The following, sent to me by my friend Alana, certainly had an impact on me today.  I have been very depressed mourning my Al and wondering what my purpose is in life now that he is gone.  I have always been independent so it is not that I can’t carry on, the question has been do I really want to without him.   For all my independence, Al was my rock, my foundation, and my deepest love.  Reading the following gave me pause and something to think about.  Of course, I want to strangle the girl and hug the boyfriend. THINK There was a blind girl who hated herself because she was blind. She hated everyone except her loving boyfriend. He was always there for her. She told her boyfriend, ‘If I could only see the world, I will marry you.’ One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her. When the bandages came off, she was able to see everything, including her boyfriend. He asked her, ‘Now that you can see the world, will you marry me?’ The girl looked at her boyfriend and saw that he was blind. The sight of his closed eyelids shocked her. She hadn’t expected that. The thought of looking at them the rest of her life led her to refuse to marry him. Her boyfriend left in tears and days later wrote a note to her saying: ‘Take good care of your eyes, my dear, for before they were yours, they were mine.’   This is how the human brain often works when our status changes. Only a very few remember what life was like before, and who was always by their side in the most painful situations. Life Is a Gift Today before you say an unkind word – Think of someone who can’t speak. Before you complain about the taste of your food – Think of someone who has nothing to eat.. Before you complain about your husband or wife – Think of someone who’s crying out to GOD for a companion. Today before you complain about life – Think of someone who went too early to heaven.. Before whining about the distance you drive -Think of someone who walks the same distance with their feet. When you are tired and complain about your job – Think of the unemployed, the disabled, and those who wish they had your job.. And when depressing thoughts seem to get you down – Put a smile on your face and think: you’re alive and still around..

 

You gotta see this!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUtPKbMwnRo

As you watch the frivolity in this youtube video, remember that all pets are not as lucky to enjoy the holiday season.

Please remember all the dogs, cats, and other animals suffering from starvation, cruelty, abandonment, and neglect in this season of giving.  As the economy worsens, the plight of animals also worsens.  Please do what you can do to help either by donating money to your local shelter, fostering a dog, volunteering at the shelter, and helping where you can. Not every dog, nor every child, will be safe, warm, fed, and loved this year.  As I look at my well cared for lot, I cannot help but pray for the unwanted and thrown away animals in our society as well as all of our homeless and displaced people trying so hard to survive. As foreclosures increase, so do the number of abandoned pets and much worse the number of homeless people.  Please give your time and money to our fellow man and those animals in dire need.

Before I launch into my BIG POST after not posting for several months, I want to share the following vignette. Since Al’s death I have wondered about my purpose, my future, my way of life.  I have no idea what God will call me to do, but I hope to do as much good in the world as our beloved dogs. Aren’t they grand?  Without them, I would not have made it through the past months.  Certainly they cannot take my Al’s place in any stretch of the imagination, but they are good company (when they are not decorating the floor with mud, sneaking behind the couch to leave a present for me when it is raining and they do not want to get their behinds wet, or trying to take food from my mouth or in the case of Snoop from the counter or the table or wherever else he can find a tidbit.  I have loved dogs from my earliest childhood with good reason: they are loyal, affectionate, playful, sometimes courageous and protective when necessary, and warm on a cold night.  I have a lover affair going with dogs, all dogs from purebreds to mixed breeds but especially Cavaliers.  More on my Cavaliers in my next post!!!  The little boy in the following has it right!!!

A  Dog’s Purpose Through the Eyes of a Six Year Old   

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish 
Wolfhound named Belker.  The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their 
little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping 
for a miracle. 
 
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer.  I told the  family we 
couldn’t do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia 
procedure for the old dog in their home. 
 
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be 
good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure.  They felt as though 
Shane might learn something from the experience. 
 
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker’s family
surrounded him.  Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last 
time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on.  Within a few 
minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. 
 
The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty 
or confusion.  We sat together for a while after Belker’s Death, wondering 
aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ”I know why.” 

Startled, we all turned to him.  What came out of his mouth next stunned 
me.   I’d never heard a more comforting explanation.  It has changed the 
way I try and live. 
 
He said, ”People are born so that they can learn how to live a good
life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?” The 
Six-year-old continued, ”Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they 
don’t have to stay as long.” 
 
Live simply. 
 
Love generously. 
 
Care deeply. 
 
Speak kindly. 
 
Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like: 
 
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them. 
 
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride. 
 
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure 
Ecstasy. 

Take naps. 

Stretch before rising. 
 
Run, romp, and play daily. 
 
Thrive on attention and let people touch you. 
 
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do. 
 
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass. 
 
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree. 
 
When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body. 
 
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk. 
 
Be loyal. 
 
Never pretend to be something you’re not. 
 
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it. 
 
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them 
gently. 
 
ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

 Many years ago now, I sold a little boy Rubens (Ch. and Ch. Rattlebridge Masterpiece) son to the daughter of fellow judge, the wonderful late Judy Doniere.

Tilt changed the lives of Tami and Jeff Byroads, now my dear friends, and started them on the road to showing Cavaliers.  Tilt enjoyed a wonderful life with the Byroads.  He was very sensitive and we swore he saw spirits, but only good spirits like that of Tami’s beloved father when he passed.  We all loved Tilt.  I join in the sorrow of my “other family.”  Good night, dear Tilt. Until the Rainbow Bridge.  Give my Al a kiss from me!

 

Rattlebridge Tilt A Whirl

In Loving Memory

"TILT"

June 6th 1998 – October 20, 2010

You came to us from 3,000 miles away as a little 4 month old and stole our
hearts as you felt they were yours to keep. You quickly became the head of
the house, protector of your queen, and so "aggressively cute" that the
desire to have more Cavaliers soon after became not only a reality, but part
of our lives.

You passed the baton on to Ace and he promised you that although he could
never fill your paws, he will always protect your queen. Your best friend
Winnie, will miss you the most of the pack, as you taught her how to take
care of her "king". You showed Kahnrad that his princess is his to protect
and he said he will always remember that when she returns from college.
Party Sue, your Rattlebridge counterpart, whom you always let snuggle up to
you at night, will willingly go to snuggle with Ace as you have wished for
her to do. She thanks you from the bottom of her heart for all you have
taught her about how to get the food made quickly and earlier each morning.
You have kept little Cash in line and tried your best to teach him manners
and how to get in line for the succession order and to obey Ace as the new
"head of house".

Tilt, it was only fitting that you were with us as a pet – never seeing the
show ring until the beautiful age of 10 ½ years old, where you competed your
first and only time in the Veterans ring and won Best Veteran in Specialty.
As if you felt you needed to do one last thing to prove to us just how
special of a boy you are. We cherish that moment as we do all the others
over the years you have given us. Thanks for being the best "car rider",
"river dog", the best eater, and the best Tilt A Whirl ever. 
           

Our little "ghost buster" as we nicknamed you, never hesitated
to tell us our deceased loved ones were certainly nearby. As you grew more
accustomed to seeing these spirits, we were at ease to know that because of
you, we were able to say "I love you and goodbye" one last time. So now is
your time sweet boy, for us to say " I love you and goodbye". You leave us
only physically as we know you will stay around us as you never feel that
your job is done.

WE AWAIT YOUR RETURN,

Your loving family

Jeff, Tami & Karlie

 

 

 

And now a story to touch hearts . . . I cry every time I read it.  We know that Tilt, well loved, will be waiting for his family. All of our beloveds were waiting for Al and will be waiting for me standing beside my Al wagging and wiggling with joy.

AT THE RAINBOW BRIDGE
by Alexander Theodore, Bouvier, Fourth Year Resident (written September 2001)

On the morning of September 11, 2001, there was an unprecedented amount of
activity at the Rainbow Bridge. Decisions had to be made. They had to be
made quickly. And, they were. 

An issue, not often addressed here, is the fact that many residents really
have no loved one for whom to wait. Think of the pups who lived and died in
hideous puppy mills. No one on earth loved or protected them. What about
the many who spent unhappy lives tied in backyards? And, the ones who were
abused. Who are they to wait for?

   
We don’t talk about that much up here. We share our loved ones as they
arrive, happy to do so. But we all know there is nothing like having your
very own person who thinks you are the most special pup in the Heavens.   
Last Tuesday morning a request rang out for pups not waiting for specific
persons to volunteer for special assignment.. An eager, curious crowd
surged excitedly forward, each pup wondering what the assignment would be. 
They were told by a solemn voice that unexpectedly, all at once, over 4,000
loving people had left Earth long before they were ready. All the pups, as
all pups do, felt the humans’ pain deep in their own hearts. Without
hearing more, there was a clamoring among them – "May I have one to
comfort?" "I’ll take two, I have a big heart." "I have been saving kisses
forever."   

One after another they came forward begging for assignment. One
cozy-looking fluffy pup hesitantly asked, "Are there any children coming? I
would be very comforting for a child ’cause I’m soft and squishy and I
always wanted to be hugged." A group of Dalmatians came forward asking to
meet the Firemen and be their friends. The larger working breeds offered to
greet the Police Officers and make them feel at home. Little dogs
volunteered to do what they do best, cuddle and kiss. 

Dogs who on Earth had never had a kind word or a pat on the head, stepped
forward and said, "I will love any human who needs love." 
Then all the dogs, wherever on Earth they originally came from, rushed to
the Rainbow Bridge and stood waiting, overflowing with love to share – each
tail wagging an American Flag.

It has been awhile since I have written about my present life without Al. He has been gone for two months today and I feel his loss more intensely now than I did when I was  busy with all the details before and after his death. I am in a thirteen week Grief Share group at my church; I am also seeing a grief counselor and am going to a monthly grief group. I am writing these details of what I am doing to perhaps help someone else with grief.  I am continuously told that grief is a personal process; people grieve in different ways.  Several people in my group have lost a child,husband, sister.  Some are still struggling long after their loss.  For some the grief never ends although the pain recedes.

I am taking over Al’s chores which he wisely prohibited me from doing, but I have conquered the zero turn John Deere after zigzagging across the yard.  I have been shown how to run the big snow blower that we bought last year when Al had the bright idea of finally getting one; I had told him we needed one for two years, but no—it had to be his idea!  The weed whacker is impossible.  Al bought it for my birthday last year; it was not the one I wanted but I did not want to hurt his feelings so it just hangs in the garage. We have a big generator that keeps appliances and lights going, but it is just a big red blob in the garage to me.  I have no idea how to run it; I remember Al making many trips to get gas, diesel, or kerosene (how would I know!) to run it, but will really need it if we get the paralyzing snow and ice storm we got two years ago. 

So many things to worry about, but nothing compares to the hole in my daily life.  Al and my favorite television show was “House.” He watched it and “NCIS” religiously and the reruns ad nauseum.  I tried to watch the premiers of House and NCIS this week and could not do it for I would have no one with whom to chat about the programs. A
l least I am no longer subjected to a daily dose of  “Judge Judy.” It seems as if all the threads of al life together tattered.  Oh, well, enough of my musings. 

I am excited about a few of  last year’s puppies that are all about a year old.  I think they are all very pleasing to the eye with wonderful personalities, but have no idea if I will get them into the show ring as I must be careful with finances now.  I am so attached to them that I would have great difficulty putting them in show homes at this point.  If I can I may try to show them this fall, but even showing them depends on what condition my orthopedics are in at the time.  Pictures will be posted later but their names are the blenheim boy Rattlebridge Over the Hump (Humphrey); the tri girl Rattlebridge Tantalize;  the darling five month old blenheim girl Rattlebridge Sarandon (Suzie); the blenheim boy Rattlebridge Cyber Dawn and his brother and sister that live with my friend and co breeder Sherri Meyer:  Rattlebridge The Dawnald and Rattlebridge Dawnatella. Quite a crew and we will see how all shakes down as they grow up. We have not bred for awhile but now have two litters, mostly boys; of tricolors.  I do so want a good tricolor boy—one that would gaze at me like my beloved Bandi did. 

Later . . .

 

Thank you to all of you who have sent condolences through many emails and many, many cards.  I would like to thank each of you personally, but of course cannot.  Your words of sympathy and encouragement made it easier to bear up under the incredible grief I feel every second of every day. Grief is a strange bedfellow and I am doing my best to get on with life as Al would have wanted me to do.

Al’s Memorial Service took place Thursday. August 19, which was a month after he died due to his older brother not being able to make the trip until then.  Fr. David Shalk, a friend of ours, officiated at he Catholic service although Al was not Catholic.  I am grateful to my parish, St. John Neumann, Sunbury, Ohio, and its pastor, Fr. David Sizemore, for allowing the service to be held there as I was greatly comforted.  I am very grateful to all who came to honor and remember Al and to support me.  The beginning music was my husband’s beloved Bach, followed by my niece Annie singing our favorite hymn, “On Eagles’ Wings.  Al’s niece Gabriella, an opera singer, sang the “Lord’s Prayer” and “The Wind Beneath Wings.”  I carried my beloved’s ashes out to Sarah Brightman’s melodious and haunting “It’s Time to Say Goodbye.”    At the risk of repeating parts of what I have already related on this blog, below is the Eulogy I delivered for Al:

 

Al’s Eulogy

I loved my husband. Our first conversation on the phone before we met was about broccoli, gardening, and nature. Thank God he loved he loved dogs and horses for if he didn’t I was in trouble. I was a “goner” as soon as we met. We met January 20, 1984, on the coldest night of that year and we knew that we belonged together. We just knew. We weren’t sure how; we weren’t sure why. We just knew that no longer would we be alone. Our first kiss in the restaurant parking lot sealed our future.

We were married six weeks later . . . the feisty gal from Brooklyn (Al hated New Yorkers, go figure)—the queen of excess and Irish emotion and the master of moderation and restraint. The earthy hopeless romantic and the complete realist with a wry sense of humor.

A poem from the romanticist Elizabeth Barrett Browning describes my way of expressing my love for Al:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with a passion put to use

In my old grief’s, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God chooses,

I shall but love thee better after death.

In Al’s desk I found the following Alfred Lord Tennyson poem in Al’s writing; it describes Al’s way of expressing love with his own brand of humor perfectly but doesn’t say much for me:

In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

He will hold thee, when his passion shall run its novel course:

Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

To explain further Al’s sense of humor, I submit the following: his favorite tee shirt which I hold up now and which sweetly reads: “My next wife will be normal.”

What is the measure of a man: for Al it was honor, integrity, ethics, honesty, strength of character, and stoicism. He believed in hard work and no complaints.

For Al it was the love of his children Carolyn and Stuart, his grandchildren Audrey and Darren, his brothers Bill and Jack, now deceased, his sister Susan and his nieces and nephews, and me.

For Al it was gardening; farming, nature, red tailed hawks, bird watching, Celtic history and music, Bach, his beloved Cavaliers and the Rattlebridge fame we achieved together, his mare Buttercup to whom he sang the Gilbert and Sullivan tune, “They call me Buttercup” from the time she was born. For Al it was science, his great passion for sailing especially with his brother Bill. And for Al at the very end it was Jesus Christ whom he had spent his lifetime at least publicly denying.

Before we were married, he told me: “My soul is in your hands” and I took it very seriously. I felt that if I were a better Christian and a better person, I could set the example to bring him to Jesus. Al despised the hypocrisy of organized religion with its corrupt scandalous leaders who should have been the epitome of God’s grace and kindness to man. I explained that because men were fallible, it did not mean that belief in the goodness and omnipresence of God was tainted. I prayed for 26 years that Al would believe as I believe. He balked. His soul was never in my hands but in God’s hands all the time. Two days before Al died, he became filled with anger physically pushing me away and harshly uttering that “he hated this world and wanted to leave this earth.” I climbed in beside him, held him tight, and fervently told him to let go of the anger and the darkness in his head for it was the devil’s work. I begged him to accept the light and God’s love. I said the “Our Father” and he joined me in the prayer. I asked him to pray to Jesus and he said “I am” and physically relaxed. Later he told me to ‘let him go” please let me go and I told him yes, it was okay to go.

The night before he died, he was restless and agitated. My niece Annie and her husband Eric, both of whom loved Al very much and whom he loved, and I held a prayer vigil over Al. I once again crawled in beside him as close as I could, inhaling his scent, and whispering my love for him and more importantly God and His Son Jesus’ love for him. Eric said that Al visibly relaxed as peace descended upon him.

Al died the next day very peacefully and I know he died believing—the answer to my prayers.

Recently I had researched near death and dying experiences which seem to mirror each other around the world. Dr. John Lerma, hospice physician at Houston Medical Center, wrote the book Into the Light which chronicles the stories of dying patients who testified that they saw angels and sometimes Christ at their bedsides embracing them with incredible love. Sometimes inexplicably a white feather would appear in the room–a sign that the angels were filling the room with light.

Even though I believe that Al is in heaven, I have begged Al and God for a sign. The other night just before closing, I pulled into Lowe’s and at my feet as I got out of the car lay this white feather. The smaller feather Annie just found in the barn at the farm Al loved so much, the only white feather we have ever seen at the farm. I have my sign.

The love of my life is with God watching over those he loved especially me and cringing that I now have access to the checkbook which he knows I will screw up for before I was married I balanced my checkbook by changing banks every four months. He is also worried that I will never change the oil in the cars. Al took good care of me. He was my rock, my support, my solace, and my friend. A friend just wrote me: “In knowing Al, a person of quiet wisdom with a sneaky little dry sense of humor, there is one thing I loved seeing each time. This is a man who really "got you". He knew you inside and out and loved you. He loved sharing life with you.” Yes he really “got me” and I “got him.” Two souls that came together on that cold night.

Not a demonstrative man verbally he still told me many times: “all I do and my life is for you.” His support allowed me to fly but he was always and always will be the “wind beneath my wings.” His love is alive in my heart, but oh, my Albie, I miss you so . . .

 

Before we were married, Al and I had dinner and talked about God.  I am very Catholic although I did not always practice my faith as I should have, but my journey has led me to more spirituality and a better understanding of Christianity and Jesus Christ whom I love with all my heart. Since Al was not truly a believer, he told me that night that “his soul was in my hands.”  I took his statement very seriously and believed that if I was a better Christian, Al would believe. I prayed for his acceptance of Jesus Christ as his personal Savior for twenty six years. Al hated the hypocrisy in organized religion from the corrupt evangelists, to the problem of pedophile priests, to the lack of human decency from those who professed to be oh so Christian.  I felt the same way, but man sins.  I keep telling God that His biggest mistake was giving us free will as we have really screwed it up. 

I ministered to Al every chance I could.  When he was in the hospital the several times in the past two years for his chemo treatments, he met one of the chaplains, a Lutheran minister, who had several conversations with Al. Still I saw no progress in his acceptance of God.  When listening to music, especially his beloved Bach, he often stated that music was a reason to believe in God’s existence.  This last time in the hospital, my praying for him was non stop.  When he admitted to being terrified, I calmed him down with prayer and talk of heaven:  he had nothing to fear.  During his anger described in a previous post, I prayed and talked him through the anger by telling him to push the dark thoughts out of his head and let in God’s light. I did not stop talking and praying.  He was visited several times by the Lutheran chaplain with whom he had talked and by my Priest, Father Shalk, whom Al knew and liked.  Finally when I asked him to pray to Jesus, he replied “I am.”  The night before he died Eric, Annie and I held a vigil over him, praying, reading from the psalms, and singing hymns.  I crawled into his bed and held him, caressing his face, reminiscing about our life together and talking about God’s love for him and how God was embracing him as he left me.  He died the next day very peacefully; I know he accepted Christ but my faith can be weak so I kept praying that he was in God’s arms and happy in the Light.

I have read two books by Dr. John Lemma MD: Into the Light and Learning From the Light.  Dr. Lerma works at Houston Medical Center in hospice.  He has studied near death experiences as he worked with his patients.  I have read several books on near death experiences; all the research done in every country on this phenomena describes the same scenario no matter what the language, faith, or terminal  disease.  All the patients describe the same experiences while nearing death; they describe seeing angels and sometimes Jesus Himself.

Now I have prayed for a sign that my Al is okay and in God’s arms instead of mine.  All of Lerma’s patients describe seeing angels; sometimes a feather appears near the patient where there is no real possibility of a feather appearing. I have been begging God to let me know that all is well with my Al.  I know he is in heaven because I believe in the mercy and goodness of God. However, I been agonizing over not knowing how to reach Al or having him reach me.  Well, today, while shopping at Loew’s I got out of the car on this huge expanse of blacktop and at my feet lay a white feather with no reason for the feather to be there.  I had my sign and it is real.  I worship the kind and merciful God who gave me this small miracle from one of His angels wings.  I have my sign; my Al is basking in the glory of God. Praise to you, Oh Lord, and Your Son who died so that my Al can live forever in The Light.

 

It has been a week since my beloved Al died and I just cannot believe he will never be home again.  I walk this large house aimlessly, I go through his things smelling every shirt to catch his scent, I sit where he sat in the living room, I sit in his place at the table, I try to find him in every corner.  I cannot hear his voice; I cannot see him walk in the door; I cannot find him and yet he is everywhere.  His little Spangle goes from room to room, she looks dejected as she cannot find him either and is so confused; we are now sisters in grief.

He always did the grocery shopping because he thought I always spent too much money; true that.  I am out of everything and yet I cannot make myself go to the store.  Last night after going to the pharmacy to stop his prescriptions being automatically refilled, I went to Bob Evans and sat at the booth where we last sat.  I looked at a couple across the aisle and knew that I would never again be part of a couple again.  I walked out with such a heavy heart and cried all the way home.  I am a strong woman and I am functioning enough to pay bills and do the dog and household chores.  Some of my dogs are at the farm with my niece and nephew and will come home after I judge this weekend.  Judging and any showing I do will be a special challenge as was always here so I could leave.  I think of the most stupid things like who will take me to the airport and pick my up; who will make the salads at dinner; who will make my morning tea; who will read the paper to me and make me watch CNN or the awful Judge Judy whom he watched daily; who will hold me when I need to be held; who will put me first and love me unconditionally as I love him. Who be the other half that makes the whole?

I have known for a long time that I would lose Al; he has battled one kind of cancer or another for nearly twenty years.  Yet, now I just cannot believe that he is gone,  I can now empathize with every woman who has found herself or will find herself in the position that I am now in.  I never understood the depth of the loss of one’s spouse before and now sadly I do. 

 

I have had so many emails concerning plans for Al’s Memorial Celebration from those in our area.  I had intended to have just a very private family service, but some of our friends said they would like to attend.  There is absolutely no reason for anyone to feel obligated to attend as Al and I would not expect it. Even so,  I thought I would post the arrangements:

Just finished arrangements for Al’s Memorial Service, no viewing. St. John Neumann Catholic Church in Sunbury, Ohio. 7 PM, Thursday August 19, 2010.  Light Refreshments in social hall after. 

Al was not Catholic, but I am very Catholic. Father Sizemore, pastor of St. John Neumann, has graciously given the privilege to me of having Al’s Service in the Sanctuary of my church.  I am very grateful.  Father Shalk from my childhood church has been a friend to both Al and me.  When we were talking about Al he remarked that “Al was Al” and truer words were never spoken.

Donna Riess who has a very special Rattlebridge ruby girl, just sent a lovely email to me with words I have printed below.  I am so thankful for all the emails and cards in memory of my Al.  Thank you.

Donna’s words:

The day I picked up Lucy from you, I noticed something that I very rarely
see.  It was a look that passed between you and Al.  The look said it
all; there was understanding as though you could read each others minds,
there was respect, there was playfulness, there was devotion, there was
love…. Not everyone gets the chance to find that perfect soul mate.

It seems that I will be using this blog to describe stages in the grief process.  One minute I seem to be okay and then I rage and sob and call to him not to leave me.  Silly I know, but his presence is everywhere and I miss him so much.  When I came home from the hospital I ran to his pillow and his undershirts just to catch his scent. After he died, I held him for a couple of hours with my nose in the crook of his neck to catch his essence as I had done so many times in our marriage.  I think back at all the things I could have done better, paid more attention to his needs while being so caught up in my career and dogs. Al suffered from one type of cancer or another for twenty years.   He was determined to live for me.  He endured chemo for me.  Once one has cancer, one waits for its reoccurrence despite chemo, surgery, radiation.  If I were to get cancer, I would do nothing because I could not live knowing it could strike again and again.  He did it for me.

He was not a man to accept softness or babying.  I wanted to baby him, but instead I just made sure he was doing what he needed to stay well except for this last chemo when I failed to keep his nutrition where it should be as he would eat little but fruit. I nagged and prodded and threatened but nothing could make him eat; I am told it would not have mattered anyway. He was just losing ground.He knew he was dying; he knew it was time but it was not time for me.  It would never be time for me.

Tonight a friend and I listened to music to be played at his memorial service.  He loved Bach; listening to his favorite pieces without him was almost more than I could bear.  He often said that he could believe in God because of music, especially the genius of Bach.  I listened to the Celtic Women CD’s.  He was so interested in the Celts, read everything he could about them and perfected whole monologues of legend and lore. He was interested in so many things with his fine mind and scientific bent.  He was so brilliant and capable.  I just cannot believe how empty this house is and how empty my heart.

So many memories, so many tears . . .