"Our Life is Made by the Death of Others"

*Some great early pix of my darling hubby and his Mum, nephew, friends...my handsome Aussie!


Dear Dazzy,
Today-the 20th of October-is officially the six-month mark of your death, of your moving into that another realm of existence-whatever that may be.
I really still count by Friday arvos, however, because that's when my hell on earth began-the moment I stepped into the lounge room and saw you lying on the floor...

I went into shock immediately; I know that now. I remember shouting your name, and trying to move you a bit so I could do CPR. Sadly I knew it was a futile gesture. I could tell you had already left us. I don't remember dialing 911, but I do remember telling the operator to get somebody here ASAP. I vividly remember dropping the phone after I gave her our addy, and I can still hear her telling me to stay on the phone with her-in my altered state, I thought," Why does she want me to talk to HER when I have to help my husband?!"

So the phone fell to the floor, this woman shouting at me to get back on and talk, and all I can sort through next is the paramedics pounding on the door, coming in, and hustling me into the bedroom to wait. How absurd is that?

I FOUND YOU, for chrissake!

What could they possibly do to you that would make me feel WORSE if I watched? I didn't argue with them at the time. I only came out because they wanted me to take Ranger away from you. He wouldn't leave you. He knew, just like I did. I gathered him up in my arms and brought him back to our room. Finally they came in and told me what I knew all along-there was nothing else they could do. You were gone.

I made them give me your wedding ring-I insisted-and even though they are not supposed to, they did.

That absurdity- of not staying with you while they worked on you- came to me the other day while I was sorting through the emotions that always show up before these pivotal marker days. They are like sign posts for the cosmic highway that is our life: they force me to take stock, assess, compare, judge. Am I doing what I should be doing? Living life they way I want, while also making you proud? Am I moving in a forward direction?

Sometimes I wish there was a rest stop. Other times I am glad there is no posted speed limit! Ah, I lived with a cute lead-footed driver, didn't I? :P

The grief monster is more like a high-five interchange; I'll probably get turned around a bit but with patience and a GPS I'll get to where I want to be. Sadly YOU were my GPS babe, and now I have to dig out that old MAPSCO to figure out where the hell I am. It's hard work but I am starting on it.

So, it's now been half a year-HALF A YEAR-since we snuggled on the couch after dinner and watched something with NO redeeming social value, like the Simpson's or Family Guy or COPS.

Six months without your calling me in the middle of the day to leave a silly ocker voice mail on my school extension that just says "Hi honey, see you tonight, I Luuuuuuuv Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, princess..."

Twenty six weeks of convincing myself that it will be OK to go on without you. That I can have a happy life if I want one, that you would want that for me, the kids, your friends.

182 days-as of today-that I have gone to bed and sighed, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that accompanies the ache in my heart as I gaze at the smooth sheets and uncrumpled pillow that make up your side of the bed.

4,368 hours of sorting out "me" from "you" and "us".

26,2080 minutes of trying to remember to breathe as my brain attempts to wrap itself around the concept that you will not be back on this Earth-EVER- no matter whom I beg, no matter what promises I can make, no matter whose god I pray to.

According to Leonardo da Vinci,

"Our life is made by the death of others."

Indeed.

Your death has changed me in some very profound ways, babe. I am more open to the possibility of life after death now than I ever was before. Religion still has no place in my heart , but we both know that spirituality and religion are light-years apart.

I swear that when the phone went out yesterday-for no apparent reason, just the house phone, just like the day after you passed-I just knew it was you saying, "It's OK honey, you'll be fine..."

Some people might think I have lost any remaining sanity with that statement.

Especially those who really know me and my science geek ways. But there is something weird and comforting all at the same time to think that your energy, spirit , whatever you want to call it, really can stay in my heart as I live the rest of my life. I like that idea.

I know now that I can choose any upcoming exit on my highway of grief .

No more fast lane changes and swerving to miss oncoming traffic; no more driving in the wrong direction. I am driving into a life without you-but one that always honors your memory, and the man you will always be in my mind's eye-a strong, handsome, fearless, loving, funny, cheeky buggar of a man. I will always be proud to call you my husband.

Sometimes I think of this time that we have to be apart much like the time when we first met.

We wanted to be together ASAP, but jobs and timelines had to be juggled to fit both of our schedules.

It took us almost nine months to meet in person!

By that time we were crazy about each other. Again, we had to be apart for a while-but we kept the countdown calendars, we talked all the time, we sent pressies and cards and we embraced patience as our own.

After we married we had one last enforced split while you finished your Art degree.

Finally , in December of 2002, we got to be together for "always."

Sadly, our always was way too short, but now I believe I will see you again one day, honey.

I believe that when it is my turn to leave Terra firma you will be the one with an outstretched hand- ever the gentleman-helping me get to wherever/whatever awaits after death.

We will indeed be together again, in love for always, like we promised each other in our wedding vows:

"...for no matter where I am, I will always love you..."

I know you'll watch out for me and the kids as we start on this next part of our journey without your physical presence, babe. We will always love you and miss you. But its time now for us to get on with finding some more happy bits, in order to put some of our sadness behind us.

I know you understand what I mean, honey, even If I don't.

I love you Dazzles-

Always.

Kisses, Wifey