Kindness to oneself

I said something yesterday to a friend that really made me think about myself and how I have been handling things the last few years.  Connie just simply asked, "How are you doing, really?"  Now, you must remember that most people ask "How are you?" and really don't want, or expect an answer.  A rhetorical phrase, I suppose.  But she asked and she truly wanted to know.

So I told her.

In the process of speaking, though, my brain was whizzing away.  And then, I said it. 

I told her that if I knew a person like me and what has happened in my life in the past couple of years, I would tell me to cut myself a break and quit expecting so much from myself.  It made me really think about what I would actually say to myself if I could.

This is my conversation with me. 

"Since 2008 you have been through breast cancer, a bilateral mastectomy and five other surgeries for reconstruction.  

You fought tooth and nail, heart and soul to keep Kevin alive in 2008 while you yourself went through chemotherapy and the physical and emotional issues that come with it. You lost your hair and only cried a little bit about it. You lost your breasts in August of 2008 and handled that with dignity.  A positive attitude and love from your parents, Kevin and friends helped you through it.

You did everything you could to keep Kevin somewhat healthy for the next two years-preparing gluten free foods, making sure he ate, badgering, cajoling, whatever it took and always loving him no matter how sad, sick or angry he became.  You studied hard and got your Bachelor of Arts degree with a 3.89 average during this time.  So much for "chemo brain".

Yes, you lost three friends in that time; people that meant the world to you, but who couldn't or wouldn't accept the changes in you and in Kevin. But you gained so many more people in your life.

You started a new job you loved last year, only to have circumstances and ignorant people ruin it.  

You took care of Kevin in his last few months, never letting him lose his dignity no matter what.  You listened to him, let him cry and cried in his arms.  You "stayed close" just as he asked you to. 

Through this, your own heart was breaking knowing you would eventually lose him, but you truly, truly did not believe he would leave you.  You never, ever gave up the hope that he would survive, not until that last breath came at 6:20 PM on August 5, 2010.

You, my dear, kept your promise to Kevin and you made sure he died in the cabin he always claimed he built for you, long before he even knew you, because of a Gordon Lightfoot song.  He died with you and Terri hugging him and talking to him, with the hawks whistling overhead.   He passed surrounded by love." 

I would say, " You have seen your father lose both legs, go through many related illnesses and lay in a bed in a nursing home for over a year and a half.  You have watched his spirit slowly break.  You have seen your mother's hope and heart be crushed by it all. 

You have tried to help Kevin's mom through the horror of losing a child, Chalan with the loss of his father and the grief of Kevin's friends and loved ones. 

Through it all, you had to deal with your own sadness at the loss of your best friend, companion, lover and champion."

And finally, I would simply say this to me: 

"I can't believe your strength and I am so very proud to call you friend."

I hope I listen and believe.

            I had a situation the other day that although it was unintentional, caused me much pain and sorrow.  It was innocently done, but it hurt.  I had to ask myself the why of the hurt.

            Kevin died August 5-5 months and 21 days ago.  At times it seems like it just happened; at times I feel like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up and he’ll be here.  I find myself hearing something outside, look out the window and yes, there is a part of me that still expects to see him walking down the steps, beer in hand.

I have been so very lucky with my friends and family who don’t think I’m some sort of wacked out person for still feeling things like this.  He was a major part of my life and always will be.  

Sometimes the hurt is so deep, so raw, so gaping that I simply can’t talk about it or share it with anyone. That’s when I go within, shut myself away as much as possible and wait to climb out of the hole.   I was finding it harder and harder to climb out though and finally asked for some help.  Let me advise anyone reading this: before you put chemicals in your body, try diet, exercise and homeopathic treatment.  It worked for me. I still tend to cocoon a lot of the time, but that is my way of dealing with this.  I won’t say I’m still not sad because I am.  I still wait for him to come home and I think he will probably always be standing there in the shadows. 

It hit me a couple of weeks ago though that I was living life without Kevin.  I was doing it.  Just like he said I could, should and would.  For once, I’m glad the grumpy Swede was right-again.  So, here I was feeling a little better about myself, my life and knowing that the future would be so much different than I had always imagined, but that I was lucky I had a future.   I was making plans again.  Fixing things at the cabin, getting the inside finished like we wanted to before he got sick, doing more artwork, writing…all of it.  I remembered-out of the blue-the first time he heard “I Hope You Dance” years ago and told me that he thought of me when he heard it.  I’d forgotten that.  He always did have more faith in me than I did.

I work off and on at a small tavern/pub in Jamestown.  I do not bar tend nights-couldn’t handle that-but on Saturdays.  I’ve always liked the day drinkers, aka as the “DD’s”  because they are generally working people just out for a few beers, some conversation and nothing else.  They aren’t looking for their soul mate, they are not forlorn, or sad or angry.  These customers are just plain everyday people looking for a bit of companionship on a Saturday afternoon.  It’s good for me to get out of these woods once in awhile, too.

            I met a family of men several years ago and through the years have developed the utmost respect for them.  The youngest is about my age and the oldest…over 68 I’d say.  Five brothers who run a farm, work full time and treat everyone with respect and dignity.  They come in, buy rounds of drinks, talk, laugh and generally cheer everyone up.  It’s hard to be in a bad mood when the "boy's" are in there.

            I always enjoyed when they came in, until the other day.

These men had met Kevin and although they did not become “friends”, they were friendly with each other.  Being blue collar workers all their lives, they had much in common and I was one of the things.  He loved me, they all liked me and had respect for Kevin and I as a couple.  Kevin didn’t come to the bar very often when I worked because he always said he hated it when the boyfriend hung around all day because the girlfriend was the bartender.  He said if you couldn’t trust the person that loved you, well, you shouldn’t be together.  We never, not once, had an issue with that.  Okay, once it was close, but it was resolved quickly.

Anyway, last week the oldest got it in his head that his one brother and I should start seeing each other.  I was polite, said I was not ready for that and tried to make light of it, hoping he’d drop the subject.  However, he kept it up and kept it up for what seemed like hours. Here were all of my regular customers listening to this and not knowing what to do or say.  One friend did try to lighten things up for me by making a joke but John still wouldn’t drop it. I was trying to bar tend, trying not become upset there, but it was hard and it was totally unfair.  HE DID NOT HEAR ME! I think if he had stopped and really looked at me and my reaction, he may have realized how he was hurting me.

            I came home and cried.  I was mad, I was sad and I wasn’t sure why exactly.  This man was totally in the wrong for assuming I was even interested in his brother.  I do not flirt, never have and it’s just not a “vibe” I give off.  I was told that by a good male friend, so I believe it's true.  So where did this come from?  His mind I think, knowing his brother was single, had mentioned I was a great person, and…well, you can figure out the rest for yourselves.

            Do some people really get over a loved one’s death that quickly?   Are some people so afraid to be alone that they immediately try to replace that person?  For me, that is just wrong! Right now, I can’t imagine another man in my life and I don’t want another one in my life.  It made me sad as well to think that anyone could believe I would or would even suggest such a thing.  It felt disrespectful somehow, to everything Kevin and I had together.  

If  John's girlfriend of 10 years died would he be back out on the circuit in less than 6 months?  What would that say about his feelings for her if he did?  That his love for her could just be shuttled to the back of his mind that quickly?  I try not to judge anyone because we are all different and have various ways of dealing with things, but I was not expecting to be broad-sided like this and I didn’t like it. I would have liked to get to know the family better and spend time with them, but as friends and nothing more.  I couldn’t be comfortable with them now.

            So by doing this, though totally unintentional and without malice, he took something away from me. I was just beginning to trust others again.  Do I have to watch what I say, who I talk to, who I laugh with because it may be misconstrued as something totally different that what it is?  Probably and I’m sad for that and the small minded people who might think that way.

            Perhaps, as well, I am just too sensitive to these things right now and have made much more out of it than I should. I know this won’t be the last time this happens to me. I'm sort of a likable person and there are many lonely people out there.  I will simply say I’m not interested in that sort of relationship and let them make the choice.  They can accept strictly friendship from me and be happy with that or not.

          It still makes me sad though.  It also made the loss of Kevin so much more…there again.  He is not here to protect me from this sort of thing so I have to shelter myself the best I can.  And you know, I know I can do it.

Forgetting

As if I didn't have enough going on, my little brain is worrying that I'll "forget" things.  Not the everyday stuff, the things that went on in my life with Kevin.  I know how stupid that is, and I'm almost positive that is this something everyone goes through after a loss.  It doesn't take away that fear though.

I don't want to forget his stories-some were so funny and some were very sad.  I don't want to lose that mental picture of the first time he played guitar for me.  We were here and he just casually walked out with a guitar in his hand and played "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight" by Bob Dylan.  I hadn't even known that he could play or sing.

There were so many facets to Kevin that so many people never knew.  He didn't share himself easily with people.  He was smart, far smarter than anyone could imagine.  He had the best laugh, straight from the belly.  He was funny, when he actually laughed like that, he would cover his mouth and get this surprised look, like "Is that me?"

He often talked to me about obscure things, things he questioned.  Like love.  He said that he didn't understand what people meant when they said they "loved" someone.  He said that using the word just didn't make it real to him.  He asked the age old question-"What is love?"  I think, because of his illness and mine, that he did finally understand what love truly is.

He absolutely could not stand it when people said "I love you" as a good-by.  It drove him nuts.  That and using the word awesome to describe something miniscule.  He always liked Garth Brook's interpretation of what awesome was and yes, I think he would describe Shania Twain as awesome-especially if she had a note from me :)

Or the time he was in the outhouse (pre-plumbing days) and there was a bird that has a call that sounds like "birdie, birdie, birdie" and he finally yelled out "I know you're a goddamn birdie, shut up!"

The time he rescued a little blue bird from the cat, tossed it in the outhouse to keep it safe from Eb and the little bird promptly flew down the hole.  Guess what, he tilted the outhouse back and got that little blue bird out of the...well, you know.

See, I don't want to lose the little things. 

Then there are all those things I didn't do.  Things I didn't say or in my mind, say often enough.  Things I could have done differently or better.  

Grumpy old Swedish fart-face that he was.  I miss him and wonder sometimes, how I can get through without him.

I wander, looking, searching, wanting that connection again.  Wanting him to just come home to me.

Sadness, but not loneliness

I've had some time lately to reflect on all that has happened in the last few years.  I know that many say it all happens for a reason, and they're probably right.  What the reason is, most of the time, we don't know.  Would we want to? 

I don't think I appreciated my mom and dad enough, until the cancer came and they were there for me 100%. I always knew they would be there, but I guess none of us realize just how much family will sacrifice for you until it happens.

If I had not gotten cancer, would I have the true friends I do now? Would my best friends include Kevin's step-children? Some of Chalan's friends became our friends as well.  The changes that happened in my life, and Kevin's too, were a direct result of our illnesses.  Believe me, I am not grateful for our health problems, nor that of my parents, but I am grateful for the friends, family and the good changes that came into our lives because of them.  Though life seems so difficult for so many of us at times, if we look for the magic, it's there.

I miss Kevin terribly, each and every moment of the day but I am not lonely.  This cabin was so much ours, that I don't think I'll ever feel completely alone here.  There's too much of him, of him and me here.  I walk outside and see the three big rocks we rolled out of the woods-him laughing at me falling on my face when it finally took off downhill.  I look at the "trinkets" I have all over the porch and remember how he'd sigh, roll his eyes a bit and say "whatever makes you happy, sweetie pie".  The fairies, candles, witchballs, dragonfly ladies, the hickory woman and such, just fit here, and always have.  Just like we did, together.

I still have all of his things around me and probably will for quite some time.  I need the comfort of his essense right now and that's okay.  It's part of the grieving process.  I won't make this cabin a shrine to him, he would get hightly pissed off if I did that!  We had plans of things to do inside and outside, and I'll do my best to do them as I can.  Even though over time, the cabin will become different, it will essentially always be the same in many ways. It will always be mine and Kevin's home that we created together.  Nothing can change that.  As Bob Dylan's song The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest says, “It’s not a house . . . it’s a home”. 

Am I doing okay?  I think so.  But, we all know our perception of our behavior and what the world sees are often two different things.  I don't get lonely, like I said, and there are a lot of things that I want to do.  I have to admit, some days, I don't "do" anything.  I don't have to. If that is considered depression, I believe I differ in opinion.  I feel that, on days like that, I am subconsciously making a plan for the future, thinking, reasoning, etc.  I am not one to be put down for long.

Some days I feel very sad and almost disoriented.  You know, the something (or someone) is missing feeling?  Today is a sad day.  I'd like to just hide away in the woods away from the world, but I know I can't, nor is it healthy to do that.  So, I will leave these enchanted woods (as I always called them) and go out into the world as we know it.  But I'll be back, and be welcomed home.

I'll be just fine, I know that.

Remembering II

My best friend, lover and biggest champion died last week. Oh, we knew it was going to happen and that was a kind of gift in many ways, as odd as that seems to sound.

We had the time to talk, to plan, to cry. I remember Kevin telling me many times “I need you to stay close to me.” I did. Never a really demonstrative person, he became one. I often wondered if he was comforting me or himself, but it didn’t matter. The hugs, the kisses…they were so bittersweet and precious. He held me so tight as I cried a few months ago, my heart breaking...knowing what was coming. 

Kevin became somewhat romantic knowing the end of our life together was coming. He made sure he told me how much he loved me, how he respected me, was proud of me…oh so many things in the last months. One of his favorite songs that he had me play over and over again was by Lionel Richie, “Stuck On You” and listening to the words many times, I think he was trying to tell me how lucky he felt to have me in his life. Can you understand how my heart rejoiced and broke at the same time? I have attached a link here. Listen and you’ll understand.

Stuck On You

Kevin and I had a relationship based on respect, love and friendship. Oh, we had our times when we fought, just like anyone else. I was usually devastated when he was mad at me and would apologize first (even when I knew I was right). I just couldn’t take it when he was disappointed in me or upset with me. He always said that disappointing the people you supposedly care about, and that care about you, is the worse thing you can do to someone. He did always admit when he was wrong (which wasn’t often damn the stubborn Swede) and admitted mistakes that he made.

I’m sure there are many people in our lives that were disappointed and are upset that Kevin wouldn’t change to suit us. I have to admit, I am one. I know I am not alone…his son, his mom, friends…all of us. We wanted him to stay alive-he wanted his own life, his one way. One thing sticks with me, however. Kevin always journeyed on the “road less traveled” for most of his life. Why did we ever think he would trudge down some well worn path at the orders of someone else? His path was predestined from the beginning. And didn’t that non-compliancy attitude, that cockiness, make him exactly who he was? Would any of us have wanted to change him, the essence of what made Kevin…Kevin? I don’t think so.

Kevin could analyze people almost immediately and just simply know their nature. I can’t remember a time that he was wrong. It took years at times, but ultimately his perception of the person was right. Don’t think that wasn’t irritating at times…

All in all, Kevin was a wonderful person. He was kind, very giving, generous and yes, tough, opinionated, tempermental, brutally honest, and a real pain in the butt at times. We loved him because of that. Earning a smile, kudos or praise from Kevin Williamson was a big feather in anyone’s hat because he expected the absolute best from all of us.

Kevin always felt he had been born in the wrong century and I believe that he did live in another time when men were men, so to speak. He had great admiration for the mountain man, the first cowboys and the renegade. Being somewhat of an outlaw himself, he understood the need to go your own way, to break your own trail and live life to it’s fullest embracing and enjoying the adventure along the way.

Did he have regrets? A few. Don’t we all? He regretted hurting Sarah. He regretted friends he lost and the life he wasn’t going to have. He regretted the things we would never do together. The things he would never be able to do with Chalan.  He regretted the words he never said to his mother, his son, my son, his stepchildren and his friends.

And leaving us…yes, he regretted that the most.

He knew years ago, unconsciously that he would not live to be an old man. He always knew that. How, I don’t know. But he did.

A friend of mine told me that we are put on this earth for a preordained amount of time with certain tasks to fulfill before our time is up. Did he fulfill those tasks?

I think so. He taught so many of us to be stronger than we thought we could ever be, to push ourselves just a bit farther and to never ever give up yourself to someone else. “Don’t lose what makes you uniquely you” he used to tell me. He taught us to look within, to find the essence of ourselves and make it brighter so that we could shine.

He died listening to his favorites: Gordon Lightfoot ,Nat King Cole, Elton John, Cat Stevens, Bob Dylan and Chalan…always Chalan.. He taught Chalan to play guitar initially but always said Chalan took it to a higher level, one he himself didn’t achieve or need to. Once again, the “old man’s” wise words pushed, prodded and pissed many of us off enough to become what he always knew we could be and to be strong enough to go on without him and be who he knew we always were.

I had made him the promise that he would die in his cabin in the woods and he did. He could see the sky, hear the birds and hear the songs of his world, which wrapped around him and took him home.

I’m mighty glad I stayed.

Remembering

This is a photo of Doc and Kevin taken at Chautauqua Gorge in April 2000.  I have always loved this photo because it is Kevin at his best and you can see the love these two had for each other.  Doc was so proud carrying his own backpack, too.

I do have to say something though, hoping that whomever reads this takes note and thinks before they say or do this.  It isn't fair and is very sad when it happens.  It has happened to my dad and now to Kevin, too.

A friend of ours wife came to see Kevin a week ago or so and made the comment that she was upset with her husband because he didn't tell her how bad Kevin was.  Okay, that's understandable.  But, what she said next is not.  She said she wished she hadn't seen him because she wanted to remember him when he was well.

Excuse me!  Your memory suddenly  goes defunct all of a sudden because you see someone ill?  What this women in essence really is saying is that it hurts HER too much to see Kevin sick.  I don't really care about HER feelings.  By staying away from friends that are sick because YOU don't want to feel bad has got to be the most selfish, self serving thing I have ever heard or seen.  Isn't part of being a friend to be there even during the tough times?  I have heard the phrase :"fair weather friends" and it seems that many of Kevin's friends, and mine too, were or are that. 

Well people, the storms are raging so go home and cocoon in your little bubble of comfort.  We, on the other hand are facing the thunder and lightning and yes...raging back!