GoodBye July

It's late and I need to goto bed. I'm going back to work tomorrow. I've been mostly pain free today. The doctor took a look at me today and said I didn't need surgery but that it was still large enough that he could lance it again and get more of the blood clots out. I thought about it for oh, say a micro second, and said "No!" I'll let it run it's course.

Looking back at the month of July I'm left with this feeling of "How did I make it through this?" Ok, I know that's not a feeling but I mean, gezz, that was a lot of heavy shit. I was driving home tonight and was thinking, I want August to be normal. No pain, no drama, no depression, no doing anything major. I just want to get through one month where all I do is go to work, come home, cook a meal, go out and see friends, and come home. Wash and repeat.

So with that I hope that you all get board with me during the month of August because I want to make it as normal and boring as possible.

Wish me luck.

GoodBye July.

Pain Part 3.1

I had a few hours last night from about 6 - 10pm completely pain free. This morning however I'm not so lucky. I have a consult with the surgeon at 3pm today. I hope I don't have to do it. Everything I read or hear from others says the surgery and the recovery after is very very painful. I'm not alone though. Doc. Wendy said she would be there with me during the surgery. I have a few others who have stepped up and been able to help out with getting me food and stuff.

So now I sit and wait till 3pm...

Update: 3:45pm - No sugery. Thank you god.

Pain Part 3

Final Diagnosis: Thrombosed Hemorrhoid

That's what is says on the paper anyway. Before I start, some of you may wonder why I'm putting such intimate details about my health on here. Trust me, towards the end I will share how this fits into my Journey.

Saturday afternoon I notice some pain from hemorrhoids. No big deal I get them and can let it run it course. However by Saturday night I knew something was very different. I was in San Diego to see friends. By 11pm I knew something was very wrong. The pain was very very bad. I was with a friend and they had to drive me home. Sunday I tried all the treatments I could find on the Internet. Nothing was working. As I was trying to find a treatment, I found a site that talked about a serious condition that is very painful and needs to be looked at right away. The size of mine was very disturbing to me and with the pain I was in, decided to go to the ER.

I never, never wanted to step foot in that "ER" again. That should give you some kind of idea the level of pain I was in. To willingly walk back into the ER where I waited to be told my wife died 4 months ago, is an example of the level of pain. I had to wait 2 hours before I was finally seen.

I was examined and was told it was not the serious kind but that they needed to lance it and get out all the blood clots. For the next 30 min, I was in hell. There was apparently a lot of blood clots. It took some time to dig them all out. How this relates to my Journey is this, while I was experiencing one of the worst physical painful moments of my life, I never felt so alone. If Carol was here, she would have been with me and held my hand and helped me through it. But she wasn't and I had to go through it alone.

A friend showed up at the ER when the procedure was finished and I was able to go home. He went to the pharmacy and got the two medications I needed. I was grateful someone was there to help. I had earlier sent out some text messages that I was in pain.

Update: I had to stay home today for a follow up from yesterday. The doctor took one look and said I need to see a surgeon. Looks like I get to see the surgeon tomorrow at 3pm. Lucky me.

Carol's Death

The Day Before:

It was March 14, a Wednesday. I had a commitment on Wed night and didn't get home till 9:30pm. As usual, I go straight to bed because I have to get up early. Carol would always tuck me in. She knew I needed to sleep but wanted to talk to me so bad. She would start to ask a question or two then it would be like 15 min later. She would smile and never felt bad she was keeping me up. As always, she would kiss me, say she loved me and turn out the light.

I suffer from not being able to sleep. I would toss and turn and would end up going out to the couch. Sometimes Carol would cough so much that I would have to do that also. So it was not uncommon for me to sleep on the couch. It was a way to break my mind off of whatever it was fixed on that was keeping me from sleeping. I laid on the couch and Carol was sitting in the chair reading. But she wasn't actually reading. I looked at her and she had this terrified look on her face. She was crying.

Through whispered tiers she said, "I'm afraid something bad is going to happen."

Till the day I die I will never be able to erase that memory. Those were her last words to me. We never spoke again. I just laid there and tried some comforting words but knew there was nothing I could do. I had been here before with her time and time again. I all I could do was be loving and warm. Sometimes comfort does not require words just a look of compassion. Shortly after, sleep was still not working so I went back to bed.

March 15, 2007

I woke up and got ready for work. As usual we had a thing we always did in the morning. Just as she would tuck me in at night, I would always kiss her in the morning, say I love you and have a great day. She would always wake up, open her eyes and say I love you too and have a great day. Every morning. Except for this day. You may not believe this, you may think I'm embellishing details after the fact. But this is true. Sometimes I would get a feeling that I should stay home. I had done so before in the past. Carol would always get mad and worry about my job but later would be grateful I did. She would either be physically feeling bad or mentally, or both. Staying home always helped her through the day. That morning, getting ready for work, I almost stayed home. But I had just started a new job and didn't want to start getting in trouble again. When I kissed her goodbye and said I loved her, she did not open her eyes or say anything back. I will have to live with that the rest of my life.

11:50am
I was helping someone with a new software installation. I had just figured out what was going wrong and went back to my desk. My new boss said that my old boss, Betty, was trying to reach me. She was on speaker phone in his office. I went in.

"Kelly the Upland PD is trying to reach you. Carol has been transported to the hospital." she said.

Now let me pause here a moment. When you live with someone who can die any moment you think about them dying everyday. But it's just a thought and you go on. When the actual call comes your mind wants to go there but it can't.

I left and got in my car and drove to the hospital. I remember my mind being raged by my thoughts. "Its ok", I told myself "she has had this happen before. She'll make it to the hospital, go on a vent and in a few days come off like last time. It's not a bid deal, we've been here before and made it out ok." However, I did not know any details about why she was transported. What if it was something minor. Carol would be very upset if nothing was serious and here I was thinking she is dying or worse. I can see the look on her face. "You'd give up on me that easy?" she would say. No hun, I wouldn't. I kept telling myself over and over, don't give up hope, don't give up hope.

I arrived at the ER. I was, obviously, in a panic. I asked for Carol. The nurse looked on the computer screen and did not see her name. It was 12:15. That was not a good sign. She said she would go look in the back. A few minutes went by and she started to walk back. Now, my powers of observation are on max level. I'm tuned to see anything that can give me any indication of what is going on. When she came back I saw her make eye contact with me and quickly look away. She avoided eye contact until she walked back up to the window. She said Carol was still in the ambulance and they are trying to find a room. I knew she was lying.

I waited. Waited. Waited.

In July when this happened they took me back to her room as soon as I got there. They wanted to know what medications she was on, etc, etc. No one was coming out to ask any questions. "Don't give up hope! Don't give up hope!" is what I kept saying over and over to myself. Finally I saw a doctor come out and motion for me. As I walk up he pointed away from the ER. "We have a private room over here." is what he said.

"Don't give up hope! Don't give up hope!"

He put me in a room by myself and told me someone would be coming to see me soon. It had been 20 min since I arrived. I waited alone.

"Don't give up hope! Don't give up hope!"

Finally the original doctor and a new one walked in. They asked what condition Carol had that would make her bleed. I told him she had Cystic Fibrosis.

"Don't give up hope! Don't give up hope!"

"I'm sorry to tell you your wife died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital." The doctor said.

The pain. The reality. The pain.

I was left alone for awhile and finally taken to another room. I sent a text message out to my friends that Carol had died. They put me in a room with a social worker. Within one minute I was very close to yelling at her to shut the F up. I can't remember now what it was she kept saying but it was clearly inappropriate. Then the door open. Brandi walked in and I was finally not alone anymore. Some time later Carol's sister came and then Cousin Merle and Dona. We had to wait a long time for them to clean the blood. After an hour I was finally able to see her. I sat with her for a few minutes. I kissed her and told her I loved her.

When I got home Brandi and Chris where just finishing cleaning up all the blood. With in an hour 20 people were at my house. Most stayed until 2am. At about 6pm I got a call from the organ donor program. I was surprised because as ravaged as Carol's body was I didn't think there was any opportunity for donor. I spent an agonizing hour on the phone with them going over every detail of Carol's medical history. At a few points, I just wanted to scream and hang up. But I hung in there and finally got to the end. Six weeks later I got a letter saying that two women in Florida had their eye sight returned from Carol's donation. I cried.

So that's it. I can't write much more about that day.

580 Visits from 54 Cities

Los Angeles 177
Seattle 87
Irvine 70
Riverside 24
Portland 19
Midland 13
Saginaw 13
New York 11
Chicago 9

Just thought I’d share some of the data I look at each day. Not sure why, but it helps me to think about who these people are, what is going on in there lives. What has happened to them in their lives that make them want to be a part of my tragic life? I don’t know who you are and don’t want to ask you to come out of lurk mode. I just wanted you to know that I see you come visit each day and hope that you find some kind of comfort here.

I have updated my profile to include my email address. Anyone is welcome to send me an email which I will be more than happy to reply to.

Hope Part 1

Odd title. But really, with grief, one day offers a slight ray of hope, others the dark clouds of doom to be followed with another day of hope. On again, off again. Up and down. Keep your eye on the ball as Kelly tries to make it through this. Is he up or is he down? Happy or sad?

I couldn’t get up to work out on Monday. That was a bad thing. I think exercise is to depression what oxygen is to living. You simply need it. To go with out it very long is a one way ticket to doom. This morning I didn’t want to get up and go to the gym. But I made myself do it. I got there and was weak and tired. I haven’t been eating well or not at all. But once I started stretching and getting warmed up I was a little ready for my work out with Jack. At first it was hard but half-way through my strength started to come back and I felt stronger and had more energy. At the end I felt better.

On my way to work something happened. I felt a little hope. Not a lot but just a little. I have a close friend that says I need to stay focused and work on me. What does that mean exactly? If its work then that means I can do a lot, more often right? That’s what I’m used to doing at work, over achieving. But I don’t think you can over achieve at recovering from grief. I feel so frustrated that I am forced to wait the process out. What I think it means is I have to work on doing the things each day that I need to do. See, I’m alone now and have to learn to adjust to my life this way. Learn to pay the bills, manage my income and budget, take care of the house, eat healthy, go to work and stay focused on my job, take care of my spiritual health and be there to help my friends. It’s easy to get detracted and run from my loss. The work part is staying focused on the present.

Trust

With mind, body and spirit devastated by grief, how does one trust oneself? My spirit is wrecked with grief, my body is in pain, and my mind believes everything I see. I am constantly frustrated at my lack understanding of what is going on with me. If I can’t trust myself, how do I trust others? The only thing I seem to be able to do right is continue each day by getting up and doing what I’m expected to do that day.

Last Week

Starting last Sunday this has been a very hard week. With depression on Sunday into Monday, packing up all of Carol’s things, the anniversary of Carol’s near death experience, and a few other things I can’t blog about, I’m surprised I survived it at all. I’m at work right now. I’m feeling like I’m in shock or a numbing shock. The pain is still here but not as intense as yesterday. I’m trying to get used to it. I have this thought that it might be like this for awhile. People live with chronic pain all the time, why should this be any different?

I keep trying to think my way out of this. If only I look at it like “this” or like “that” I’ll change the way I feel. Its work before but this last week it has felt like a band aid on a sucking chest wound. I don’t know. I wish I had enough money to take a few months off and heal some more. But I don’t and work would be pissed if I did and I might loss my job. So I have to gut it out.

Pain Part 2.3

It's almost 9:30pm. The pain has reduced to a low level ache. My arms hurt, stomach hurts, legs hurt. But I think I'm through the worst of it. I haven't had a drink in over 23 years. For the first time since Carol died, I thought about drinking. I don't because I saw what it did to my family and decided 23 years ago that I would not end up like they did. I am tired now. I don't know if I can sleep but I'm going to try. I have to work tomorrow and don't know what good I'll be but I'll try.

I am a good person. I did the right thing with Carol each and every day. I loved her every day knowing each day during the last year that she could die at any moment. I never held back, I never ran away. I am a good person.

Pain Part 2.2

I'm sorry for my out burst. I don't want to offend anyone. It's 7:30pm and the pain is still here. I laid in bed and cried for a long time. I said over and over again "It hurts, it hurts." But nothing takes it away. I tried to call people to meet with them but it didn't work out. One of my very best friend is going through their own issue and don't have time for me. I understand. I can't expect people to put their lives on hold every time I feel a tear coming on. I'm reading through Carol's journals. I don't know if it is making it better or worse.

Pain Part 2.1

The fucking Pain! The fucking Pain! It hurts so fucking much! It started last night and again today. All day the fucking Pain! My guts are in a knott and won't stop fucking hurting! Please god stop! Please god stop the Pain!

Pain Part 2

At about 9:45 the pain came. This time I was alone. No one to call, or reach out to. The pain stayed with me until sleep came at 2:30am. At 6am, when I woke up, the pain returned. It is still here. I can think of nothing worse right now than being in pain alone.

One Year Ago

One year ago today

Room Transition

I’m back at work today. It’s getting harder not easier to be here. I wish I had a lot of money and could take a year off work. People here depend on me to be on my game. Unfortunately I am a lead which requires more than just showing up and building software. I plan, communicate, collaborate, etc, etc. I lead new ideas and champion change. When I’m not gutted with grief I seem to do ok with that. But I just don’t have the heart for it today. Some days I just want to be left alone. I guess it’s like my father taught me when I was 6 or 7 years old. “Son,” He said, “want in one hand and shit in the other and tell me which one is heaver.” Funny how some things stick with you.

I didn’t get much done compared to what I wanted done but I got done what I needed done. Make since? I have all of Carol’s clothes out. The dresser and other items are out in the garage. I still need to move the old bed either to the new location in the room or get the guest bed out and move it to the guest bedroom. Still need to go buy new bedroom stuff. And I still need to paint. Brandi said I should paint and decorate around a piece of art. So I went online and bought the Snowstorm by Turner.

I was going to try and make up hours again like I did last week but have decided to just eat the vacation hours and take it easy. Next week I’m going to try and work a normal week and keep doing that from week to week. I have no more travel or other obligations the require days off anymore so I should be able to keep things right. A 53 hour week is hard for me right now.

So, take care everyone. I’m going to take a few days off from blogging, so if you don’t see anything for the next few days, please come back next week.

Things We Keep

"A car sits along the side of a two way highway. Desert surrounds everything. This particular road stretches for days in both directions. One heads west, the other east. Mountains loom on the horizon to the west, the direction the motionless car is pointing. To the east is the dawn light. 1966 Dodge Comet, four door. Dark green exterior color which has become faded over time. The tires are bald. There is no driver, only a passenger sits alone. Inside the only sound is the hazard lights blinking in a rhythm. Yellow light illuminate the inside with each blink. The passenger knows this is the end of the ride. Looking at the highway stretched out ahead, he tries to summon the courage to get out and start walking. "

Yesterday was difficult to say the lest. Brandi came over on time but we both were hunger so went to Nancy's to eat. Afterwards we came back and started into things. Man did Carol have a lot of stuff! We filled 13 garbage bags (I'm getting better) with clothes. Some things I kept, most I did not. Of course we found all her journals. We opened one from her Sophomore year in high School. It starts with "I think I have a hangover but I'm not sure." We both laughed out load over that. I looked at the volumes of writing she has done. I might start a blog just to put all of it out there for everyone to read. Is that wrong?

I mean, we are going through things. Some items meant a great deal to her but to us, they look like an ordinary objects. Something that can easily go in the trash. It is strange the things we keep that are of significant value to use but are meaningless to others. The one thing that is priceless to the individual and the people left behind are our own written words. I would love to share Carols words with anyone who is willing to take the time to read them. Thoughts?

"Out Sick"

I went to work yesterday. I had dressed nice I must say. Logged on my computer and promptly sat there looking at it. I was looking at the monitor, not what was being displayed. I tried to take a walk to get my head into things. Sat down, nothing. Feelings started to overwhelm me. I looked at the clock, 7:30am. Oh no. A few more attempts and I gave up and sent out an email that I was "Out Sick" and going home. That's the truth, right?

In the car on the way home it started. The tiers. Not a lot, but I felt as though I was struggling to hold back something. I got home and had decided I was going to finally start doing something with the house. I got as far as getting undressed to my underwear when it hit. It hit me hard and unexpected. The only safe place I felt was a corner in the kitchen on the floor. I sat there, in my underwear and started to sob. Over and over, wave after wave. Everything I looked at resulted in a flood of memories. I could hear her voice.

After two hours and a box of tissue, I was laying on the floor with my legs up on a chair. My right forearm was resting across my forehead. The crying had stopped, for the moment. A short time later I put some shorts on and a friend came over. We talked, I cried some more. It seems it has come down to the house. I have been putting off getting Carol's stuff boxed up. Painting. Getting new bedroom furniture. I just didn't want to do it. I kept having this vision of putting her things in a garbage bag. A Garbage Bag! I see that and I get gutted. How can I do that to her? I can I put all our memories in a garbage bag and put it out on a curb. That's it? See you later? Time to move on! (Hold on everyone, please I'm just sharing here. Just expressing the raw emotions of my moment.)

I asked Brandi how do I start. How do I get through this? She recommended starting with the place I need to feel the most safe, where I sleep. She recommended the bedroom. So today, she is coming over to help me go through and pack up (like how I avoided the garbage bag reference?) and move out some of the things in the bed room. I am going to move the bed to another part of the room. I want to move my stuff from my closet to hers. Then I want to go and pick out a color for the room and paint. Finally, I found a bed room set that I like. I'm going to buy it.

So I think I'm going to be "Out Sick" (wink) for a few days.

A Visitor Last Night

I had a visitor come see me last night. Came over uninvited but came in just the same. Promptly turned off all the lights then sat with me in the dark at the kitchen table. Sat with me until I started to cry. Waited with me until through a whisper I started to say, “Why Carol? Why did you leave me? I can’t do this. Don’t you see I’m messed up? I can’t do this alone.” Later followed me to the living room where I sat in the dark. Although I called a friend and talked, it knew the call would end and our visit would resume. When I went to sleep it stayed with me. I would wake on occasion and see it still there.

The Visitor’s name is Depression

Widower

I seem to be feeling better today. Better than I have in a few weeks. The task at hand is much clearer to me today. For now, my task is to welcome each day as a widower in grief. Not in the way of morbid depression, but in a way to honor my wife and my marriage. I am not single, far from it. While I was married it was easy to resist temptation, I was in love with my wife and I enjoyed the benefits of each and every day. My mind and body are in a tail-spin since Carol’s death. Nothing is there to protect me from myself. So I have come to the conclusion that if I think of myself as still married I can get through the weak moments. I certainly have plenty of experience to draw upon to help me. However, I’m not fouling myself either.

For me, today, I think of myself as a widower in grief. I wan to give myself a year to honor my process to heal and focus on the things that are important today.

Can I keep this commitment? Am I setting myself up for failure? Is this unreasonable?

Silence

Hi everyone. A lot has been going on in my life as of late. But unfortunately it involves other people. I’m faced with a dilemma of how to journal my real-life experiences but respect the privacy of others.

My home if filled with silence. The only human voice is my own and I hear it only when I talk to the cats or am on the phone. The silence is difficult to handle. I try to turn on as much white noise on as I can. The fan, air purifier, radio, AC, TV, etc, etc. But I can still hear it, the silence. I know I have said this before and I guess I’ll continue to say it until I’m done saying it: I don’t want to be alone. I’m not talking the “get a roommate” alone. I’m talking about living with my best friend. Coming home each day and talking about what happened. Sitting next to each other and watching TV. Sitting on the floor and eating dinner off the coffee table while we watch TV.

Before I met Carol, I never had this in my whole life. I was always alone. I was abandoned as a child and lived from one place to another. Sometimes with people I know sometime with complete strangers. As I got older I preferred to be alone. My relationships before Carol were disasters. I had given up on ever finding anyone and reserved to a life of being alone.

Here I am once again, alone and living in silence. It is like an old friend that has come back into my life but find it awkward. We used to have so much in common but now found it difficult to carry a conversation longer than 5 minutes. The rest of the visit is spent waiting for it to end.

Waiting for it to end.

That is how I spend my time now, waiting for the loneliness to end. There is only one small detail that keeps getting in the way, grief. One of the chief allies of grief is Denial. It is a four star general with a multitude of resources dedicated to planning and executing strategies to accomplish the mission set out. Damn the consequences to anyone near the action. That’s called collateral damage. It happens, or Shit happens. The difference between lying and denial is the difference between lying to others and lying to yourself. You know when your lying to others but have know idea when your lying to yourself.

The only remedy is honesty. Regrettably with denial the honesty comes only after the fact. My life is being devastated my denial. My consequences may be the loss of friendships. Not just the “hey lets watch a movie or have coffee” friendships but the “this is how I feel” friendships. I must try and continue to make a commitment to see this through no matter how painful it is. I keep trying to tell myself that I want to be alone again. If I believe I want to be alone then I can begin to accept it and somehow be happy again. A part of me thinks this is nothing more than trying to play mind games with myself. The fact is that now that I’ve had a significant amount of time being with a great person, I’ll never be happy being alone again. I just need to learn to tolerate it.

Collection Consultant Association

Allow me to introduce to you the lowest form of humanity. They are called the Collection Consultant Association. What they do is take billing discrepancies and send letters to people. Because the have "Collection" in the name people respond out of fear. At first they seem to be helpful and request insurance information. But they have no interest in billing the insurance or they will bill the insurance but not tell you they have and continue to demand full payment. I did some research on them with the BBB. The BBB has given them a rating of "F". This is the worst rating a business can get.

Lucky for me "The Fair Debt Collection Practices Act protects consumers from unfair collection tactics. If you have received a call or a billing for a debt which is unfamiliar to you, check your records carefully before paying the amount. Ask the company to provide proof of the debt. If they fail to do so, you are not required to pay the debt. "

So far they have only provided obscure dates but not specific details of treatment not paid for. I have sent them a letter stating I have filed a complaint with the BBB. Also that I am going to deal with CHOC directly on this issue and that if I receive any more letters or phone calls I'm going to consult the local District Attorney.

And Finally…

…a good dream. But before I share about the good dream I want to share the bad one.

Carol would scream my name. As soon as I heard it I knew what was wrong. I would jump up, run to the oxygen, turn it up to max output and run to the bathroom. She would be standing there coughing up blood. I would put the air on her and tighten up behind her head to keep it in place. Then we would wait for it to get worse or stop. Wait… wait… wait…

I have been waking up at night after hearing her scream my name. I would wake up eyes wide open, my heart racing, and start to jump out of bed before the effects of waking up would kick in. Just before I would get out of bed I would realize it was a dream. I would lie down again and wait to relax. Wait… wait… wait…

Last night I had a different dream. We sat in the kitchen for hours and talked. The sad part is I can’t remember details of what we talked about. I can only guess and my guess will be from a strictly self-centered point of view. But I have a strong feeling that we talked about how I am doing. I believe she was telling me she is happy with how I’ve been doing and approves of the people I have decided to hang out with. I remember I was saying something and for some reason walked out of the kitchen into the entry way. When I didn’t hear her response I turned to look back in the kitchen. She was gone. I looked around and started calling her name but then remembered she is gone. I woke up feeling happy. Finally, a good dream.

Should it Stay or Should it Go?

I returned to Palm Springs at 2ish on Saturday. A few hours after my post "Pain". Later that night after talking with friends I came around to feeling better. Afterwords I thought about my post. Should it stay or should it go?

I am re-learning lessons. Lessons that I thought I had graduated from. Thought I'd never have to take that class again. I passed the test once before, why take it again? But when someone is dealing with Perception the lesson is never done, the test always prone to fail, and graduation is never going to happen.

I count on my Perception of things around me. I look, think, and based on previous experience, make judgements. But Perception is like playing craps. Sooner or later the shooter hits the seven before the point and everyone who is perceiving the shooter will win, will loose. That's what happened to me. I bet that what I saw and what I thought, based on my previous experience, was absolute truth. The Seven came up and I was absolutely wrong. The one thing I'm leaving out is my actions based upon my judgements. This is where people get hurt.

So what do I do about my actions of my Post based upon my judgement? The people who know, know. People who think they know and don't will pass judgement on me and others. And then there are the visitors to my blog that don't have any idea of what I'm talking about. I have made my direct amends. Do I delete the Post as a part of my amends or do I leave it as a record of my journey?

For now, I'm going to leave it. In some way I see this as a part of my journey. I think that people with similar experiences will identify with my feelings without knowing any details. They will know they are not alone in this process. It might give them hope and the courage to live in spite of making the occasional mistake.

So for today, it Stays.

Pain

Let me go on record as saying that 'Pain' is not good. In fact is sucks. I don't like it much and would like to avoid it as much possible. However sometime it just sort of happens. It happened to me last night or early this morning. No reason or explanation of how or why, it just happened. The kind of pain the sends needles throughout every nerve ending. The kind that makes the stomach want to empty it's contents and because there is none, sends a continuous message of 'don't put anything in here'. The kind of pain that feels like someone is constantly punching you in the gut.

I came home at 4am from Palm Springs. Woke up at 9am and went to see friends at 10am. The pain is still here.

I hate this...

Headstone Part 1

Hey everyone. Just wanted to let everyone know I went down today and ordered the Headstone for Carol. Sounds terrible that it took this long. But I did it today. I will get the template in the mail in 10 days and then return it. The whole process should take about 6 - 8 weeks.

Cousin Merle

Cousin Merle is a cousin to Carol. Carol loved Merle very much and made sure she could spend as much time with her as she could. Merle was a constant pillar of strength and support for Carol. Merle never looked the other way when things got hard. She always stood strong through the hard times and laughed during the good ones.



Since Carol's death Cousin Merle has continued to show me the same dedication and support she gave Carol. Merle has been the one true source of encouragement and strength though my difficult times. I love you Merle, I don't think I would have been able to make it through this without your love and support.



Cousin Merle gave me a Poem and I would like to post it. I'll quote the author and hope I don't get turned into the DCMA police this time:



Miss you, miss you, miss you;
Everything I do
Echoes with the laughter
And the voice of You.

You're on every corner
Every turn and twist,
Every old familiar spot
Whispers how you're missed.

Miss you, miss you, miss you!
Everywhere I go
There are poignant memories
Dancing in a row.
Silhouette and shadow
Of your form and face
Substance and reality
Everywhere displace.

Oh, I miss you, miss you!
God! I miss you, Girl!
There's a strange silence'
Mid the busy whirl
Just as tho' the ordinary
Daily things I do
Wait with me, expectant
For a word from You.

Miss you, miss you, miss you!
Nothing now seem true
Only that 'twas heaven
Just to be with You.


--by David Cory

Memories and Stuff

I really wanted to say “Memories and Shit” but thought that might be too offensive for some people.

The fourth of July. Yep, it was yesterday, all day… I was invited to two parties but didn’t go to either. I had a friend call that is in crisis and needed to hang out with someone for awhile. Afterwards I came home and watched TV. I heard the fireworks. Carol loved fireworks. Our house has a great view of the Upland Fireworks. Every year we would go out and watch. People who lived around us would come over and chat as we watched. This year I went outside and stood. No one came out. I stood alone for awhile and went back inside.

Stuff. What to do with the stuff? Carol’s coats are still in the closet. The vacuum is in the closet so every time I vacuum the house I open the closet and see her coats. Every coat has a memory. Not just an “Oh that’s Carol’s Coat” memory but I see her in it and hear her voice. One in particular is her favorite. It’s gray with a hood and very cozy. Carol loved that coat. She would look forward to it getting cold just so she could wear it. I bought her that coat for our first Xmas together. How can I give that away to Goodwill or some organization? Each one is like that.

Coin collection. Carol had started the Quarter collection when they started making them with each State on the back. She would love it when I would come home with a ton of change and look for the ones she didn’t have. Do I finish it?

Every Stuff has a memory. How does one throw away Stuff with Memories?

Red Moon Over Seattle

On the flight returning from Seattle I saw the most amazing thing. The Moon was blood red as it came up over the horizon. I was struck by the beauty of it. I felt like it was a ‘Thank You’ from god. Thank you for being true to your feelings and having the courage to continue living.

“Throw me in the shallow water before I get to deep?”

So I went to Bremerton. I left Thursday. The flight was supposed to leave at 5:30 but didn’t leave until 7ish. So it was a long wait. When we got to the airport and got our luggage I looked at the car rental lines. Every rental line was open except for one. And that one had a long line. Yep, god is going to be having lots of fun with me this weekend. So I stood in line and waited. Brandi went outside to have a smoke and made best friends with Brian. Brian is from Portland and only gets a 10 min break every 10 hours. We got the car and off we went to Bremerton via the Narrow’s Bridge.

We arrived at Bremerton around 9:30 and got to see my ex just as they finished the game. Both she and her partner were wet from being out in the rain. So it turns out it was good that we where late or we would have been soaking wet from the rain. We all had dinner got through the “who are you?” kind of talk between the ones who did not know each other.

The rest of the trip was great. I got to see some old friends Friday night. Saturday we all went over to Seattle and paid respects to the Holy Land by buying a cup of coffee at the original Starbucks at Pike’s Market. Then walked to where my son works and had pizza. After we retuned to Bremerton we went to my ex’s house on Sat and watched The Breakfast Club. We drove her daughter crazy with saying the lines to the movie. On Sunday Brandi and I went back to Seattle on the ferry and went all through Pike’s. We ended the day by having lunch at Kell’s and Irish pub.

The flight back was spent between reflecting on the events over the weekend and what the future holds for me. I have been doing better. I have long moments of peace. The guilt of being at peace is getting less and less.

This weekend is the last leg of the month long weekend events. I’m going to Palm Springs to hang out with friends. I’ll post more before then.