March 28, 2005: Well, another day down. So much happened to me today that I just can't relate. The emotional rollercoaster was enough to make me sick. Went for another drive tonight, just for an hour or so.
I was on the computer here, and I was about to let Diane know her show was coming on. Just for a split second, not even long enough to register the thought. That just sunk me. I had to get out. So I drove again to one of the places we used to go stop at, and 'talked' to her about anything. I was just chattering out loud really, and I started to get mad.
Diane and I have both had lives that were just not fair. So many things went wrong, so much so that people often don't believe what we tell them. I got mad at everyone I had seen, all the older people who were with their spouses still, all the people that have 'good' lives, and anyone else that was what a normal person would call 'stable'.
In the multitude of lessons Diane taught me, one was that people don't always make their own destiny (regardless of any religion type beliefs). I used to hear a lot of people, many Americans for example, say that people make their own fortunes, their own good life, etc. That hard work and perseverance pay off in the long run, to make you successful. Really, this couldn't be further from the truth. I read an article on a website today and it really made me think. It was going on about how you don't have a right to housing, health care, etc, and I thought, "You have no idea what you're saying."e; Do we not have the right to live?
It reminds me a of an old Bruce Hornsby song, 'The Way It Is'. The first verse goes like this:
Standing in line marking time-
Waiting for the welfare dime
'Cause they can't buy a job
The man in the silk suit hurries by
As he catches the poor old lady's eyes
Just for fun he says, "Get a job"
Many people on welfare choose not to work, sure, but then there are those who don't. Should we condemn them all? I was union active when I met Diane, but I was lucky to have a union job. She made me realize, really know, and not just through abstract thought, that not everyone is so lucky. As we faced disaster after disaster in our lives, before and after we met, Diane is the one that put it all into focus for me. Make the best of it. Do what you can for others, because one day you may be there.
She told me a story when she came home from work one day. We had very little money, and bills were piling up, but she passed a family on the side of the road, a mom, a dad, and two kids. They had a sign that said the husband would work for food for his family. Diane went down to the next block and pulled into a gas station. She said something said to her, 'Go and give them something'. All Diane had on her was a $20 bill. She got out of the car, and walked back to the family. She gave them her money, and said something to them about it being tithe (a religious offering). It turned out that the family had come into town after being promised a job or something and then were dumped, were living in their car and couldn't afford gas, and the shelters were full and that they needed money to get into a decent hostel. They needed about $20.
This wasn't a family trying to scam the system, this was a family trying to merely survive. Diane could see that somehow and wanted to help, even to the detriment of us. At our worst times, she would go without eating so the kids could eat, and would make me eat so I could get strong enough to go back to work.
So anyway, I got back from my drive just as 'her show' would have been ending. I was tired, burnt out from crying, and just generally not in a mood for anything. All I could do was watch TV and think about her. I thought about the new problems I was facing, and how she could help me with them. I'm stressed about certain family matters, but you know what? Diane told me through her actions in life that it would all be ok. All she ever wanted from me was to love her and the kids. She didn't care if we were rich, or poor, or somewhere in between, just that we had each other. I realized tonight something I realized when we first got together. And that's that I have always felt the same way towards her. I miss my wife and love terribly, and I believe she misses me. What more really matters? We had a lot of problems (health and financial) in our life together, but I have heard many times over the years friends, family and sometimes even complete strangers say they envied us for what we had; a true love that was apparent to everyone around us.
March 29, 2005: Another long day. I had to start the masses of paperwork today. Getting the bank accounts in order, all the Death Certificates figured out as to who needs one, even down to talking to the video store. They only had my name on the account, so that wasn't a problem. It's a good thing we had the cars in my name and stuff though, because that could have been a problem.
Maybe I'll go for another drive tonight. That seems like a good plan. Lots of added stress today, I think I need a break. Thought a fair bit about Diane today, but it was mostly good, with the exception of saying repeatedly, 'Where did she put this paper??'
Short message tonight, maybe I'll put up a longer one tomorrow. I'm just burnt out now. Goodnight My Love. Diane, you'll be in my heart forever.
March 30, 2005: Two weeks ago today I was working, and I had taken some time to play a video game. Diane was in bed, and all was ok. I was sitting here that night, as I've mentioned before, thinking, "I'm going to finish this game, then the next couple of weeks I'm going to spend every spare minute with her." If only I had known, maybe things would be different.
Sure, I say that, but do I really mean it? I don't think so. We really don't have control over what happens in our lives sometimes, and as it was pointed out to me today, I obviously needed that time to myself, a break from the worry and activities of caring for Diane, working, etc. When I went to bed that night, she was pretty much asleep, and I told her I loved her, kissed her, and fell asleep with my hand on her knee, as I have done just about every night for nearly three years. The last memory I have of sleeping with my wife in our bed was listening to the sound of her breathing in the dark, feeling the sweat on her knee and arm, smelling her hair, and feeling the warmth of her beside me. I thought about waking her up, but she looked tired, and she was sleeping so peacefully. Maybe I should have?
I suppose I'm at the stage now where I'm second-guessing all my actions, thinking of doing it all over again, and knowing I can't. That hurts. Diane wanted me to continue on, and wanted to be remembered with a fond smile, I owe it to her to honour that, rather than beat myself up with 'could have' or 'should have'. I admit it's tough, but I have to.
The kids and I went out this afternoon. We went out for dinner, visited Diane's mom and sister for a while, and then went clothes shopping for the oldest. It was almost easy to enjoy being with them, and for a moment I forgot that Diane wasn't waiting at home for us. On the way home we were passing through some open farmland/golf course area (I took a back route), and I had to put on the brakes pretty hard to avoid hitting what I thought was a raccoon crossing the road. When I looked closer though, I saw it was a beaver. Imagine, a beaver living it's life within 100 yards of a busy freeway. The kids had never seen a live wild one before, and I had I think only seen one or two in my life, as they're fairly skitterish animals. This one though was walking across the road like he owned it. He saw the cars, but just glanced up and looked at us and them with an expression like, "You're not going to hit me, so I'll just take my time." It was really cool, and I couldn't wait to get home and tell Diane. That was just for a split-second.
Diane would have loved to hear about that, so later on I did tell her about it. I hope she heard me. By the time we got home I was fairly settled, and decided to clean our room. It was about 10:00 at night, but I wanted to start anyway. I had wanted to clean it up for Diane for a long time, but either I was too burnt out, or when I went to start she said not to worry about it because she was too tired or sore, or she wanted to do it herself.
I found a whole bunch of stuff (along with huge dust bunnies, clumps of dog fur, etc) under our bed, and went through it, kind of sorting things as I went. I had had a crying fit, but regained composure and continued. Our youngest came in shortly thereafter. He wanted to know what I was doing, and so I told him, but so I could continue I handed him a book I had found. Diane had gotten this hardcover notebook as a Christmas present from the three of them in 1997, and had written couple of things in it. This was long before she got diagnosed with cancer, but right in the front was her note saying she was going to use the book to keep a record of important things in her life for them when she was gone. The next page was a song she used to sing to them as babies, to put them to sleep. She had made the song up, but they all knew it. The page after that was a letter to the kids, a kind of 'after I'm gone' sort of thing, which was all the more important as this was long before she knew she was 'going anywhere'. This showed she thought about the kid's future all her life. They were what she lived for, really. Finally was a page where she talks about getting her first brand new car, it was a 1998 Saturn SL1, and she loved it. She talked about how she would take care of it, how it would last her a long time, and on and on. The rest of the book was blank.
Or so I thought.
Our youngest was flipping through and found the whole back of the book was filled with pages of writings, specific poems she had written that were important to her. Apparently, she never did finish getting them all down there, but these poems are almost like messages to each of us, reflecting her thoughts and dreams. I had each of the kids look at these, and they read them, and enjoyed the whole book. Diane would have wanted that.
I finished the cleaning and couldn't look at any more of her stuff, so I just put everything away and went to bed. (I'm writing this on the 31st, Thursday) I believe I cried myself to sleep, maybe because it had been a 'good' day, and I felt guilty for almost enjoying it?
I love you Diane, and I remember the November rain, even if you don't.
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