Page 12

April 12-15, 2005:Well, it's been an incredibly busy week from Tuesday to Friday. About the only 'free' time I had was on Thursday the 14th, and that was only for about 2 hours in the evening when I took Diane's sister out for 'coffee' again. We didn't really go anywhere for 'coffee', we just sort of drove around for a while, went out on the freeway for a bit, and talked. It was nice, really, but I was just too burnt out to really enjoy the companionship as much as I would have liked.

The only other really eventful thing this week was my meeting with the Hospice people to talk about what happened when Diane died. They offered all sorts of apologies, but wouldn't agree to drop the people that dropped the ball here. They were talking about how hard it is to find people, etc. After a few days of reflection, I'm thinking… too bad. You want to make it 'right', then take out the problem. This is not something you 'make a mistake' with. Period.

It appears from an email response I got that they took at least some of my suggestions seriously, but I don't think they quite get my resolve on this one. I'll have to phone them next week and reiterate that point.

I've found myself now, almost 4 complete weeks from Diane's death, trying to find some smell of hers in her clothes, sheets, etc. Smell is a very powerful stimulant, and I just want to remember what that smell is like. I can imagine it if I really think about it, but I don't want to 'imagine' it. I want to immerse myself in that until it's no longer possible at all.

I've been talking to her less and less this week. In one sense I'm starting to feel like she's gone, and in total opposition to that I'm having strong feelings that she is here. Almost like I'm thinking, "Oh, Diane's gone out somewhere and will be back soon."

Diane,
I love you. I have almost since the day we met, and I will still feel that way as long as I live. If I can't be sure of anything else, I know that is how I will always feel. There may someday be someone else I will love (although I can't really see that right now) but I will never feel exactly the way about anyone else that I do about you. You are a special person and you deserve a special place in my heart and in my mind.
Love, Your Husband, Always.

April 16 - 18, 2005: Man, another 3 days gone by. Where did they go??

I've been avoiding writing a bit I guess. It was a month ago yesterday that I took Diane to the hospital, a month ago today that we were told it was going to be another couple to a few weeks or so, and less than 6 hours from now, a month since I was standing in the rain yelling.

All the last week or so I've been thinking Diane's at home. I talk to people, and I'm back to talking about her in the present tense. I wouldn't be surprised to walk into our room and see her sitting there. There is something happening to me, which I suppose is denial. The odd thing, at least in my mind, is that I am reverting back to this. The first week or so I was in shock, then the next 2 weeks I was in stunned acceptance. After that, I was able to really feel almost 'happy' on occasion, and now I'm back to denial. No matter how much someone explains it to you, with the 'Stages of Grief' thing, you still don't know unless you've been there.

I asked my daughter last night if I should take off my wedding ring yet. It's weird but I suddenly realized I'm not 'married' anymore. I thought she was going to shoot me with the look that I got.

It was about that time (and even more right at this moment) that I understood that I have been going through the stages of 'grief', along with Diane, for more than three years now. I can't imagine what it was like for her, to be grieving for herself! How bizarre is that??? If you ever go through this sort of thing, don't let anyone tell you what the 'stages' of grief are. There are no 'stages'. Yeah, maybe there are if you lose someone like most people do, where they just die without warning, but not when it's a long term illness. I'm realizing that those stages of grief don't exist. Instead, in cases like mine, you flip back and forth, with no defined stages at all.

Here are those 'standard' stages which, although deviated from the original 'stages', are what people commonly refer to today:

1. DENIAL - 'Oh, this isn't happening.'
2. ANGER - 'Damn, this is happening.'
3. BARGAINING - 'God, let me take her place.'
4. DEPRESSION - 'This sucks, I don't want to live without her.'
5. ACCEPTANCE - 'She's really gone. She wanted me to continue with my life, and I guess I have to.'

Except that's not how it works here. I was in denial, and acceptance, of Diane's fate since 2001. During that time, I bargained with God, got really depressed, and the only anger I felt was that I had promised to love, honour, and take care of her, and I wasn't able to accomplish that. I failed her, and that's what I'm angry about.

Now she's gone and I find I don't love her any less than when she was with me in body. I maybe even love her more, if that's possible. I am furious with myself for not doing this or that, or in some cases, for doing this or that. I'm angry with myself because I'm not as depressed as I should be. For the whole time she was sick, I had to be strong for her and the kids, to be able to take charge of the situation. I keep asking myself why I didn't jump to her and hold her when she started crying as the doc told her the news, and then I answer myself. I didn't because Diane looked at me in a way that said, 'I need you to be strong for me.' If I had have comforted her right then, she would have lost hope and I would have broken down, probably never to recover. While I know all this in my heart, it doesn't make me feel any better about it. Sure, once we were out of the doc's office and in the elevator I held her and cried with her, but with my arms wrapped around her she felt safe, and I knew instinctively it was ok for me to react for that moment.

What this means is that when you're faced with a terminal illness, the longer you go on living through it, whether you're the caregiver or the patient, you become accustomed to these supposed 'stages' of grief throughout your everyday life. It becomes who you are, what makes you get up the next day, and is ingrained in every thing that you do.

We talked a few times about what I'd do after she was gone. Diane wanted me to continue. At one point she even picked out who she thought I should be with. She was wrong on that count by the way. :)

But still, here I am, a month after she's gone, and I'm feeling all sorts of guilt. I know what thoughts and actions are making me feel guilty, and at the same time I know why I'm doing and thinking things, and that I have no reason to feel guilty about them.

Like the rings. My grieving is at a stage where I'm getting closure, to a degree. I realize that I am no longer married, and that the rings are holding me to that vow that I took what seems to be decades ago. A vow that no longer has any reason for being. That's not to say that I don't and won't always love Diane, just that things are different now, and a ring isn't really all that important. Still, I'll never get rid of them though. Those rings are part of me and represent a large part of my life, so I will never let them go. However, do I need to wear them to remember that? Mine I don't, so maybe it will come off soon. Diane's ring, the engagement and wedding band set, I am wearing and will likely keep on my person for some time to come.

Is it too early to think about this? I know some will say yes. However, I've had 3 and a half years to reflect specifically on this issue, so I don't really worry about what those people think. They can't possibly understand what I've been through, nor can they seem to understand that it's time now that I am allowed to think about myself.

There's a lot more I'd like to get into about work, jobs, friends, and relationships, but I'll have to do that another time. It's late, and exactly one month ago at this time was the last time I saw my love alive. In another 6 hours and 15 minutes (adjusted for Daylight Savings Time), it will be exactly one month to the minute that I first saw Diane dead, and my entire world fell apart.

I love you Diane, I always have and always will. Forever.