I’m about to step into the week that was.
What does that mean? This week in June used to be filled with anticipation and celebration. Now…maybe just the anticipation…or better put…trepidation.
June 16th…Leroy’s birthday. June 19th…the day we got married.
Each year since he’s been gone, it will be 3, in August, I’ve reacted a little differently. Maybe that’s because more time between these important dates has changed how I get through them? I still struggle with the memories of celebrating and the traditions we created around them over the years. I miss going to the restaurants that screamed “birthday” dinner. We always opened a specific bottle of wine that brought back memories, not only of birthdays, but of the early days in our relationship.
Birthday cake and wedding cake equalled chocolate cake in our house too.
So, here I go…one step at a time, one day at a time….moving forward, into the week that was.
June 15, 2011 @ 3:43 pm
“Sometimes you just have to cry.” Leah Gabrielle Nassau, Age 4
June 13, 2011 @ 5:10 pm
Laurie, as you head into this week, I thought I would share this thought (from an 8 year old boy who was recently diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor): “Laughingly, as if surprised: “It just never occurred to me when I was little that I would get cancer. I mean with all the millions of people in the world, I just didn’t know it would be me.”
Today, two years ago I lost a great friend to colon cancer. Her birthday was exactly a month earlier and she threw the most amazing “celebration of life” party. I’ve lost a great friend, but her 5 children have lost their mother. They are doing alright, raising themselves with aunts, uncles and friends looking in on them, but I know that this is an especially difficult time for them as well.
June 12, 2011 @ 11:07 am
Laurie…definitely a tough week ahead. Perhaps you can change it somewhat, by continuing to “celebrate” these precious memories of special days. Go to those restaurants (even without the free birthday dinner), order that special wine and celebrate the days that you shared together. Reinforce Leroy’s belief that his was a life worth living!!
June 11, 2011 @ 7:49 am
Memories can be so warm and soothing and at the same time haunting….if only! We are human. We have a soul and conscience and feelings…..perhaps if I had only… Let us all be gentle with ourselves. Know that you did the very best you could at the time while in the heat of battle. With the benefit of hindsight, we could perhaps have approached perfection but that’s not how it is nor meant to be. I would encourage each of us to wrap ourselves in the warm memories…cherish them, use them to light our way when darkness seems to overwhelm us and cling fiercely to them for the comfort they bring us. Yes, sadness and loss come along as well. Do not allow them to overshadow the joy and happiness that come with the memory of walking hand-in-hand with our loved one during our life together for however long that was. Be gentle with yourselves kind souls! As the dates come and go year after year, remember that you carry the best memories in your hearts so that your loved one is always close and will be there forever.
June 10, 2011 @ 11:37 pm
One evening, in another world, I put away my tools and went inside to gently scold Penny for laying down and ignoring the beautiful golden light that streamed through our bedroom window. I told her she should come out on the porch and watch the sun set into the waters. Her reaction was subdued and almost terse. For some reason,I often think about that missed moment. I remember thinking at the time that an opportunity to share and enjoy had been lost. Just this week, while I watched the big June sun drown into God’s ancient river, I came to the disturbing realization that my wife was feeling bad way before the cancer demanded definition. I’ve had three years to get accustomed to her loss.I keep thinking I did something wrong and I feel a secret guilt when I’m told how wonderfully I filled my duties as caretaker. There were things I should have known. There were fears that could have been quieted. –Why can’t I hold the sweet moments and why do I embrace this great arrogance of expected perfection?
June 12, 2011 @ 8:39 am
Ned…I guess you and I are on the same page. We had family photos taken about 2 weeks before Jim passed away and I had not looked at them until yesterday. I wanted a photo to put on a shirt to wear at our Relay for Life event. In looking at them I’m saying to myself “how could you not see how close the end was?” and that’s where I have gone for these entire 20 months. I know I had no magic cure but there were things I would have done differently had I been able to see the signs. I was so consumed by keeping hope alive that I couldn’t admit the end was at hand. While I have 38 years of warm memories, this is the thing that still haunts me and, like you, I feel guilty when someone tells me what a terrific caregiver I was. I suppose this is part of the process.
June 12, 2011 @ 11:03 am
Ned and Kathi….I feel very sure that you were both wonderful caregivers and just what your partners needed. I think your negative feelings about things “undone” as a caretaker are a natural part of our frustration and sense of helplessness about not being in control of the situation. There are many things in life that we just have to accept that we are powerless over; at those times we can only do our best and pray that God takes care of the rest or at least gives us the strength to handle what is to be.
Don’t beat yourselves to death over these feelings; just try to concentrate on all those wonderful times and memories you each shared with your loved ones.
June 10, 2011 @ 10:02 pm
A difficult week indeed for you. Why do they have to come in bunches? July is my month to struggle but we will get through it as we have done for the last 2 or 3 years. Just take those memories and savor them, cry if you need to and we will be lifting you.
June 10, 2011 @ 6:51 pm
Patrick always liked Key West, so when my sisters and I all met up there in May, we had with us a picture of him and his wife on the last boat they were on there (the boat whose skipper married them) and we celebrated him being with us. Feeling his spirit with us made the second anniversary of his death somehow a little bit easier. Celebrating his life is what keeps him alive in our memories.