved him. I have a million "if onlys". If only I took him to the Mayo Clinic. If only I would have woke up two hours earlier. They go on forever. It makes life painful.
But now, as I look at those wedding photos I see the happiness on our faces. You can't fake those type of smiles. It truly was the happiest day of our lives. We made that leap, and we landed together. We stayed together.
Love isn't something you can play safely. Make the leap, and stay there.
Connections
I've been hiding for over a month. I'm not sure who or what I'm hiding from. I just know that I've been hiding.
I have heard people claim that we are the sum total of everyone that we've met in our lives. I'm not sure that I wholly agree with that...I'd like to believe that there is something unique in each of us that can't be simply molded by our experiences. However, when I think of who I am now, versus who I was when I met Mark, I think maybe it has some truth.
Mark and I spent nine years together. We lived together, slept together, we loved, we fought, we expressed our biggest fears, kept a few secrets - but our hearts were always an open book. He has affected me more than anyone else in my life. We spent more time together, one on one than I spent with anyone else. Some of those hours were spent just huddled together sleeping - but even then we were connecting. I always woke up when he left the bed. Part of me must have known something was wrong. If he wasn't next to me sleeping I'd wake up and find him usually in the bathroom. Now we know that he woke up frequently because of his tumor. After he left, I couldn't sleep for over three months because my body sensed his absence and refused to allow me to rest without him. All I knew was that he wasn't where he belonged...next to me. He never will be again.
You don't need candlelight dinners to connect. Open yourself to the multitude of connections that everyday life offers. Don't pass them up - they may never occur again.
I have heard people claim that we are the sum total of everyone that we've met in our lives. I'm not sure that I wholly agree with that...I'd like to believe that there is something unique in each of us that can't be simply molded by our experiences. However, when I think of who I am now, versus who I was when I met Mark, I think maybe it has some truth.
Mark and I spent nine years together. We lived together, slept together, we loved, we fought, we expressed our biggest fears, kept a few secrets - but our hearts were always an open book. He has affected me more than anyone else in my life. We spent more time together, one on one than I spent with anyone else. Some of those hours were spent just huddled together sleeping - but even then we were connecting. I always woke up when he left the bed. Part of me must have known something was wrong. If he wasn't next to me sleeping I'd wake up and find him usually in the bathroom. Now we know that he woke up frequently because of his tumor. After he left, I couldn't sleep for over three months because my body sensed his absence and refused to allow me to rest without him. All I knew was that he wasn't where he belonged...next to me. He never will be again.
You don't need candlelight dinners to connect. Open yourself to the multitude of connections that everyday life offers. Don't pass them up - they may never occur again.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Nothing changes, nothing stays the same
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.
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.
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.
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