tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67894923917090420782024-03-13T21:59:45.316-07:00Writing reflectionsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-79230945525897127562018-07-06T05:55:00.003-07:002018-07-06T05:55:52.752-07:00A Year Without Honey<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="5j419" data-offset-key="al7pr-0-0" style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span data-offset-key="al7pr-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">A Year Without Honey....</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ahulo-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"> I have done as you wished my girl, to the best of my ability. I've even managed to find love again, surprising as that is...but even with all of that; the pain of this day is not lessened. Not one bit. I still hear each labored breath...still watch helplessly as you slip away. Powerless. Helpless. Goddammit to hell...</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="3n6l4-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">You will always hold that place in my heart, that part of my soul that you so selflessly nourished and loved. You taught me humility and joy, made me a better person and man than I could have ever been on my own...so many gifts you left me. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="ep7hg-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">Try as I might, sleep eluded me last night and as the sun rose my tears glisten with the pinkish gold of another day. The bitter saltiness seeps through my compressed lips as I shudder in the misery of your last days...just as my guilt threatens to overwhelm me, I feel you dear. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="22ct2-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">Whispering to me, soothing me...as you so often did. Encouraging me as I struggle with the challenges of moving on. It's still the smallest of things...a scent. A picture or a moment of deja vu. In the stillness of the morning and in the pounding of the rain, you are there. Tugging at my heart and nudging me forward... </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="3j756-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">“Live and be happy boy.” Yes dear...I'm trying. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="10n-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">So many changes these past months. I've moved from our condo and sold or donated most of our household belongings. Much of the rest is in storage until I can decide what to do with it. I'm learning to live again with someone I think you'd like and respect. She understands the duality of a heart thats suffered such a loss because she too is a widow. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="eh90o-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">We're learning together that being happy again isn't a reason for self recrimination. I don't believe that the door ever closes on a lost love but I do think it can become a room where we can visit with fondness and warmth, eventually. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="aqhl-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">So on this day while I grieve and the pain is so biting, I have hope that you are smiling and happy in the knowledge that I've not given up and am trying to share what you so generously gave me in abundance...love...now and forever my honey. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-1496069188642015172018-02-14T07:21:00.000-08:002018-02-14T07:21:20.420-08:00My Dearest Valentine<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">My Dearest Valentine</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Honey and I never really
participated in this holiday. She thought the very idea of putting
aside a single day to express your feelings to the most important
person in your life was ludicrous. She and I loved one another and
expressed that every day. Our first year together, I made a card and
bought the traditional flowers and candy. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">My honey hugged me, kissed
me and giggled. Squeezing me tighter, she grinned and told me she'd
be right back. I thought she was retrieving a similar
offering...instead she brought back a shoe box and started taking out
little trinkets and notes I'd left her throughout the year. Pictures
of goofy things we'd done for each other and ticket stubs of events
and movies we'd attended. Turning back to me, she'd taken my face in
her hands and kissed me harder before pulling away to look into my
eyes, saying.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-size: small;">I'm the most loved
girl EVER! I'm blessed with the way you love me...you make all my
days Valentines!” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">We'd held each other and I
realized I too had a “goody” box of notes and daily memories. My
girl always put me first. When our schedules allowed, she greeted me
at the door, smiling and with a kiss. Tucked me in (I worked nights)
and made sure I wanted for nothing. We took care of each other
happily and it was an equal partnership. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">What makes me sad today is
the memory of this time last year. She was in the middle of a chemo
treatment and as it happened, on Valentines she awoke with a real
appetite. I told her we'd go wherever she wanted and she choose a
seafood place. As I watched her eat crab legs and lobster covered in
butter, I took pictures and video clips. She surprised me with a card
that inside contained a letter expressing her love. Looking back, I
think she knew even then it would be our last. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Still she ate with gusto,
we laughed and spoke of our dreams and the future. There was never
any quit in my girl. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I woke up very early and
have read that card and letter a dozen times...Lord how I miss you.
Your dazzling smile, the tickle of your hair and the scent of you
near me. All of the tiniest things that made up our love which
fulfilled and sustained me dear, are highlighted today. I don't know
so many things...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I'd never envisioned my
life without you in it and even now I sometimes reach for you in the
middle of the night...and each time I'm still shocked to find you
gone. I've completed most of your wishes my girl. I take comfort in
that...and hope that somehow you know and still feel me and my love
for you. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I return to work in two
days. The months have blurred by and I know in my heart that I was
well and deeply loved....you told me a heart well loved is a life
well lived. I know it's true otherwise it wouldn't hurt so very much.
</span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Still now and always, my
sweet honey...my Valentine. </span>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-79606882403372501362018-01-27T12:31:00.000-08:002018-01-27T12:31:08.161-08:00Updating My Girl...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Updating
My Girl.....</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm quickly approaching
the seven month mark without you by my side honey.
Unfathomable....but I'm writing this as a long overdue update and to
try to make peace with my soul. I hide it well these days but in
those quiet moments, I still fall apart my darling...my heart cries
out for what it knows cannot be and it's then that I shudder in
helpless rage as the tears fall. This isn't how it was supposed to
be!! For all of it's intensity, my anger and heartache are impotent.
I can no more confront a disease than I can God and I know what you
told me sweet girl...there isn't a reason or an answer. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Once upon a time just
being in your arms was enough. I knew because of the way you loved
me...I was blessed to have had you at all but it also makes missing
you that much harder. I will forever love you Tammy Jean. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">On the positive side, your
belongings have been donated to the battered women's shelter as you
wished and I returned your training manuals and donated your
equipment belt to the Urbandale police department. The new chief was
kind enough to not only meet with me but spend thirty minutes of his
busy day sharing his thoughts and honoring your service. He also sent
me a challenge coin...in your honor. An impressive and compassionate
man indeed. Everyone loved my girl...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I've taken you home to our
boys and you'd be very proud of how well they're doing. I know I am.
My knees are doing well and with minimal direct therapy; I was
released to continue on my own without follow up, yesterday. I also
joined a gym and have dedicated myself to four days a week. You're
always in my ear whispering encouragement and chuckling when I'm sore
babe. I've lost 32 lbs to date and the goal is another 50 by years
end. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm also trying to be
present and remain engaged with family and friends. You know that
this most of all is hard for me...but I do try. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I see the surgeon on
Monday and baring the unforeseen, he should allow me to return to
work on the 16<sup>th</sup> of February. I'm going to SD afterwards
to spend time with my father, brothers and family again before I
return to the grind. I'll return in time to clear the company doctor
and prepare myself to get back into a work routine once more. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I've set the goal of
returning to some kind of writing schedule by the end of June.
Hopefully, that won't have to be adjusted but we'll see. Life marches
forward and I reluctantly accept that...but I miss our life. Your
laughter most of all. There is still beauty in this world and I truly
try to see it as you did...full of optimism and hope. I want to
continue to carry that which you taught me...that beacon of belief
into the better natures of all. It's a struggle and not in my
nature...but I hear you dear. Now and forever, my honey. </span>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-80841073918304872892018-01-15T13:37:00.000-08:002018-01-15T13:37:27.701-08:00Outlook on 2018...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Outlook on 2018....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
For the first time
in many years, I was awake to bring in the new year without being
scheduled to work. There was no magical transference allowing me to
forget or leave my grief behind. I can honestly say that I'm both
deeply saddened and glad to see 2017 come to an end. I lost the love
of my life, my dearest honey but it also brought an end to her
suffering with cancer. Oh how I miss your sweet kisses my girl!
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It seems only
fitting then, that the new year started out with record breaking cold
here in Iowa. Sub zero temperatures not seen since 1887...actual
temperatures at -20, with windchills as low as -45 below zero. It
mirrors the arctic wind that howls thru my heart.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My honey had a
list...one that I'm trying to honor as best I can. My knee joints
have been replaced and are healing on schedule. I returned from a
trip to Tennessee a few days ago, returning my beloved's ashes to our
boys along with mementos collected over the years. Regrettably, the
trip was cut short by inclement weather both in Iowa and
surprisingly, Tennessee as well.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This weekend I
packed the majority of your clothing as you wished for a local
charity. A task that should've taken a few hours took two days and a
river of tears....each piece a memory to let go of. I kept a handful
of things for myself and family. For me, this was harder than the
knee replacement surgeries by far. One of your friends came and took
things I know she'll use...you would've liked that and I thank her
for sharing some of that burden. There are a few other things to sort
through, mostly fitness or police gear and books but that can wait
for another day.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another PT
evaluation in the morning and then I will deliver your clothing to
the shelter. The final tangible task on my honey's list....and I
can't help but wonder what next? I know I still have a month's worth
of work to do before I can return to my job but that purpose alone
does nothing to calm the ache or the sorrow.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know my
girl...promises. I'm doing the best I can. As for the rest...One day,
sometimes one minute at a time. You were my peace and my purpose. My
happiness and joy...and while I treasure our time, I cannot help but
mourn it's loss. Still.
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can't see what the
new year holds...none of us can. I only know that the love in my
heart still belongs to you...always and forever, my honey. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-25523465196436878942018-01-11T08:22:00.001-08:002018-01-11T08:22:44.725-08:00<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Taking
Honey Home....</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This past week has been a
whirlwind of activity, coupled with long hours of solitude while
driving to and from Tennessee where honey and I lived for so long.
While primarily it was to spend time with our grown boy's and return
their mother's ashes and mementos, I was also able to visit some very
dear friends and even witness (behind the curtain!) the birth of the
fifth grandchild in a very special family. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">To ALL of them, I say
thank you, for including me in such a precious moment and I know that
the upcoming sixth grandchild (in about a month) will be a wonderful
blessing as well. I am honored and blessed beyond words by your love
and kindness. To those of you that I missed, I apologize...inclement
weather (In Iowa) cut my trip shorter than planned. Such is life...we
do the best we can. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The time spent with my
boy's was emotional and special as well. I got to see firsthand how
they're not only coping with the loss of their mother but doing their
best to fulfill her (our) desire to live fully and to pursue
happiness each day. I'm proud of both of them and I know my honey
would be bursting at the seams. David and Josh...I love you. I know
that juggling your work schedules and personal schedules is always
challenging, I enjoyed every minute we spent together! :o)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I was able to visit many
of the places honey and I lived and loved...time changes many things
but the memories remain. Bittersweet and tearful as it was, I'm glad
I took the time to see them again. The next task on her list is too
give her personal belongings (clothing, etc.) to those in need. I
found a local shelter for battered women and children and it will be
receiving most of it. I think she'd have liked that...boxing those
will be HARD but I intend to have it finished by the end of this
coming weekend. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">After that? I just don't
know...the rest of honey's list isn't something I can predict or put
a specific time to. The knees are coming along but are stiff and
swollen from all the hour's of driving. Ice and elevation will take
care of that in a day or two. Baring the unforeseen I should be able
to return to work by my target date of February 16<sup>th</sup>. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm still trying to find
my footing and struggling to keep my mind and heart open to the
possibility of happiness and love. I KNOW I have those things in my
children and dear friends....it's what keeps me moving me forward. At
this point, I can't imagine ever finding a personal relationship like
I had with my sweet honey. Impossible. So...I will just keep doing
the best I can each and every day. I have goals and task to complete
once I return to work and that in itself will keep me busy for the
immediate future.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I am thankful for what I
have...yes dear. But damn, I miss you my girl....forever my sweet
honey. </span>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-78108384675363527902017-12-03T10:48:00.001-08:002017-12-03T10:48:29.430-08:00A Letter To Honey....<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">A Letter To Honey.....</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In three short days it will be five
months...since I had to let you go. Since I've held your hand or
kissed your head....add a few more days and even though you were so
very sick, since you told me you loved me and smiled your beautiful
smile. My God how I've missed you....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I tell myself that it's getting better.
That I'm learning to live without you...but that's a lie. I HATE
being without you. I've had days without tears...even moments when I
can smile and laugh but they are fleeting and often filled with
guilt. Yes dear...I hear you...but I cannot change how I feel.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've worked hard to try and fulfill
some of the many promises you asked of me. Both knee joints have been
replaced and going into the fourth week, (3 days past the third week
on the first knee.) I'm ahead of the curve physically and am
aggressively weening myself off the pain meds. I mostly use them to
help me sleep and am strictly adhering to the medical advice of the
doctors and therapist. I'm still watching what I eat and have lost 26
pounds. The goal is another fifty by this time next year.
Ambitiously, my return to work date is February the 16<sup>th</sup>.
We'll see.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I should be allowed to drive after the
18<sup>th</sup> of this month and hope to go and see our boys and
spend time with Joe and Lisa and the family as well. The holidays
have been truly miserable...I don't expect that to change anytime
soon. The memories of better times...of your laughter and merriment
are what keep's me going and of course, brings me to tears...huddled
on our bed, miserable and sobbing helplessly.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which brings me to those things that
I've not done so well at...I haven't been as receptive as I could be
to offers of assistance. You know I've always sucked at that. I also
haven't been writing...very little anyway. This small piece has taken
many hours and even more tissues. The focus just isn't there. The
honey-isms that I want to share, simply won't come. They're too
painful to think about...still. I find myself withdrawing more and
more...and I know. It's not what you wanted. It is what it is....you
told me not to be angry. But I am.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
At myself...at the disease and God...at
people in general. I resent what I no longer have...knowing a thing
is petty and wrong doesn't prevent you from feeling it anyway. Not
one damn bit. The world moves on...as do we all. That simple truth
hurts...each and every day. That it would continue without such a
beautiful soul seems wrong...and out of place. Am I alone? Of course
not...it happen's every day. My feelings are not unique...but my
heart doesn't care about reason or logic. It only knows that without
you, it feels barren as a field on winters morning and that harsh
wind that blows through it, leaves me shivering and broken.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't know what tomorrow brings...my
short term goals are simple survival. A to B, day in and out. You
know I won't quit. It's not in me...much as I sometimes wish it was.
You were my joy and delight...you made everything new and possible. I
find it harder to care...but I will keep going.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I try hard to be thankful...for all
that we had. For those that still love and support me...to do as you
asked of me...but baby it's HARD. So Goddamned hard...I love you
Tammy Jean and I miss you so much.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'll keep swinging honey...I promised I
would. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-38554778668710588772017-11-04T05:51:00.001-07:002017-11-04T05:51:31.538-07:00Tear's At Dawn...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tears at Dawn...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was beginning to
wonder if it'd ever happen but for a couple of days this past week,
there were no tears for my girl. It lasted two days and returned with
a vengeance that's left me hollow and numb...the minds a funny thing.
We can rationalize a thing, KNOW the reality of it and accept the
logic but our hearts will still give not one damn for any of it.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Once again, it's
O'Dark thirty....and the ache of my heart seems to leave a gap in my
soul that erodes my ability to feel things normally. I'm either raw
and on the ragged edge of tears or closed down completely, shutting
out everyone and everything. I try very hard not to default to the
latter...but I realize that I've failed miserably at that recently.
If I've hurt feelings in that regard, my apologies.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In five days my
first knee replacement will take place, followed by the second seven
days later. Everything is in place in terms of logistics...food,
physical therapy and sufficient distractions to keep me from going
stir crazy (I hope) for the first 5-6 weeks of isolation. After that,
I should be able to drive and I hope to spend some time with my
family both in South Dakota and Tennessee. My targeted return date
for work is February 16<sup>th</sup>. Three months....which will
complete a promise I made to my sweet honey. Beyond that? I just
don't know. I have some long term goals and like most people, I'll be
bound to my place of employment for the foreseeable future. I'll be 5
hours from family in one direction and 11 in the other...it is what
it is. Four months past that and I'll be 54 and nearly a year without
the love of my life....how is that even possible?
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It hammers home the
simple truths we all know but tend to ignore. The world will continue
without you...time will march forward, relentless and uncaring no
matter how much we rage against it. I understand now how so many
people simply give up...what's the point, right? It's something I've
wrestled with these past months daily. If God is the answer and
everything happens for a reason, then was my honey's suffering for a
higher purpose? If so, Gabriel is going to have his hands full when
my time comes...</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My honey was the
spiritual rock in our household. I'm not talking about organized
religion, which has failed miserably in my experience but there ARE
people who; like my dear girl, exemplify both the example and the
intent of all religions. They are compassionate, caring and
selfless....they help strangers because they want to make a
difference. It's these few that give me hope that there is a bigger
purpose in our existence. They're spiritual but not necessarily
religious in the conventional sense. They believe (as my honey did)
they have faith. I truly wish I did...I've been reading her much
marked and highlighted bible lately. I've read it (and most other
spiritual books) many times over the years. As a soldier and police
officer, I've seen the atrocities people of all nationalities can
inflict on one another...the price of free will? Maybe. She believed
in the goodness of people...of the ability of almost anyone to become
a better person if given a chance. It's one of the things I loved
about her...and something I've always struggled with. Trust. Mostly,
I don't...</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can almost hear
her chuckle and repeat the mantra she whispered so often into my
ear... “Love and encourage, boy.” She did teach this knuckle
dragger to do that, albeit with one hand figuratively still firmly
placed on the butt of a handgun. SO....as the sun comes up this
morning, it reflects off the tears that stain my face...I see her
beauty there...her heart and her desires for me to embrace another
day.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm trying
baby...but oh how I miss you and your loving embrace....I hope and I
pray that you're in a better place. Beyond the pain and the hurt...I
love you Tammy Jean.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-7176063373186081812017-10-26T06:26:00.002-07:002017-10-26T06:26:51.655-07:00An Update and Admission<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
An Update and Admission....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
First a word of thanks for all who have
taken the time to let me know that they're thinking of me and
dropping by with a kind word of encouragement. It means more than I
can possible tell you...greatly appreciated.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My doctors appointment for my finger
went well and I'm cleared for surgery on the 9<sup>th</sup> and 16<sup>th</sup>
of November. I do still have to see the surgeon this coming Monday
(30<sup>th</sup>) and do another pre-op physical. Baring the
unexpected, everything should be green lighted. So...seven more
working days with my 12 hour schedule. Avoiding boo-boo's will be my
top priority! :o)
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For those whom have never done
industrial maintenance...easier said than done! There's ALWAYS
something to stick, poke, cut or burn you...a slip of the wrench,
brush the wrong piping...instant oowee! Mostly minor nicks and the
like but when the doc says NO open wounds...challenging. Even with
rolled down sleeves and gloves. Nature of the beast and all
that....it'll work out.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've been asked by a few folks what my
plans are and to be honest, I don't know. I've got some rather long
term goals but no specific plans beyond the upcoming knee surgery and
the recovery, which the doctor optimistically hopes will have me
returned to work by mid February. He said complete recovery, i.e. no
swelling, pain or stiffness generally takes about 18 months.
Terrific...I think!
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A wise friend told me I needed to try
and let go of the why (of my honey's death) and focus on the what now
and when...sage indeed. This is also what my girl told
me...repeatedly. I have no earthly idea of how to do any of that but
it has made me think more deeply of late on what I want...eventually.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know that if and when my heart is
ready, I will not settle. I want what I lost...balance. Some people
can be happy alone and I was once very much a loner. My honey gave me
a different perspective on life and people. I still don't trust
easily but I am much more open and willing to listen than I was. Some
people can feel happy alone. I don't know if you can feel complete
that way...I used to think I was but I know better now. For me there
is a special joy in sharing an experience with someone...in the
simplicity of pleasing another with a touch or a gesture.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The act of looking into another's eyes
and feeling them touch your soul...of KNOWING that you're touching
theirs...that's completion. Its joy. It's living and its love.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
That's what I've lost...that
connection...and it's what some never find. It's certainly something
worth looking for but I'm not certain I have the patience or the
ability to do so anymore. We are each unique but unified in our
desires to live a life worthy of remembering. Of leaving our mark in
this world. Empires fall, trends fade but memories are eternal. They
can be passed on for generations. We should all strive to make
remarkable impressions on those we love and those we can help in our
own way. My honey did...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
With her I learned that intimacy
transcends the purely physical...without that soulful connection it's
just sex. I'm not saying that's a bad thing but to me, holding her in
my arms or laying together and running my fingers through her hair
and massaging her scalp as she drifted off on my chest...heavenly.
Those simple things...hearing her sing happily unaware I was
home...stolen kisses at inappropriate moments...a pat or passing
touch...all of THAT and more...that's what I want. Can lightning
strike twice? I don't know...but that's some of the what.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As to the when...SIGH...someone said
God would tell me when my heart was ready. Since we're not exactly on
speaking terms at the moment, I won't hold my breath...but it's not
now. All I can offer is this...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Find what makes you happy and gives you
balance. Hold on to it and cherish that person...be vocal and make
the time. Make memories...they needed be extravagant. Just heartfelt.
Dance in the rain...in the store or the parking lot. Steal
kisses...hold hands...chase each other naked! Whatever makes you
laugh or smile... be silly and real.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We each get one day at a time...don't
waste a single one.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-7520106963933471032017-10-23T08:51:00.000-07:002017-10-23T08:51:04.364-07:00The Brilliance of Fall...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Brilliance of Fall....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I spent this past weekend trying to
enjoy the vibrant colors of the season. The radiant hues of reds,
oranges and yellows are in full display. Honey always loved the
colors if not the season. She was a sunshine person...as many folks
are. I like the crisp air and the change of season...usually.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm coming to the realization that this
year is going to be a season of many first...bittersweet and painful.
I drove around the Iowa countryside, alternating between awestruck
and melancholy. I missed having her hand in mine...in looking over to
see her smile. Honey loved Thanksgiving and both preparing the meal
and the gathering of family. There will be neither this year...I also
learned that my eldest son's six year relationship actually ended
last year. They both kept this from us to spare our feelings and were
quite mature about everything.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I feel bad about not noticing and that
he shouldered this burden alone...but I understand their decision. I
do wonder where he learned to be so hard headed? :o)
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A dear friend bought me a journal and
I've been writing in it. Venting and random thoughts that I could
never post publicly. It's helping...another introduced a new variety
of music and this too has been a blessing. So many kind words of
encouragement and sentiments of caring...from people both near and
far. All of which keep me moving forward, however grudgingly that may
be.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thank you. Each and every one of
you...for sharing your strength and light.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is a season for all things...we
all pass through them regardless of our wishes or desires. The timing
is almost never of our choosing and even when it is, there are no
perfect transitions. There will be pain and sorrow, regrets and
dreams unrealized. Nature strives for balance...as should we. Take
the time to make those memories and fulfill those dreams, because
tomorrow isn't promised for any of us. Find that balance. Worry less
about the stuff and more about the time spent with those you hold
dear.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It doesn't take money, for I would give
all I have for five more minutes...to hold her...kiss her and run my
fingers through her hair. The simplest of things...the shared
laughter, the hugs. Lazy mornings and stolen moments...those are the
colors of life. The brilliance of balance...of living with a lover
and best friend. Whatever your joy is, embrace it and pursue those
adventures you desire, hand in hand. Be silly, be vocal and never
leave room for doubt...enjoy each and every season as if it were your
last. Only the memories will endure in the end.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As for myself, I will take these next
months day by day. I have nine working days until my first surgery,
which will be November the 9<sup>th</sup>. The second is scheduled
for the 16<sup>th</sup>. I see the finger doctor this Wednesday and
should be released for surgery. My surgeon wants to do his own
inspection the 30<sup>th</sup> along with another pre-op physical.
Baring the unforeseen, I'll begin the prep work two days after
that...my original plans of driving to see the kids for Christmas
won't be doable. Hopefully after the first of the year, I'll be
released for travel...six weeks is the target number. It will be
challenging both physically and mentally but it'll also fulfill the
first of my promises dear.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I've no idea what 2018 has in store...
I can only hope to keep my heart open to the changing of the seasons.
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-33238936903174386062017-10-18T07:59:00.000-07:002017-10-18T07:59:28.243-07:00Anniversaries and Adversities....<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anniversaries and Adversities....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This for me has been a week of
sleepless nights and bone deep sorrow....not on the pot but close
enough to stare at it longingly. Tomorrow marks the anniversary of
the day I married my sweet honey. We would have marked 18 years of
marriage and very near twenty years together...I consider it the
single greatest accomplishment of my life.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We weren't perfect but we were very
good for each other. We always strove to put the other first and be
honest to a fault. It was painful and exhilarating....we had trails
that would've destroyed most couples but we held on and endured. We
taught each other how to love...unashamedly and unconditionally. She
made me a better man and a more complete person.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She taught me that joy comes from the
simplest things and that even our darkest moments can be embraced and
learned from....if we just change our perspective. It is this loving
lesson that I cling to now. Desperately.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
On our wedding day, those many years
ago, we'd planned a simple outdoor service. At a friends house that
had a beautiful backyard in the county. It wasn't extravagant in any
fashion...financially our divorces had left both of us starting over
but she was beautiful in a simple white gown and I had on the only
suit I owned. At the time we lived 80+ miles from the place we'd
chosen to be married and we traveled there because it was close to
where my best friend (who was very sick with cancer) lived.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Amazingly, a large number of our
martial arts outreach families made the trip that day...we started
outside but before the service could be completed, the Tennessee
skies opened up and the entire group was quickly drenched in a down
pour. Our friend had a converted outbuilding that was his dojo
(martial arts studio) and the entire group retreated inside...to say
it was packed was like saying a sardine can was roomy! Many in
attendance were professional soldiers and they quickly rigged a
makeshift covering for the grills set up outside...grinningly
cooking, drenched in the blowing rain...tarps were thrown on the
floor to protect the mats. Hardly the romantic ceremony I'd hoped
for...and yet, there she stood...damp...smiling and as beautiful as
the morning sun. We exchanged vows and simple bands...my girl sang
for me...her voice quavering and angelic...eyes brimming with happy
tears. We danced...slowly and locked into each others eyes. I fed her
cake...nicely...my best friend encouraged her to smash my piece into
my face...which she did for him, giggling madly.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
People applauded...many in tears for
our union. Best day ever...and one that we each celebrated every
year. No matter the circumstances. Be it before or after work...most
times in simple intimate ways...I once filled her SUV with balloons,
each having a scrap of paper with an endearment of my love. We spent
an evening on our deck in the moonlight...dancing to a tape of love
songs she'd made for me...whispering the words in my ear as we swayed
together.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For those that don't know me...I have
two dancing styles...Fonzie slow dance and a version of being tazered
while remaining upright! Honey was the dancer...she could literally
dance to anything and tolerated my ineptness with humor and grace. We
loved each other daily...holding hands and stealing kisses. A
thousand tiny gestures that strung together are a love and a life
lived and shared, always together...which is why I am so lost without
you babe.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
You sweet Tammy Jean were my world...my
hopes...and my dreams...always included you. You asked me to keep
dreaming...to cherish each day. I am trying. Truly. Your memory and
selflessness encourage me and give me strength...most days. But I
miss you...and I miss us. I think a part of me always will. It's that
corner of my heart that keeps me going...makes me face another day.
If not with joy, then at least with a stubborn determination to
fulfill my promises to you. Yes dear...still hard-headed...despite
your best efforts.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't know if I can ever love
again...I know that was your hope. Your wish for me...but for now at
least, it's beyond my ability to do. I love my family...I cherish my
friendships but beyond that? I just don't know. I once told you that
anything was possible as long as you kept pushing no matter how many
doors were closed on you...I believed that and in you...as long as it
was desired, right?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Maybe I was wrong...in life, some
things are closed forever...beyond our reach. It's the reality...but
does that mean our dreams become less meaningful? Our desires
diminished and our drives forever crushed? I know what my girl would
say...she'd say, “Follow your heart boy...it's a good one.”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If that was ever true, it's a broken
one now...but I hear you honey. Happy anniversary baby....I love you. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-58225296788744511562017-10-12T06:19:00.000-07:002017-10-12T06:19:13.902-07:00Walls and Wishes...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Walls and Wishes.....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I sit sipping
coffee this morning, I reflect on the stillness of my environment.
It's more than just the predawn quiet, it's the absence of presence
and the knowledge of loss that makes what should be a simple time of
recharging; instead an uncomfortable reminder of the hollowness in my
heart....</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's a testament to
the depth of my love for my sweetest honey and a true example of how
very much she enriched my life. I know that there are people that
enjoy being single and truth be told, I've never been bothered by
being alone...but I miss my soulmate. That feeling of completeness
that comes with the certainty of a safe harbor...of a place and a
person that truly accepts and loves who and what you are...flawed as
that may be.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As children our
experiences teach each of us to build walls. Defensible places that
we can shelter parts of ourselves from harm. As we become adults,
these walls become multi-layered mechanisms for interacting with
others. It's natural and a commonality all humans share...we expose
only those aspects that we feel comfortable with and that can be
quickly withdrawn when we perceive a possible threat. It's a survival
mechanism hardwired into each of us. Those things which we hold most
dear...our dreams and wishes of the heart are some of the most
tightly held. We learn from hard experience to heavily shield that
which can hurt us most deeply.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When we love, we
slowly learn to allow each other to see all of those sanctums. Our
fears, weaknesses and dreams reside here and when used against us or
judged irrelevant, the damage can be catastrophic; resulting in walls
so thick that we deny access even to ourselves. Honey and I spent
years carefully learning how to share and truly know each other
fully...in each of us lies greatness and sorrow. Learning to embrace
and encourage such dynamically different parts of another is both
challenging and ultimately rewarding that it defies description.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's what makes each
of us special and unique...</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was my honey's
wish that I not rebuild those walls that she so lovingly created
doors too. In some cases, into places I had kept locked even to
myself. I'm not a braggart but even in my diminished physical
condition, there isn't a man on the planet that I fear...I know I can
more than hold my own...and yet I can feel some of those bricks being
layered once more. Closing off things and places that I'm no longer
sure I can go.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know some of this
is grief but as of late I've also found myself isolating large parts
of my life simply because they're painful. I'm writing
less...ignoring lines of communication and becoming less social. I've
never been very dynamic in that arena but I it's becoming more
strained as I struggle to stay minimally connected. For those of you
that I hadn't responded to, my apologies...I do sincerely appreciate
your efforts.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So...my wish and my
hope is that I'll keep journaling my experiences and in doing so
maybe scribble something that is relatable and relevant. My fear is
that this is an exercise in futility, that my random ramblings are
just that....meaningless rants. So be it... for the moment, this is
an effort for me to unscramble and sort through the mess I've become.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In my heart I know
that this mattered to her and in this way I can rationalize that I
tried...for both of us.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you're still
reading, all I know is this...even Superman in his fortress of
solitude needed Lois...if you have someone in your life that you hold
dear, let them in...work on it together. All things of greatness
require risk...and encouragement. Embrace the differences
fully...enjoy the simple act of being free to lower your defenses and
be who you are. Share your desires and pursue your dreams...hand in
hand, for as long as you can...we get one shot and settling is a path
to defeat.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And if you're alone?
Do what you can...in whatever form that looks like to offer a glimpse
behind those parapets. Try...as I am, to share some of your own
light. Maybe...just maybe, it'll light another's way. It's a worthy
wish from a famous quote...</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Worthy are the
broken...that rise again and again.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I hear you
babe...softly whispering my dear honey.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-13575556787757070692017-10-07T04:26:00.001-07:002017-10-07T04:26:27.186-07:00The Honey Rule...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Honey Rule...</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shortly after honey and I first became
a couple, I realized that she struggled with depression and low self
esteem. It was something that she really tried very hard to hide from
the world but those few she got close too saw it. She could become
withdrawn and sullen, at times those feelings of worthlessness would
overwhelm her and bring her too tears.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Her way of counteracting this was
exercise and throwing herself fully into a cause that had a high
probability of failure...and I would watch in amazement as she tilted
against the windmills of her heart while loving and sharing herself
with strangers. It was this undaunted spirit that I feel hopelessly
in love with...at the time, it was also that vulnerability that
called to me....and spoke to my soul.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We are all shaped by our experiences
and by our reactions (or lack thereof) to those circumstances. We are
driven by complexities that we cannot always explain...but we do
<i>feel </i><span style="font-style: normal;">it. Honey and I shared
many of the same traits, we just executed them in dynamically
different ways. Where she would embrace and encourage the broken and
the lost, I would charge in looking to confront the cause...she once
asked me if I'd always run towards the sound of gunfire. She called
it, “White Knight Syndrome.” My response was a shrug and a
grunt...to which she'd rolled her eyes. Like all couples, it took us
time to learn about each other and breach the walls that we all build
to shelter our innermost self's. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">We all
harbor pain and scars...the causes are as different and unique as the
individual but the intensity is universal. It's when we trust another
enough to share these that true love begins...my sweet girl taught me
(painstakingly) that to make peace with some things, you had to first
embrace it. I taught her that you also had to also let it go. As
flawed people, this is often easier said than done. So...long ago,
honey and I made a rule. It sounds simple but it took us a few years
to both figure it out and implement it faithfully. The rule was
this...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">No
matter the circumstance or reason, you are allowed just ONE pity pot
day in any given week. No exceptions...no excuses. On that day you
could cry, vent, sulk or be pissed at the world and bemoan the
injustice of it all. As partners, on that day you could be as
supportive or as distant as required. What you could NOT do was try
to fix or rationalize the other's feelings or dismiss the validity of
that feeling. Period. As a man, this was especially difficult for
me...I wanted to FIX it! It took time to realize that fixing some
things isn't possible...no matter what. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">We
held each other to that standard...usually with good humor and love.
Even throughout her worst trials and illness. We came to this
agreement with the mutual understanding that life is short and
uncertain and that it was counterproductive to waste precious days
not enjoying each other and living. It led to some odd conversations
when one or the other would exhibit blue behaviors beyond a day...
this is from when she was very sick.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Coming
home from work and coming to the top of the stairs, I'd found her
staring out the sliding glass doors at the rain drenched morning.
Knowing she'd been depressed and angry the day before, I'd kissed her
lightly on her head, asking how she was doing. Sullen, she'd replied.
</span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Same
as everyday...like shit.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">My
heart breaking, I'd sat next to her and taken her hand. Replying
softly. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Yeah...I
know. Can I get you anything?” Shaking her head she'd sighed,
answering. “I think God's forgotten me.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">As
most of you know, honey was the more faithful one of us...blinking
tears, I'd slide off the couch and knelt in front of her. Taking both
hands, I'd gently tugged her forward until our foreheads touched.
Kissing her nose, I'd said hoarsely.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">Not
possible. I bug the shit out'a him several times an hour.”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Shaking
her head, a smile ghosting her mouth, she'd said. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">I'm
gonna have to apologize for you everywhere I go, aren't I?” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Kissing
her and tracing her arms with my fingertips, I'd swallowed hard and
whispered. “Yup!”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Wiping
each other's tears, she'd added. “I gotta get off the pot, huh.” </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Wrapping
my arms around her and burying me head in her neck, she'd held me
while I sobbed. Stroking my head she'd softly chided me. “One day a
week boy...you already had yours...”</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I
remember telling her that sometimes this rule really sucks...and at
that we'd both sniffed and chuckled. Squeezing each other hard...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-style: normal;">But
it works...” she whispered. It did...it does. For us anyway way. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Yesterday
marked three months without you my honey. I slept very little...four
hours in the last 36...even with Xanax, which I detest. I've had my
day honey...I hear you...But I miss your smile, your touch and
laughter...but more than that...your heart. Your faith in me and in
us...I knew without asking that you'd be there. Unflinchingly at my
back when I rushed in...as I was for you. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I miss
our frank conversations and the moments of comfortable silence when
we could just be...the tiny things. Smelling your hair as I held you
from behind while you were at the stove or waiting for coffee.
Holding your hand...dancing with you in the store...at the
mailbox...the way you always woke me with a kiss. So many happy
moments in time...it's the tiny details that stand out and I realize
it was because of that silly rule...the one were we made each other
accountable for the other's happiness. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">So...for
you my darling, I keep trying. Trying to see the world as you
did...as a place to be explored and enjoyed at every opportunity. I
try...to hope and believe...to share as I can. I don't know if it
really matters to anyone but it does to me. It's here that I feel you
the most...were the pain is bearable. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I
don't know what's next...if there is a time or a place when I can get
beyond daydreaming, wishing and lounging too fulfilling those
promises. I know so few things these days...except that I'm thankful
for the time we had. I'm trying hard to not be resentful of it not
being more...I love you babe. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Now
and always, Tammy Jean...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-42691928334025465782017-09-23T14:03:00.000-07:002017-09-23T14:03:20.133-07:00The First Time...<br />
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<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 6px;">
The First Time</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
A honey-ism...<br />I promised to add these as I can and this is a fulfillment of that. Though she's gone, I am forever thankful for all she gave me. My honey and I had a very non traditional courtship. It was a slow fuse burning from two very different perceptions.<br />That first year I slowly fell in love as I watched this incredibly challenged person give so freely of herself to others. Her enthusiasm was infectious and when she smiled it was with genuine feeling. From her perspective, she saw a man with an iron will (read stubborn) that loved his students and truly wanted only to see them become the best people they could be.<br />Much later honey would tell me the only time she ever saw me smile was when I was encouraging a student, wether it was an adult or a child....</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
She said it made her wonder what was hidden behind that gruff exterior...and why it was kept so tightly controlled. After our ride in the rain, I was hopelessly hooked. My sweet girl however, was not. Her divorce was only just beginning and she battled with the feelings of guilt and self recrimination that are a part of that process. She tried to adhere to a strictly teacher and student protocol and I knew that pressing her would only drive her away....and so it went for many weeks. Polite conversation in passing, a touch on my arm or that brilliant smile when she was crusading for one cause or another. </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
I'd tried to casually invite her to lunch a few weekends to no avail...it was late summer and in Tennessee that means hot and muggy. I'd noticed that she'd starting wearing simple, lightweight pullover dresses instead of jeans or workout attire. She was quite simply, gorgeous. I'd all but given up our relationship (if you could call it that) moving past that one incident. </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
So imagine my surprise when on another Sunday afternoon, she again came to the school knocking on the door. I still remember the dress...a brilliant purple, run through with an array of yellow, silver and golds in a random pattern. Long, about mid calf and simple open toed sandals. I must have stood gawking because I remember her laughing and asking me if I was gonna let her in anytime soon. </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Fumbling with the glass industrial doors latch, I'd opened it and as she passed, I could smell the light perfume she wore. My heart fluttered and I reverted to a sixteen year old boy again...nervous and unsure of myself. Locking the door, I retreated to my office mumbling about paperwork and she followed. Sitting on the front edge of my desk, I'd asked what I could do for her. Stopping in front of me, honey had smiled and said that she'd been praying about me. My first thought was.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
“Oh shit.”</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Stepping closer, she'd whispered. “Actually I've been praying for you my entire life.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, she'd kissed me. Softly, tenderly at first but with an increasing passion that soon had me on my feet, pressing her into the nearest wall. Busy hands soon left us both breathless, panting with lust and need...but strange as it sounds, I didn't want our first physical encounter to be in such a setting. I'd wanted it to be special...I truly wanted her to know that she could trust me. </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
I remember looking deep into those blue eyes and knowing that she was the one...her nails were lightly scratching my back and I knew she wore nothing under that thin dress. Honey rarely did...but with trembling hands, I'd held her sweet face and promised that we'd do this...( My body was screaming NOW!) but that I wanted to get us a room. I was living with friends at the time, so there was no “my place.” I recall the intensity of her eyes as they locked onto mine...searching, beseeching. Finally, she'd giggled, shaking her head and replying. </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
“You are a very different man, Jim.” </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Being as I was already internally kicking myself, I'd grinned and said. “Is that good or bad?”</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Kissing my nose, she'd said simply. “We'll see.” </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
After she left a short time later I reserved a room (for the next weekend) in an upscale hotel with all the trimmings. Hot tub in the room, indoor pool, ect. The day before I bought flower's and wine along with several scented candles...it was very cliché but in my defense, I was fairly young! On the early evening of that fateful day, I meet honey in the parking lot. We were both nervous but she was absolutely stunning. A pale yellow sundress...tiny earrings and very little makeup. Bright red lipstick. I took her hand and led her up to our room. </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Opening the door, she'd been a little taken aback by the burning candles and the flowers in a vase. Closing the door, I'd turned to her and asked if it was ok. Honey had only nodded, throwing herself into my arms, kissing me passionately. We made love as all strangers do...overwhelmed, yet insistently. Sated, I looked down into her eyes and was shocked to find her crying! My initial thought was,</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
“Oh my God! I must really SUCK at this!” </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Not very romantic, I know. Wiping away at her tears, I'd tried to ask what I'd done wrong and in response she'd just pulled me closer and held on tightly while she sobbed. As you might imagine, every single thing going through my head was self criticism. </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
“Idiot!” “She realized you're nothing but a mistake!” “Was I THAT bad??!!” </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
As honey settled down, I was stammering apologies....mortified. Taking my ears in her hands, she'd gently tugged me forward again, kissing me softly, she'd explained that those were tears of joy...that'd she'd never experienced anything that had touched her that way. She'd said...</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
“I felt your heart and your soul. I was a part of you...” </div>
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px 0px;">
My turn for tears...both then and now. On that day I learned that the physical aspect of making love was just the tiniest part of what's possible. I learned about greatness and touched divinity...My love now and forever, my sweetest honey.</div>
</div>
<div class="_3x-2" style="font-family: inherit;">
<div data-ft="{"tn":"H"}" style="font-family: inherit;">
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
</div>
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</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-26219614998771959672017-09-19T05:22:00.000-07:002017-09-19T05:22:01.251-07:00Between Love And Hope<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Between
Love And Hope</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I've spent a lot of time
lately wondering about this place that sooner or later we all
experience. This hollow place between love and hope...I think we
define this as grief. It's like standing in the middle of a tunnel
through the mountains. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">You can clearly see two
distinct pinpoints of light...you know what they are and where they
lead and yet you're frozen. Unable to move in either
direction...because you know, each step forward is
painful...searingly so. Much better than to remain here...numb and
immobile. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It's said that grief is a
passage and that is truth but the passage also has many stops and the
occasional derailment along the way. It is here that I ponder...where
can I possibly hope to go? Worse still...why would I? That which I
most desire is irretrievably lost and beyond my reach. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Forever...I don't know.
Oh, my sweet girl...I just don't know! </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm not new to loss.
Grand-parents, siblings and comrades, even my mother but this seems
to tear at my soul. Does that mean I loved those people less or you
more...does an answer to that question have some meaningful
application? I wish I knew. I only know that for me, losing you was
akin to amputating the best parts of who I am....or was. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Through this void a steady
winds blows, sometimes as gentle as a summers breeze rustling the
leaves at sunset or without warning, the shrieking howl of sudden
decompression at high altitude. My reactions range from misty eyed
sorrow to gut wrenching bawling...I mourn not only your loss but all
of the unfulfilled dreams we'd held...is this selfish? Probably.
Intellectually I understand all of this but my heart gives not one
damn about logic or reason...it only wants you. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I am fortunate that many
people, friends and strangers alike have not only offered but DO take
my hand and try to help guide me forward. A kind word, a call or even
a video or picture (technology is sometimes genuinely useful.) and I
am deeply grateful and thankful to all of you for each of these acts
of kindness. I'm quite sure that from their perspectives, it's akin
to dealing with a petulant child...each step forward is often
accompanied by being dragged back three. For your patience, I am
humbled...and for those whom have remained steadfast, I beg your
forgiveness. I am trying...</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">With my upcoming
surgeries, a co-worked recently asked if I was afraid of dying. I
replied as I have in the past. (due to my career choices) No. I've
never been afraid of dying...I've been afraid of many other things in
my life but never my own death. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The impending death of my
beloved honey terrified me...it was beyond my ability to control or
influence. I could only react to each new affront on her body...each
day was like walking blindly through a minefield. You pray for the
miraculous, dreading the eventual explosion. Anyone who has been a
caregiver knows this state of extended anxiety and dread. Then
there's the guilt...could I have done some things sooner? Was I
present enough...real or imagined failings, the intensity is the
same. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">These past months have
been the most difficult in my life...before now, I've never felt
lost. She grounded me and gave me purpose...for those that know me
well, the thing I fear most some days is simple. Another day in this
new reality. I'm not suicidal...I'm not wired that way but it's
difficult to paste on a smile and pretend everything is ok. It's not.
</span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I often use humor and goal
setting as a coping mechanism. I also write things out... it's my
process. I've made some long range plans...I set into to motion the
goal of replacing my knees. A promise to my honey...things happen. An
infected finger has put those scheduled procedures back weeks
now...maybe a month or more. Ordinarily, I adapt and roll with it but
I'm just...weary and uncommonly blue. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">For those unfamiliar with
type A personalities, let's just say that accepting <i>anything </i><span style="font-style: normal;">as
unchangeable through force of will and just plain stubbornness is
challenging. My sweet girl used to tell me, </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">You
can't change the universe to meet your demands.” I'd typically
grin, replying. “Wanna bet?!” </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">She'd
roll her eyes and shake her head but it usually worked out. I don't
like losing...or failing...and this somehow feels like both. I feel
like I let her down...irrational as that may sound, it's what my
heart tells me. Dammit. All. To. Hell. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Ok...so,
I've vented, had my pity pot day...actually two. I can almost feel
the head smack...the rule is ONE! Today, I'll dust myself off and get
up...life doesn't wait for anyone. It just continues, with or without
you. I guess it's a lot like jumping into the middle of a pair of
blurring jump ropes...you can participate or watch. Jumping in you
risk being tripped up and maybe even falling...but watching isn't
living...it's existing. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I'd
promised...live my life...yes dear. Even when I suck at
skipping...and have no rhythm. Bring on the whelps and bruises! </span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-41017365402142086952017-09-04T08:47:00.000-07:002017-09-04T08:47:00.427-07:00A Labor Da Honey-ism<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A honey-ism...On
this long weekend most of us try to get in that last camping trip or
other favorite outdoor activity. The weather can be contrary this
time of year as true summer begins to ebb and fall isn't yet fully
upon us. The night are cooler and it's the perfect time to leave the
windows open at night...my sweet girl was always wistful this time of
year. Being a sun bunny, she loved being outdoors but enjoyed the
brilliant colors of fall too.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our small deck was
where she'd spent most of her final time here on earth...and since
her passing, I've not been able to cross that threshold...until
yesterday. Saturday was spent furiously cleaning the upper level of
our condo. I deep cleaned <i>everything </i><span style="font-style: normal;">in
preparation for my upcoming surgeries. I even managed to uncover her
elliptical machine (where I'd draped all her coats and light
jacket's) and put her clean and folded clothes into the dresser
downstairs, along with the assorted foot wear, left scattered in our
bedroom and laundry room. These small task took an inordinate amount
of time to complete...it was a tearful and heart wrenching
experience...and I still cannot bring myself to take down her
bathroom robes or the numerous cooking aprons hanging as they always
have...it took most of the day and left me in a funk...but honey and
I had a rule...you are allowed ONE day on the pity pot...only ONE in
any given week, no matter the circumstances. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">So...Sunday
morning, with her stern whisper in my heart, I set out to complete
some of the task I'd been putting off (mending some pant's) and was
determined to use our grill to make steaks and chicken for the
upcoming week. Returning from the store, I'd prepped the meat and
then turned my attention to the pack of needles and thread I'd
bought. I couldn't find honey's kit and truthfully just couldn't make
myself look very hard. A word here....as a young man, my father had
taught us the basics of sewing. Simple stuff...but I'd not actually
done any sewing in DECADES. I had a pair of tactical pants that
needed a button put back on and a pair of jeans with a broken belt
loop. Easy right? I'd certainly thought so....</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">First
off, threading the damn needle itself proved to an exercise in
patience worthy of a saint! I didn't remember the holes being that
</span><i>small! </i><span style="font-style: normal;">After muttering
oaths under my breath for nearly twenty minutes...success! I pushed
the needle effortlessly through the material and plopped the button
right over it...easy peasy...EXCEPT for when I tried to repeat the
process....for the next half hour, I poked my damn finger TWICE,
broke the thread once and ended up with a fishing spool looking snarl
on the backside that I managed to tie down and secure...who's gonna
see it, right? The belt loop??? Holy frick'n, mother pucker!!!! :o(
Two bent needles, three poked finger's AND a thigh!!! The pant's very
nearly went to the grill...I was seriously considering setting them
on FIRE! All the while, I swear I could hear faint snickering...my
honey would've been rolling. I know she'd have rescued me after the
first (maybe the second) blood letting... but she'd have giggled the
whole time! </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I
knew there was a reason I'd outsourced this sorta thing....</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">So
after bandaging my sore fingers, I had two completed (albeit
bloodstained) pair of pants repaired...FYI...anybody asks and you can
bet there'll be a better tale for the bloodstains than the truth! ;o)</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Grilling
and the making of the sides (Fried potatoes with onions and garlic
sweet peas) was a bittersweet experience. We'd always done these
things together...and while I'd enjoyed the meal (I have TON'S of
left overs!) it left me melancholy. I'm not much of a drinker...two
“girlie” beer's and I've usually had enough...but sipping one as
the sun went down, I'd watched the contrails of a high altitude jet
and thought of my girl...yes, there where a few tears...but they
where mostly from good memories...lot's of them...of similar evenings
shared together. Lying on lawn chairs or a blanket on the ground,
hand in hand and just...being. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">As
the stars came out; I realized I'd been staring upwards for some
time. The jet was long gone and my tears had dried but the memories
of my sweet girl left a warmth in my heart and a wisp of a smile on
my face...I feel you baby. Alway and forever my honey...</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-80350664465786468412017-08-29T05:30:00.000-07:002017-08-29T05:30:22.817-07:00What Would Honey Do?<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What
Would Honey Do?</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I
reached for you this morning...as I have every morning for these past
eighteen years. In all that time, you've never disappointed me...even
when you where already up...I could feel you...smell the faint scent
on your pillow or the lingering aroma of coffee, wafting through the
cracked door.
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
How I
miss your morning smile and the “Hey baby!” greeting so often
used when I'd stumbled from our bedroom door, usually headed to the
bathroom. With rare exception, my coffee would be waiting when I
emerged along with a kiss and a touch of greeting....fifty four
days...1320 hours...79,200 minutes since you've been gone... Lord how
I miss you!
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
routines we all take for granted...those little things are the ones
that cause the biggest aches. I freely admit to being spoiled.
Rotten. My lunches were always made, dinner ready (even when you
worked) and I was greeted at the door with a hug and a kiss...always.
These things we did for each other...I too, packed your snacks,
checked your bag or gear and loved on you coming and going. It wasn't
a chore or a task...we <i>wanted </i><span style="font-style: normal;">to
take care of each other! Your vehicle was always gassed and clean and
we shared in all of the daily details of living together...well,
except the laundry...you'd banned me from that! I realize now that we
never argued over these things or made task list. We each just did
whatever need to be done...gladly and when possible, together. </span>
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Grocery
shopping, cooking and cleaning...I can still see you holding that
expensive and </span><i>shrunken </i><span style="font-style: normal;">to
a child's sized sweater...rolling your eyes and declaring the laundry
room off limits...I STILL swear it was an honest mistake! :o) </span>
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">My
greatest joys where taking you on new adventures...in fulfilling your
wants and dreams. We weren't rich...far from it but it doesn't take
money...just time...that most precious commodity of all. You
encouraged and believed in me without question and I in you. I was so
proud of my sweet and loving girl...even when you gave away our
cookware or my bicycle and God knows what else to strangers in
need...I couldn't help but love you. It's who you were...</span></div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">You
my love, taught me to be kinder and more forgiving...to see the world
and those in it not necessarily as they were but as they </span><i>could
</i><span style="font-style: normal;">be...with a helping hand and a
little care. Common sense and color blindness dictated your
actions...you always tried to simply do what was right..not what was
politically correct. There were no special groups, everyone was
equal...excepting children...any and </span><i>all </i><span style="font-style: normal;">of
those held your heart. The world could use more of that...a lot more
of that actually. You taught me that there is a greatness in the
smallest of actions...you believed, even when at times you doubted
yourself. I'm trying to match your enthusiasm...your zeal for life
and those around you...no easy task my dearest honey. Sometimes in
that moment between sleep and wakefulness I can hear you, whispering
to my heart...I try then to hold you...to freeze that fraction of
time forever. If only I could...just a bit longer... but of course
each time I fail no matter how hard I try. </span>
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">It
hurts...this life without you. In all of our preparations even now a
part of my denies the reality...clings stubbornly to that thread of
hope...even though I know it's a lie. I so badly </span><i>want </i><span style="font-style: normal;">it
to be true! This is the undying part of love...the memories that live
on. For all that they hurt, I cherish them darling...now and always
my honey. </span>
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I've
yet to have a day without tears...most are from sorrow...selfishly
wanting MORE...just one more minute to hold you...to take your hand
and again bask in your beautiful soul...but some are from joy...the
gladness that the agony you were suffering has ended and too from a
guilt that I kept you too long. I know that many of the things you
tried, those treatments were for me...because I couldn't bear the
thought of letting you go...I'm sorry baby...truly. I'm trying to
make peace with that...to forgive myself for such selfishness...but
you know me...it will take time. </span>
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">I'm
coming to realize that you are and will always be an inseparable part
of me. You my dearest honey, changed me without trying, without
demanding but through your shining example into a better man and a
more complete human being. SO...now and forever I will ask...WWHD?
What Would Honey Do? </span>
</div>
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div align="JUSTIFY" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
One
step at a time my love...forward...one step at a time.
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-82392062677242748092017-08-10T19:24:00.000-07:002017-08-10T19:24:08.976-07:00Real Love<br />
<div class="entry-actions" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="entry-body" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
I was going through honey's computer today...making sure I got pictures that I didn't have, ect. This was the machine she used for college, so there TONS of documents on it but I came across a bunch of titles that I thought were odd and sure enough, there is a (to me) treasure trove of little things she jotted down but never showed me...this is one of them. Yup....I cried...a lot. </div>
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
<br /></div>
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
This is a family poem. I am writing about the love that my husband shows me. It is about me running my first marathon.</div>
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
Real Love </div>
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
My day has started it’s 4am The coffee is brewing my bag is packed I’m running in circles and there he calmly stands The love of my life picking up my slack</div>
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
Without question he will get me going Thinking of all the little things I forgot He takes such care of me without even knowing Never given to himself a single thought </div>
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
The race has started and he waits patiently to the end Taking pictures and yelling you’ve got this doll My wonderful husband my greatest fan Meets me at the finish line standing proud and tall</div>
<div class="status-text" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; white-space: pre-line; word-break: break-word; word-wrap: break-word;">
True love he shows is so many ways The test of time has come and gone I cherish the way he loves me every day And my love for him will forever be strong </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-34267511903078289182017-08-06T09:27:00.000-07:002017-08-06T09:27:23.617-07:00A Month Without...<div style="background-position: 0px 0px; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; font-family: 'Source Serif Pro', serif; font-size: 21px; line-height: 32px; margin-bottom: 3.2rem; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
This morning I woke up and for the briefest of moments, I had a thought that felt normal. Before I was fully awake my mind was in the process of planning to celebrate one of the few traditional holidays that I've always insisted on. My Honey's birthday...which is tomorrow. </div>
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Of course when my eyes opened, my new reality came crashing down with a intensity that took my breath away...today, August the 6th 2017 marks the first full month without my girl. Cancer took her from me, one month and one day before her 51st birthday. Call it premonition or whatever you will; my sweet girl told me a little over a year ago that she had dreamed of this fact...she knew she would not live to see this birthday. </div>
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At the time I'd dismissed it as a manifestation of fear. A normal reaction to someone battling such a disease. We'd cuddled together in our bed and she'd drifted off as I ran my fingers softly through her hair, massaging her scalp...but I remember staring at the ceiling for a very long time...listening to the light buzz of her snore and breathing in her scent. Every man, every couple knows that unique feeling...breathing in the mix of smells that belongs only to your soulmate. It can excite or calm and it is forever intoxicating...I would give all that I have for just one more minute of holding her on my chest. </div>
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They say that grief never ends...that it changes into something more bearable. I believe that...I cling to it...some moments in desperation. Like now. I miss you babe...and I know that I always will...but you asked me to make some promises to you and I will honor them as best I can. </div>
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Some of them I'll share here...but many I won't. Simply because I haven't a clue as to how, when or if I'll be capable of honoring her request. As always, my dearest honey put my needs and happiness before her own...I returned it whole heartedly...it's what you do when you truly love each other. It creates balance...stability...trust...and the ability to face and overcome unfathomable adversity. Because you do it together...because you KNOW that all that matters is that you have each other on the other side of whatever it is that you're facing. We did that...always...but I'm struggling to do it alone...she completed me and made me a better man. She taught me to look for the goodness in all things and situations. Her loving beacon made it easy to hope and dream...</div>
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So...what did the love of my life want for her birthday? The one she felt certain she wouldn't see...she wanted me to attend to my health. Primarily, to have my knee joints replaced. It's something I've put off for a very long time and one of the few contentions we've had the past few years. I see a surgeon the 28th and I suspect the actual surgery will be in early September. I had new scans a week ago confirming what I already knew...total replacement is the only option and recovery is 3-4 months (per knee) which is why I'll be having them both done at once or at least within a few days of another. </div>
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Can I afford it? Not really but I found a way...not one I like but a way. Is it painful? Yes. Very...but pain and I are old comrades. They've (my knees) hurt for years, steadily getting worse. As usual, my girl's gotten her wish...I'm not sure how rehab's going to work yet as I live in a condo with LOTS of stairs but I'll figure it out...yes dear. </div>
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She wanted me to stay close to family and our boys...to mourn and move forward. I'm trying babe. Really, I am. To get back to work on my writing...to create the stories that she so loved reading and encouraging me to work on. Hence this piece today, when all I really want to do is pull the covers back over my head. </div>
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I hear you dear...whispering to my heart. It's what keeps me going...as I look back and flip through the photo albums we accumulated over the years. In nearly every shot you're smiling and happy....as am I. Was it perfect? God no...I made so many mistakes...but we got through them together. We loved hard and trusted in each other...we were real and goofy. We danced in the rain and in the middle of Walmart...I held you often and stole kisses every chance I got, sometimes to your annoyance and embarrassment. </div>
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We laughed at life and each other...we lived in the moment and focused on what we had and dreamed forward, never dwelling long on the "YaBut's." You taught me what love is...what it CAN and SHOULD be! </div>
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I promised that I would pay that forward eventually and share that beacon with another...I don't know if that's possible. I think that if you're VERY lucky, we find a soulmate once in life. My honey believed in the best of people...in the capacity of love and of the importance of a helping hand and a loving heart and the ripples it caused...changing lives in ways you might never see. I've seen it...and of late been the recipient of it, so I know it's true. </div>
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All I can say for now is that I will strive to help others and restrain my more cynical nature. I love you my sweet Tammy Jean...now and always...forever in my heart. I will celebrate tomorrow silently...but eternally because on this day, whatever powers there may be, blessed me with the time I had with you. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-55148741466953156302017-07-25T05:24:00.000-07:002017-07-25T05:24:24.335-07:00Honey's Last Days...<div class="_1dwg _1w_m" style="font-family: inherit; padding: 12px 12px 0px;">
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A honey-ism of a different sort...this is my attempt to both honor her courage and spirit, yet also purge some of the darkness from her last days. I may never share this...but if I do, be forewarned there will be tears and sorrow....there is no happy ending. It's very much about human suffering and the remarkable capacities our bodies have to not only endure it but defy it.</div>
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It's about the love that binds us and allows us to make great sacrifices for each other...to bear helpless witness to the atrocities of disease...of age and of the realities that we will all one day face...death. In the end all of the things we accumulate, the degrees and honors we've earned are not what we will be remembered by. What remains is how you lived...who's life's did you touch and make better? Did you make a difference? </div>
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These are the questions that my honey asked often...and with rare exception, she doubted her contributions. Doubt or no, she firmly believed that if you planted a seed; however small that it would blossom and in so doing cause a ripple effect impacting others that you would never meet. Her optimism was just one of the things that I loved about her. She always gave more than she took...at times to my annoyance. </div>
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I've written of our last camping trip which we took a mere two weeks before her final day. Even then we both assumed we had many weeks, perhaps even months left. She was weak, only able to shuffle ten or fifteen feet at a time but still eating and drinking. A few days into our trip, she started to noticeably slur her words sometimes...we both knew this was trouble but she was determined to enjoy this time. We spoke of it late one evening and she told me bluntly.<br />“If I'm to die, then here is ok. I'm surrounded by my family and doing what I want.”<br />She'd held me while I'd sobbed...soothing me as best she could. When the tears tapered off, she'd handed me a Kleenex and kissed me very softly, telling me.<br />“It's ok boy.” <br />It wasn't...not really but what else could we do? With few exceptions (she would vomit without warning) we had a great week. It was cool for her (75 degrees) so she kept her jacket on and had a blanket handy. I know it annoyed her...my honey has always loved being outside and in the sun. She pushed HARD and by Saturday morning she was exhausted. After eating lightly, it didn't take a lot of convincing to get her to lay down and take a nap, under one condition. I'd wake her up to help prepare dinner for my brother and his wife's anniversary dinner. </div>
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My brother Joe and his wife Lisa are extraordinary people...twenty nine years together...under some of the most trying conditions. An amazing network of family...parents, grown children and life long friends...they all loved my girl and she them in return. My honey's exact words where, </div>
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“I'll be DAMNED if Lisa is going to cook her own anniversary dinner!” I've been with my girl a while, so I saluted and said smartly. “YES MA'AM!” And so, with the help of Lisa's Mom, Tj and I cooked the majority of their dinner. Nobody left for McDonalds, so it must'a been ok. <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="smile emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v9/f4c/1/16/1f642.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;">:)</span></span></div>
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We went to bed early and said our goodbyes the next morning. She slept most of the way home (it's about five hours) but after a rest stop, which of course necessitated getting out her wheelchair and O2 tank, she asked me.<br />“Would you like me to drive a while?” She was quite serious. </div>
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Smiling, I told her thank you but I'd be alright. After getting her back into the car and the gear stowed, I was sliding into the drivers seat and she taken my hand, squeezing it as hard as she was able to. When I'd looked at her, she'd smiled a little sadly before saying softly.<br />“I'm so sorry you're having to do everything.”<br />Gently returning her squeeze, I kissed her forehead and told her not to worry about such nonsense. My honey just nodded and sighed. As we pulled back onto the highway, she asked again.<br />“You want me to drive for a while?” Fighting tears, I'd squeezed her leg and told her I'd be ok. A few minutes later she was sound asleep...</div>
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Getting back home and unloading all of the equipment took some time, when everything was setup and ready I went and got my girl and we prepared to walk up the fourteen steps to the main living level. With my bad knees, (no cartilage in either one) the passage is painful more often than not. I'd offered to carry her up and of course she refused but it was apparent every step she took was a monumental effort for her. It took several rest breaks and about ten minutes or so but we went up, with me holding her waist from behind to steady her. At the top, she relented and let me get her wheeled walker so she could set on it and I could push her to the couch. </div>
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Once I got her settled and had her some water and the assorted paraphernalia she kept on her little TV table, I plopped down in our big chair and as tired as I was, my girl was completely exhausted. Even so, she'd chided me about getting my knees fixed. It was an old argument but it brought a smile to my face which annoyed her. She'd said, “What's so funny?”</div>
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Chuckling, I got up and kissed her answering. “You are! My focus is YOU! My knee's will keep.”<br />Becoming whimsical, she'd stated. “I think that's the last time I'll beat you up those stairs.” </div>
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I'd sat by her and we'd talked about our trip and the boy's upcoming arrival, then only four days away. I had no idea then of how quickly things would change...I believe my girl did or that she at least had a feeling of it. I didn't know that she'd elicited a promise from my sister in law...to make sure I wasn't alone when she passed.<br />She'd gotten several promises from me during our week away as well. One was that if it was possible, her boys not be there until the very end. She didn't want that to be their last memory of her. I think she hung on until she got that wish...stubborn until the end. </div>
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I went to work that Monday and Tuesday evening but by Wednesday afternoon it was clear she needed a hospital style bed, so our hospice team made it happen. I cancelled her regular doctors appointment which was scheduled for Thursday morning over her protest. She wasn't upset over stopping the big shots she'd been getting once a month but she truly loved her physician and the staff and wanted to visit with them. I knew she'd be unable to make it back up the stairs....at least not without the real risk of her falling. Even as sick as she was, having my honey pissed at you wasn't any fun! </div>
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I finally got her to relent by telling her I'd reschedule it after our oldest son arrived so he could help me. That calmed her down and I picked our son (David) up later that morning. Our youngest would arrive two days later, along with my brother, his wife and their daughter and her boyfriend. Since the plant I worked for was starting it's planned shutdown, I'd been scheduled to go to dayshift and stay until the 9th of July. Honey and I had a plan in place for this...it just didn't work out that way. </div>
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Since there was family present, I worked that three day weekend..Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Each evening when I came home after my 12 hour shift, the changes were drastic. That evening, July the 2nd my honey seemed to be quickly fading. Her breathing was labored and she dozed in and out of consciousness. I called the hospice nurse and while we waited for them to arrive, both of our grown boys poured their hearts out to their mom...it was heart breaking and meaningful at the same time. When they had finished, I knelt down and tearfully began to whisper my own goodbyes...I'd barely started when she opened her eyes and looked at me directly, very clearly saying. “That'll be enough of that stuff!”<br />My mouth clicked shut with an audible snap. About that time the nurse showed up and my honey wanted to know what all the fuss was about...REALLY??<br />After taking her vitals and reassuring us that this was fairly normal but warning us that my girl could go at any time. The nurse left and we all sat around both stunned and bemused...while it might be normal medically, it was certainly not what we had been expecting. Our original plan was that I work until our boys flew out (the 4th & 5th ) and that we'd do a hospice transfer until I returned to nights. I cancelled all of that. Fortunately, my work was more than understanding when I told them Monday morning that I couldn't leave her anymore. </div>
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Both of our boys wanted to extend their stays but my honey nixed that. She told them to get back to their fiance's. Each morning for the next two days my girl would ask who was still here...it was a checklist for her. My brother and his wife stayed. As did their daughter and her boyfriend until they were forced to leave on the fourth, along with our youngest son. Those two days were both difficult and amazing. Even though her speech was slurred and her body was failing (she could no longer sit up unassisted) the conversations she had with those that loved her are something I will always cherish. </div>
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Her oncology doctor called her at home and spoke at length with her. She'd missed not seeing her at her scheduled appointment! When asked how she was doing, my girl had replied.<br />“I'm fine. How are YOU doing? Did you enjoy your vacation?” She'd remembered that her physician had told her she'd be on vacation for the two weeks before her appointment...incredible. When she was finished, honey said. “I love you too Amy.”<br />Taking the phone I could tell that her doctor was trying very hard to be professional but that she too was quite emotional. We spoke a few minutes and she told me she'd be conferring with her hospice physician first thing in the morning. </div>
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My girl did a quite a few things that were in my opinion, pretty fantastic in hindsight. She would remember things that I or even all of us had forgotten. She made only one demand during this ordeal...she wanted a slushie. Cherry. Right now. This was later on Monday evening and while I was scratching my head trying to figure out WHERE to get a plain cherry slushie from (along with everyone else!) my girl shook her head in disbelief, telling us all.<br />“They have them in the movie theater.”<br />DUH! She was right! My wonderful niece, Alyssa went with her boyfriend Dan and got her one. To my delight and surprise, honey drank about a quarter of it. Sipping happily, she'd thanked them and questioned where they'd got it from. Bittersweet. </div>
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I know that the hardest part (one of them anyway) was when she'd wake up and not remember what was wrong with her. She'd realize how weak she was and look at her arms and legs, panicking she'd exclaim. “What's WRONG with me?!” It would take me snuggling close and whispering lies to calm her....”You're ok babe...ssh....it's alright...I'm right here.” Eventually she'd drift back off...but it kept me awake for nearly three days.<br />After our youngest son had left along with our niece, late on the fourth. She'd asked again about who was still here and specifically when our oldest, David was leaving. I'd told her and she'd nodded, asking. “Where's Lisa.”<br />I replied. “She's here babe.” Another nod and she said “That's good then.” she'd drifted off mid nod and all I could do was weep. Lisa had pushed our big, overstuffed chair next to the bed and with few exceptions, I hadn't left it. Very early on the morning of the 5th, sometime between three and four, I remember my girls eyes opening abruptly and as they locked with mine she said very clearly.<br />“I apologize.” Moving inches from her face I'd asked her what she thought she had to apologize for and she'd replied. “For leaving you.” I'd kissed her softly and cried as she drifted away. It was the last thing she'd say to me. Our oldest son left late that day and he'd thought she was completely gone because she wasn't responsive...but I knew she was still there...deep inside herself, away from the pain and humiliation of her body. I could feel her...</div>
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I dozed off in the early morning hours of the 6th and I startled awake, jerking upright in my chair. Lisa was asleep in the recliner and my honey's breathing was irregular but steady...but I knew even before I smelled the urine that my dear baby had gone. She was home. I held her hand as the tears flowed...her body was still breathing, but that presence... her beacon...was gone. I don't know how long I sat there quietly sobbing but as the room got lighter I gained enough control to blow my nose and wake my dear sister in law. She knew...by my face...and because I think she too couldn't feel my girl's light any more. </div>
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I called her nurse, who said she'd be on her way and then told Lisa that I had to clean her up and change the bedding. Being the strong woman she is, she refused to let me do that alone. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do...we both sobbed the entire time...that's love. That's sacrifice. She and her entire family have made so many of them for honey and I this past two years...it's something I can never repay but it won't be for lack of trying. Anyone who's gone through something like this knows the details and the reality. Bed sores. Changing and cleaning the one that you love most of all...</div>
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Shortly, her nurse arrived and took her vitals gently telling us that while we were most likely right in our feelings, that Tj's heart was still beating strong and while she hoped it wouldn't be a long struggle, it could be simply because of her relative youth and strength. I truly believe that hospice workers and the nurses in particular are among the most special and loving people you'll ever find. </div>
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Around noon, my sweet sister-in-law along with my brother insisted I take a nap....I'd been up for quite a while and agreed under the premise that they'd wake me in four hours. I'd just laid down when Lisa knocked on the door and my heart leapt into my throat...cursing myself mentally, I flung the covers back as she entered the room and said. “It's not that...but I know you'd want to see this.”</div>
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We live in a condo. When you come up the stairs, there's the living room which is open to the kitchen. A short hallway has two bedrooms on the right and a bath on the left with a laundry room in between. Standing in the kitchen where three women I hadn't expected to see again. It was Tj's oncologist, her P.A and her head nurse...(not her hospice team) they were all tearfully there to say goodbye to my dear honey. I don't mention them by name on purpose...I wouldn't want any of them to get reprimanded. They came because they loved my girl...these dedicated professionals shed tears and hugged us all because they had come to love my sweet girl as she had loved and respected each of them. I'm still awed by it. I cried and of course thanked them for all that they had done...for all of their effort and heart. More evidence of those ripples my honey talked about so often.</div>
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They stayed much longer than I would've thought and when they'd gone my heart was lighter. It was a little after one when I laid back down...it seemed like my head had just touched the pillow when I heard the door open. It was Lisa and her face told me what I'd both dreaded and hoped for...it was a little after two pm. I came and stroked her face and kissed her forehead. I sat in my chair...taking her hand and waiting for her chest to rise. It never did. I thought I was cried out but I was wrong...after a while, I tearfully called her hospice nurse back and she came fairly quickly. Official time of death...2:35pm. </div>
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More tears after the funeral home team arrived a short time later. They'd told me I might not want to watch and that they'd be as gentle as they could...I'd nodded and stayed. Until the end...even though it was late in the afternoon, our hospice team rushed to clear out all of the equipment and reminders. I called our boys and some relatives and friends. My sister in law was in overdrive...moving furniture...cleaning, anything to distract herself and stay busy. </div>
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Within hours, those ripples my honey spoke of started returning in ways I'd never imagined. A young man (it would end up being TWO) that Tj and I had trained with but not seen in years, called from San Diego where he's station as a Marine SGT and told me he'd gotten approval for emergency leave. He'd be flying in Saturday morning. Even though he'd just returned from a 9 month deployment and had a family of his own...</div>
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Unknown even to him, his younger brother was making the 10+ hour drive and would arrive late Saturday evening...he too has a young family. They both planned on staying the week until I returned to work. They brokered no argument...they were coming. Period. </div>
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Tj and I knew their father and mother and all the siblings trained with us. They'd lost their father (my best friend) to cancer 13 years ago. So...after having stayed much longer than we'd originally planned for, my brother and his wife returned to SD Friday afternoon under protest. I'd held them and thanked them but not only did they have a small business to run but a 12 year old son that needed them too. </div>
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Jared (the first to arrive Saturday) accompanied me to pick up honeys cremated remains late that evening. As a veteran, honey also received a folded flag. She'd have been so very proud of the ramrod straight Marine that took it for her...the same young man that shed tears and held me as I sobbed at our vehicle...lost for long minutes in agony. I quite simply could not have done it without him. </div>
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When his brother arrived some time later, the reunion was again tearful but I was also overwhelmed with joy at the simple and honest love being shown to me and my dear honey. For four days we shared stories, caught up with each other and grieved openly. Although they'd planned to stay the entire week, I was able to convince them to ride home (TN) together and surprise their mother. It would give the two of them some much needed brother time and allow Jared to fly back to his family and spend a few precious days recouping before returning to the grind of inspections that all units endure when returning from a deployment. </div>
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While all of this was going on, three wonderful ladies that Tj was friends with sprang into action to setup and execute her memorial. Honey had been adamant about not having a traditional service. She wanted an outdoor gathering to celebrate her life in a casual manner. No dress clothes. Snacks and drinks, preferably a park so the kids could play. These terrific folks made that all happen. To Donna, Diane and Kim...thank you. </div>
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She got want she wanted....as my honey usually did. Her passing drove home (to me) a point she'd always tried to lead me too...that if you love others and give of yourself without expecting or demanding in return, simply do it because its the right thing to do...then the right people will reciprocate. Maybe not to you but to another person in need, then that's a life worth living...</div>
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You were right babe...it's just the tiniest piece of why everybody loved my girl. Almost as much as me.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-40791284839305662622017-07-10T08:04:00.000-07:002017-07-10T08:04:02.557-07:00Honey's Eulogy<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Honey's
Eulogy </span>
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<br />
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On July 6<sup>th</sup> 2017 my dearest
honey's pain came to an end. I'm not sure how to put into word's what
and who she was...to me, she was everything.
</div>
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<br />
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She'd battled cancer twice in the past
five years. The first was breast cancer and she beat it rather
quickly. After eleven months of treatments, she was declared 'cancer
free.' We were given a little over two years of complete remission
and during this time, we moved to Iowa to be closer to my family. My
younger brother had suffered a series of strokes and we wanted to be
closer to help him and his wife. While still four hours away, it was
the best we could manage. As it turned out, it was his family that
came to our needs when honey's cancer returned with a vengeance seven
months after our move.
</div>
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<br />
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My sweet girl has always been a giver.
She loved everyone and gave of herself freely, in time and resources.
Her constant encouragement to others and genuine desire to see them
succeed made her a beacon of hope. She was many things...a police
officer, a fitness trainer and martial artist but mostly a loving
mother to her two boys (and EVERY neighborhood kid they came in
contact with!) and my best friend. We met in a dojo at a point that
in each of our separate lives, there was chaos and discontent. It was
not love at first sight...in fact for the first year of our
association, she only came to try and knock my block off. I was her
instructor and she didn't like me very much.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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As I came to know her and witness the
joy she coaxed from others, I was awed by the passion she had to help
and trust those less fortunate, despite her own pain and deeply
hidden sorrow. I couldn't help but fall in love with her. She later
told me that I was an acquired taste...you got used to over time!
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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Her sense of humor and willingness to
tackle new challenges served her well as she went back to college.
Sadly, her illness prevented her from graduating by a mere three
semesters. She was frustrated but rarely morose by anything for long.
</div>
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<br />
</div>
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She had just turned 49 and was training
hard for her first fitness competition, which she planned on entering
for her 50<sup>th</sup> birthday when the cancer returned. We first
thought it was a training injury. Pain in her lower back, that was
eventually diagnosed as a compression fracture caused by bone cancer.
For the next 17 months she and her superb medical team aggressively
treated this terrible disease but it kept mutating to new places and
the cost on my dear honey was staggering. Throughout it all she
pushed herself to the limits and beyond. Cancer may have taken my
girl but it didn't win because she NEVER quit!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For all of her pain and misery, she
gained a family that loved and cherished her...almost as much as me.
As for all of our nearly eighteen years together, everyone loved my
girl! She brought out the best in people and in me. She made me a
better man and a better person by her shining example and unwavering
courage. God has truly recalled a special angel...
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As was her habit, long ago she left a
note in my lunchbox ( Done with colored pencils) which I kept and
framed. She thought I was silly but it struck a cord within me..it
reads.
</div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Good Morning my sweet man. :o) Thank
you for letting me be me, even when it's hard.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I love you
so much! That will NEVER change.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
See you at the
<u>finish line </u><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">in
all our races....Your Loving Wife. :o)</span></span></div>
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<br />
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I'll be along sweet baby...please be patient and wait for me.
</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-53448303394304992352017-06-29T05:52:00.000-07:002017-06-29T05:52:18.668-07:00Time...A sweet honey update....Our trip last week was a wonderful time spent with family, culminating with a four day camping trip. It was a bucket list check for my girl and she was simply ecstatic to have been able to enjoy this adventure. She ate well and had good energy for most of our time. By Saturday, she was forced to rest more and on our return Sunday, she slept for the majority of the day. This continued through Monday and I (we) simply assumed she'd overdone it a bit...we were right and simultaneously, wrong.<br />
<br />
As the first of our grown children arrived Tuesday, it quickly became apparent that she'd taken a turn for the worse. She no longer has the strength to even cross the room with assistance. The effort required to simply to sit up and attend to her lungs and change her clothing leaves her breathless and panicky...a portable toilet was delivered and it takes all her strength to use it. An assault on her dignity and her pride...she still fights...so damn hard for every inch this insidious disease takes from her but it's becoming ever more costly. In pain...in torment...even her memories are beginning to be affected and this perhaps most of all, is the worst of it.<br />
<br />
I am so incredibly proud of her. Awed by her tenacity and her strength and determination....by her capacity to love so fiercely and care so deeply that everyone she meets bask in that beacon of hope and optimism...and as selfishly as I want to cling to her...enough. I pray now only for enough time for her to see our other son, who flies in tomorrow and her family that is assembling this Sunday for her. Please God...give her this and release her from this torment. Enough.<br />
<br />
My eldest son, David has been a pillar of strength...he has his mothers heart and her stubbornness. Like his father, he tries very hard not to let his mother see his tears...we've both failed at that on occasion this week. We have work to do...a hospital bed is being delivered today, so we've got to rearrange the living room to accommodate it. My honey loves to see the outdoors and the large sliding glass window will best allow that...we'll make it happen.<br />
<br />
I thought I was beyond tears...but every still moment finds me wracked with them. Shaking uncontrollably for long moments of anguish...and rage at that which I cannot change. So....I write....when I can.<br />
<br />
Thank you all for your prayers and support. It truly has been a blessing and a harbor for us both. I'll continue to add honey-ism's as I can...I have no idea of what comes next...I know the inevitable...but I'm just numb beyond that.<br />
<br />
As always and ever...my indomitable honey, sends her love.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-80814781908042420292017-06-15T07:26:00.000-07:002017-06-15T07:26:25.302-07:00A Honey-ism...Closet CombatReflecting this morning on our early years together as I watch my sweet girl sleep, I remember the morning when I came home early and unannounced from work. Honey and I had only been living together a short time then...maybe six months. I worked the night shift as a production worker in an automotive plant and she was a second shift police officer. We had one vehicle and 'hot swapped' every day with a mere thirty minutes to spare.<br />
This was a difficult time for us financially and we were adjusting as a new family with all the baggage that comes with going through a divorce but we were happy and enthusiastic as most new couples tend to be. Then and as she has our entire marriage, my honey loved to sing when she was happy and has a beautiful voice...<br />
There'd been a major breakdown at the plant, so they'd sent the entire shift home two hours early. A rarity but a welcome change in routine and for me with the long drive, particularly appreciated. I hadn't called for fear of waking her. It was one of her days off and I'd honestly just thought it'd be an opportunity for some extra snuggle time.<br />
Entering the house, I could faintly hear honey's voice...singing. Coming into the kitchen the low hum and thump of the washing machine told me that she was doing laundry. For those following along, you remember that my girl has always been an early riser. She loves exercise and has been a fitness fanatic most of her adult life. Coming down the hall to our bedroom, her voice became more distinct and I could tell that she was in the closet. I grinned...instead of announcing myself, I'd thought...<br />
<em>I'm gonna SCARE her! </em><br />
Some of you will see where this if going...I'd been her martial arts instructor for nearly two years and she'd held a black belt before starting her training with me. A typical male brain fart...sneaking into our room, I spied her bent over in the closet pulling clothes from a basket to hang them. Tip toeing closer I quickly closed the gap and grabbing her on each side of her waist, I'd cried YAH!!!<br />
Her reaction was immediate....and painful. Straightening, she'd executed a perfect spinning back fist to the left side of my head, followed by a back kick to the abdomen that knocked me completely out of the closet! Stunned I still noted her fierce expression as she turned to face me fully...and burst into laughter as she realized who it was standing there bewildered and swaying like an oak caught in a high wind. Between peals of glee, she'd rushed out to hug me exclaiming.<br />
"It really WORKS!"<br />
Needless to say, I'd never surprised my honey in that way again...even knuckle draggers learn...eventually! Her laugh has always been infectious and plentiful. Even throughout the past five years of cancer, she's managed to hang on to that...until recently.<br />
These past few months have been horrific for her. Physically and mentally as this damn disease strips from her the abilities to do even daily task. Now with hospice care, we try not to worry about the little stuff. I'll get to the laundry and the housework...but my focus is on her. I want to hear that laughter and see that smile....more than anything. It happens occasionally. She hums sometimes and rarely, she'll sing at a whisper. I relish both.<br />
Though diminished, my girls spirit still shines. She clings to hope and knows that for us all in the end, the love we share for each other and family is the one of the things that no disease can alter. Hoping to head to the water park today...time will tell but it won't be because she won't try!<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-24277539990647073662017-06-13T09:27:00.001-07:002017-06-13T09:27:36.661-07:00A Weekend Report...A honey-ism and a weekend report...<br />
<br />
We had a terrific four day weekend with my family is SD. While hectic, she had an absolute blast and loved spending time with everyone. We had some challenges. She was sick a few mornings but it passed quickly and my honey amazed me with her stamina and tenacity once again. Though unable to assist a lot with the plantings and yard work going on, she spent most of the weekend outdoors and walked more than I thought possible! While I was gone visiting my father, she tripped getting out of a chair on her flip flops and suffered a fall, (her feet and ankles are to swollen for any regular shoes) scrapping her head and much to her dismay, she needed help getting back up. Luckily, it was in the grass and she was quickly surrounded by family members that lovingly helped her and not only tended to her scrap but quickly figured out that oversized water shoes would be a better solution for her feet.<br />
<br />
Within a few hours they had her new foot gear and met us at a local landmark. A beautiful water falls park that we so enjoyed. When I noticed the grass stain on her hat and asked if she'd fallen, I got the eye roll and the "I'm fine." standard answer...she'd added that her family had taken care of it, so I should quite 'mothering' her. :o) For my girl...this is HUGE. Here's a link to the park we visited. <br />
<br />
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4cTYphSu5I<br />
<br />
If I could change just one aspect of my life, (aside from my honey's cancer) it would be to have gotten closer and more involved with my family sooner. We all have reason's...job's, geography or distance....but in hindsight, (which of course is EASY!) if you have a loving and supportive network of people in your life, whether by blood or not, MAKE THE EFFORT to be a part of it!<br />
<br />
Yes, it's messy at times and can most certainly be maddening with scheduling and your own commitments but I believe and KNOW that in good times and bad, those memories are precious...and truly in the end; are all we and our loved ones have that cannot be taken away. It saddens me greatly that I deprived my own children of this...yes it would have meant leaving their friends behind BUT if I'd done it early....could'a, should'a, would'a!<br />
<br />
Even though she hates it, we're getting a wheeled walker for my sweet girl this week...today in fact. The risk of falling is simply to great. We are going to the local waterpark this Thursday and plan to spend the afternoon floating on inner tubes and soaking in the wave pool. She worries about how much effort this involves...for me! Silly ol girl!! I'm just thrilled that we're GOING!! I told her that if she can stand to be with ME in a swimsuit publicly, everything else is easy! LOL!<br />
<br />
Thanks to the efforts of my sister in law (We LOVE you Lisa!) and the kindness and generosity of so many people on the gofundme page she started, I'm able to take some extra time off from work and make more of these memories with and for my girl and our family. Thank you doesn't begin to express our sincere gratitude and appreciation to all of you.<br />
<br />
We are back to draining her lungs daily and she does need her oxygen now more often than not. Today, she's been resting more but is still eating very well and other than some anxiety and fatigue is doing well. Her hair is slowly coming back...think G.I. Jane buzz cut! :o) Her smile and laugh are just as infectious as always...she has begun to pray aloud again...something she had stopping doing for some time. She gives thanks for her family...her friends and for all of the wonderful people who have shown her such great love and support. She gives thanks for what she is able to do...and simply ask for the best days she can have for as long as she can have them. She continues to amaze and inspire me...as do you all.<br />
<br />
I'll get some pics of the water park adventure up ASAP. Honey sends her love as always...<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-63130683184445259662017-06-06T07:10:00.001-07:002017-06-06T07:10:11.984-07:00A quick honey update....We've had to start draining her lungs again daily, which is dispiriting for her as we were going as long as six days. She's tired and I know this latest development makes her anxious. SO...I'm taking her to the lake today for a picnic lunch and to soak her toes!<br />
<br />
This afternoon, we'll take in the new Wonder Woman movies and then I'm grilling her steaks with all the trimmings and some ice cold Corona! :o) Thanks to all of you terrific folks for the kind comments on my page and for supporting my girl! We are truly blessed by each of you and your thoughtfulness!<br />
<br />
I hope everyone has a wonderful day!<br />
<br />
Jim & Tj (A.K.A. honey!)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737737977573372978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6789492391709042078.post-72944260013029663442017-06-01T08:49:00.002-07:002017-06-01T08:49:45.944-07:00A Ride In The Rain....<div class="_1dwg _1w_m" style="color: #1d2129; font-family: 'San Francisco', -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, '.SFNSText-Regular', sans-serif; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; padding: 12px 12px 0px;">
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A honey-ism. </div>
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A Ride In The Rain...</div>
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As honey and I began our relationship those many years ago, we began like many couples do that are either in or coming out of a failed marriage. Hesitantly...with baggage, preconceptions and expectations that were no doubt skewed by the desires of the heart. Add children into that mix and you have the potential for disaster...at the very LEAST, there's going to be some fairly severe adjustments for everyone involved. It's messy under the best circumstances. Period. </div>
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Our first romantic moment was actually anti-climatic. It'd been storming for several days and as usual, I was spending a Sunday morning at the dojo trying to catch up on the paperwork and cleaning the facility. The school was closed and I clearly recall my mood as being bleak. I was going though a difficult divorce and felt like I'd failed...yes, it takes two to do that but it didn't change the way I felt. It was nearing noon and back then I was a smoker. As I was preparing to leave, finished for the day; I remember'd that I'd finished my last cigarette on my way in earlier...it deepened my annoyance. </div>
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Scowling, I gathered my key's and heard a knock on the locked main glass door. I remember stopping and staying inside my office, hoping whoever it was would realize that the closed sign meant just that...I wasn't in the right frame of mind for a prospective client. A few seconds passed and just as I'd begun to hope my ploy had succeeded came another serious of knocks...more of an insistent banging. Grumbling obscenities under my breath, I headed to the door and reaching it; saw my honey huddled close to the building to try and avoid the steady drizzle.</div>
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Unlocking the door, I ushered her in greeting her but adding that I was just about to leave. Tj had nodded, clearly nervous (unusual for her) and smiling had blurted. “I was just sort'a driving around and saw your car here...I thought maybe...that...uhm...you'd like to get some lunch?” She'd smiled again as she finished but I could tell she was clearly not in her comfort zone. As I mulled it over, thinking more about getting that smoke ( I never smoked at the school or in front of students) than anything else, she quickly added. “You don't HAVE too! It's not a big deal or anything...” </div>
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Chuckling because I'd never seen her uncertain about anything before, I'd started to answer but she misinterpreted my reaction as a rejection and started to hurriedly excuse herself. I placed a hand on her shoulder as she started to turn away, saying. “Whoa! Lunch would be great!” Meeting her gaze, I'd grinned, adding that I did need to make a quick stop first for my nicotine habit.<br />She'd just bought her very first new vehicle a few months before. A white Isuzu Rodeo...(which years later would become our oldest son's first car.) she was very proud of it and honey was not a smoker. I'd assumed we'd just take both vehicles so she surprised me by stating. “Tell you what...why don't we just take my car and I'll bring you back. We can get your smokes but I'd rather you not light up in it. Is that ok?”</div>
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As we stood looking at one another, I still recall something in my mind sensing that she wanted...or rather needed to tell me something that was important to her. Shrugging, I'd accepted adding that I could smoke after we ate. Back then, smoking in restaurants was acceptable. I no longer remember exactly where we ate but I do know it was typical to what we have done most of our relationship. Honey had a healthier, sensible meal...fish and a salad and I had red meat and potatoes in some fashion or another! LOL! Our conversation was light...work, the school, kids and some good natured ribbing about my eating habits and smoking. The rain had picked up and we both talked about how we enjoyed driving in it. The smell...the rhythmic thump of the wipers and especially the sound it on the metal roof. </div>
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Hurrying back to her SUV, we both got in damp and a little chilled. Grinning broadly, she's asked if I wanted to go for a ride and I'd quickly agreed. Being a sheriffs deputy, honey knew all the backroads and this is were we drove. In the winding roads of the Tennessee countryside, traffic was light and after a while, we came to an abandoned gas station out in the middle of nowhere. The rain was coming down in a torrent...pounding the vehicle and blotting out visibility. Pulling in, she'd parked and we both just sat listening to the drumming deluge. Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky as thunder rumbled and boomed in it's passage. </div>
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Haltingly...she'd broached the subject of her past. Telling me a little about her upbringing and some of the tragedies she'd endured. Her feelings of inadequacy...guilt...rage...all of these things came tumbling out. She'd cried..gripping the steering wheel in a iron grip...great soul wrenching sobs that had her shuddering. As I leaned across the seat, I gently pried her hands from the steering wheel and held her...it was all I could do. She was mumbling apologies...embarrassed at her loss of control. I'd heard only bit's and pieces but enough to know that she was in agony...seared by a torment that she usually kept hidden from the world. </div>
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Almost in sync with the storm, as the rain slackened, her sobbing subsided. I could smell her damp hair and the light perfume that she wore. Pulling away from me she'd sniffed, rummaging for a tissue in the doors panel. What little mascara she wore was in ruins...blowing her nose and clearing her throat, she'd again turned toward me and mumbled apologies...a final flash of lightning close by illuminate us both in it's brilliance, the crashing boom loud enough to startle each of us. In that moment, I saw her as I suspect she'd rarely let anyone see her...vulnerable, with a sorrow that was achingly deep. </div>
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Reaching across to wipe away a tear with my thumb, I'd kissed her. Softly...tenderly. It was a brief kiss but as I leaned back I saw her eyes open with surprise and even a little shock. My mind instantly roared into self recriminations...what had I done! I'd certainly breached my role as an instructor and mentor! Shit!! Idiot...now you've done it! </div>
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As all of that raced through me, I started to pull away...sputtering what I'm sure was inarticulate nonsense...when she reached out and pulled me back, returning my kiss with one of her own. It was passionate and full of need, lasting sweet long minutes before we parted; each breathless and full of desire. There'd been no groping...but it's intensity had been unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I was lost in her eyes and wanted more but instead she hugged me fiercely, whispering into my ear that she was sorry before abruptly letting me go and putting the vehicle into gear, heading back towards town. </div>
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It was still drizzling...and I couldn't help but watch her as she focused on the road. I'd asked if she was ok and she'd simply nodded. I'd apologized and she vigorously shook her head, mumbling that it was her fault...she'd been stupid. Although I asked several more questions and tried reassuring her that she wasn't guilty of anything, I got no further response. In time we arrived back to my own vehicle and I remember the swirl of confused emotions that I know we both were feeling...we had ignited a spark but neither of us had any idea what to do with it. </div>
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As I opened my door to get out, she took my hand and squeezed. Locking eyes with me, her's had misted and she said simply. “Thank you.” I squeezed back, replying in kind before getting out and watching her drive away. I really doubted I'd ever see her again...but even then I'd known. </div>
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She'd taken my heart with her that day in the rain.</div>
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