My husband died
Anthony Giordani
comfort. My husband died Feb. 1st at age 43 - I'm falling apart.
Everyone is telling me it takes time but each day is worse. It started
on Dec. 15th. My husband, Tony, who was in perfect health came home
from work that evening saying that his vision was so blurred he hardly
was able to drive home. We made an appointment with an eye doctor for
the next morning. On Dec. 16th, he left home at 9am for the doctor and
I went to work. At 12noon Tony called me, crying and apologizing. He
said the doctor saw a tumor on his optic nerve and wanted him to go to
the emergency room for an MRI. I walked off my job to take him. Two
hours later the doctor gave me the devasting blow - my husband had a
glioblastoma brain tumor. She said the outlook was bleek. Tony was
rushed to a neurologocial center to meet with a brain surgeon. Two
days later the bioposy surgery was performed. The surgeon would not
answer our questions directly - he wanted to go in and remove the tumor.
I rushed Tony to a specialist in Arizona for a second opinion. It to
was bleek. A maglinant glioblastoma brain tumor that doubles its size
every ten days. They could operate, but because it was already twice
the size of an inoperable tumor he would not have survived the surgery.
I took my husband home to die. He wanted to die at home with me and our
dogs, in familiar surroundings. Each day I lost a little more of him
as the tumor moved through his brain. I watched as this perfectly
healthy 43 year old man that I loved so deeply slowing being eaten away
by this monster in his head. I felt so helpless - there was nothing I
could do to save his life, all I could do was make his final days as
comfortable as I could. The last two days of his life were horrible - I
have never experienced death before nor ever watched anyone die. It was
violent, and he fought death every step of the way. The chaplan told me
that I had to tell Tony to go - he said Tony was holding on because of
me. So I held Tony and told him it was ok to go, that I would be ok,
that God was waiting for him and to go to the light. Tears ran down
Tony's face, then he drew his last breath.
After, I cleansed his body with warm water and lavender soap, dressed
him. His family members came to say goodbye. Two hours later the
coroner took him out of our bedroom.
Now, my mind will not release these pictures of those final moments, I
cannot sleep or eat, I cry all the time. I miss him so deeply. I am
beating myself up with the possibility that there may have been
something else I could have done to save his life, perhaps somewhere
there was someone who could have saved him. The night before he died
Tony asked me to take him for treatments - but there were no treatments.
He asked if I did all I could do. I cried as I told him yes.
Where do I start the healing? I don't know how to begin. I went to a
grief counselor last week and all she could tell me was that it takes
time. She told me to get up in the morning, get dressed, and join a
gym. Join a gym? I am in so much pain that I am searching for one good
reason to go on, and she tells me to join a gym.
I've been angry at God, asking why this happened. I went to the
catholic church and the Father told me God had a reason for taking
Tony, and that as the years unfolded His reasons would be revealed to
me. This made me more angry - I cannot find one good reason!
I went to a widow support group. Twelve other women, all over 70 years
old and all very loving well intentioned people. But all they could
tell me was that I am young and I can find someone new and start over.
I don't want to find someone new - I love my husband so deeply. How
can this story have a happy ending?
Debbie Giordani
Daisy
I'm so sorry you lost your husband. Life isn't fair, people say things that
don't make any sense. You do what you need to do in order to go on, day by
day, that's all we can do....posting here helps as well. Get a journal
Debbie, write to your husband, tell him what you are feeling, those are your
thoughts so don't be afraid to express them. When my son died I kept a
journal and I still do, it helps to know I can tell him of what happens
everyday and somehow I believe he can read it. Take care (((hugs)))
Daisy
Mom to Buster
Anthony Giordani wrote in message
<4290-36D...@newsd-103.iap.bryant.webtv.net>...
Ben Nickel
It is going to be 5 years in May since my precious Lee died - diagnosed with lung cancer on April 28th and dead on May 17th at the age of 51 - and sometimes it seems that the horror will never fade. But somewhere during that first year in some kind of a foggy hell, I read the following and began to realize how fortunate I was to have known a love so deep that nothing else could cause this kind of pain.
It is from a little booklet by Dietrich von Hildebrand titled "Jaws of Death: Gate of Heaven"
"To be sure, the phenomenon of death is always present to us whenever anyone we know dies, ....
"I encounter the phenomenon of death in a complete, existential way only in the death of someone I love deeply, someone I love in an ultimate way, someone precious beyond all other humans.
"To understand better the death of such a beloved human, let us first meditate on my love for such a person. Let us start with the blissful fullness of existence I experience in my loving contact with this individual human, loved above all others.
"There is here the unprecedented gift of a person who most deeply corresponds to the yearnings of my heart, a person who loves me, who returns love for love. I meditate now on the total reality possessed by this beloved person - how emphatically she is here, in the center of my life - how much the full reality of her existence is with me.
"And then she dies.
"Her eyes are closed, motionless. She has ceased to speak. Communication with her has become completely impossible. She cannot hear my voice, nor can I gaze into her eyes or strain to hear her voice. Her body is cold. The very hands that once responded to my touch are lifeless. Her body is then committed to the earth, and I am surrounded by a dreadful emptiness, and unspeakable desolation. I bid a tearful, tragic farewell to the one who was the joy of my heart, the sunshine of my existence.
"I am faced with the end of the temporal life of the one who was the greatest source of my earthly happiness, the supreme treasure of my heart. She is dead, but everything else goes on as usual. Things which in comparison to her are quite valueless continue in existence: the clothes she once wore, the empty bed, the traffic in the street outside, the weather, the practical things of everyday life! All these have survived, but she is dead!
"How absurd it all seems. How fearful and dreadful is death that it should suddenly leave empty the place once filled by the person I loved most in all the world. How unbearbable that I must now say "she was" instead of "she is"!
"... awareness of immortality does not remove the dread of death, does not neutralize its sting. The frightfulness of separation remains; an empty loneliness gapes at me. The body and soul of my beloved had been presented to me united in a single living form. I have been face to face with my beloved, have gazed upon her countenance. I have recognized her, I have read from her face expressions of joy and love, and sometimes of sorrow and concern. She has been for me a single image, a blissful unity.
"Someone who has never known an ultimate love in this life, who has never given his heart to another human who has loved him in return, knows nothing of the fundamental horror with which the death of a beloved person surrounds us.
And so Debbie, I am with you in your pain and thinking
of you and praying for you as you can be sure are also the warm hearts
and hearty (((((((HUGS)))))) of Jen, Anne, Jo, Roberta, Mary Jane and all
the others who know your pain.
Ben
SCarey611
Tears are running down my face as I write this letter to you.
I am so sorry for your loss.
I am so glad you found this board...it will help you...this I promise.
We are all here to listen...just keep typing!
Susan
Lisearama
I understand your anger at God and your grief counselor and the women in the
support group. I am 24. My 26 year old husband died three months ago tonight.
I miss him desperately. It gets a little bit easier to face life without him,
but time alone does not heal. I agree with the suggestion to keep a journal.
Don't worry about penmanship, puncutation or spelling...just get it out on
paper. This has been a tremendous source of release for me. Please remember
that it is OKAY to be angry. Everything you feel during this process is
normal. Seek support from those around you, and be gentle with yourself.
Please feel free to write to me, if you need to talk.
Lise
LAB2401
I am so sorry to see that you have to search out a group like this, but
I am glad you made your way to ASG. They were a lifesaver for me
when I stumbled across them 1 1/2 years ago. My name is Lynda,
and I don't post often any longer, but I continue to read daily. Your
post struck a nerve in me and I feel impelled to write to you. I am
now 3 1/2 years on this road, and honestly it does get easier to bear,
although never truly easy. I still miss Bob with every breath, my first
and last thought are of him. My dreams are filled with his presence. I
continue to Love him with all of my heart. But, I am healing somehow.
I am finding joy in living again, I am able to concentrate better, can
even read a book a little. I remember him and our life with a smile now,
not just the heartache. It doesn't happen overnight Debbie. Each one
of us move to this dance at our own pace. Two steps side, one back,
one forward, three back...and on and on. There is no easy recipe, no
easy solutions. You have received some very good advice, keep a
journal, keep coming to ASG and write to us about you and your
other half, Tony. Get it out, the hurt, anger, sadness, the good times
and the bad. Almost everyone here has been there or is there and will
understand more than you can imagine. Take good care dear heart,
you are fragile right now.
Blessings,
Lynda
Bob's other half 5/8/48~8/3/95
<<Debbie wrote with great sadness:
Bob's other half 5/8/48~8/3/95
If sweetness were a flower, and you were mine to hold,
I'd touch you warm and gently, and treasure you as Gold.
....verse from a poem written by my husband, Bob
send email? remove 'bobsgal' from address
merry...@webtv.net
fast. You know there was no treatment available and when he asked you,
it was because he did not want to leave you. When you told him it was ok
to let go, he cried not wanting to, but knowing it was ok. That was a
great gift to give to him, when you didn't really want to let him go.
That inself is a difficult painful memory.
My husband of 26 years died on Jan. 28, 1999. He died of a massive
heart attack in my arms. He was 59 and I am 51. He had had 2 strokes
at age 55 and I was his caregiver. I knew his years were limited as his
arteries were completly blocked and could not do a balloon or surgery.
I know how tough it is to check every morning to see if he was still
breathing.
I like you feel the pain and depression are getting worse instead of
better. I am angry at the matters that have to be attended to when I
am trying to find my own will to go on.
I do not feel resentment or wish him back to a life of pain. I know he
is far better off that me right now. I called my doctor that I wanted
to see a conselor and she told me to wait 6 months, and it I needed one
then, she would send me to one. So what do I do for 6 months? Not join
a gym either! What I hear from everyone is that it takes time.
Joining a gym is not feeling the grief right now. If you don't allow
yourself to feel it, you can not move on. I refuse to join a group that
has no direction in moving on. But I am not ready yet. I dwelled on
the night of the death, in my arms, but changed my focus to the good
times. The laughter and love he brought to all. That is my first step.
I am praying for you. Feel free to write me, as our husbands died about
the same times.
Mary ann
Jobaw
I am so sorry about your husband. Being with one you love up until the very
end is sooooo very hard. I did it with my cousin.The last week of her life,
she was in so much pain and we kept her as sedated as humanly possible. Even
so, up until the last 4 days, she insisted on sleeping sitting up in her chair.
The bottom two thirds of her body were swollen to triple their normal size and
it took me, my sister and my aunt to help Cousin up and down. Aunt was in total
denial that Cousin would die and insisted too that Cousin be allowed to do
whatever. I was in constant fear that Cousin was going to fall and injure
herself. Finally, home health came and read us the riot act. She made my
cousin get into bed and said she wasn't to be up for ANYTHING. Cousin was
violent also, she was delirious and yelled out unintelligible things in a kind
of loud growl, grunt. It was horrifying and terrifying and heartbreaking. My
sis and I would go to my cousin when Aunt wasn't around and whisper to her to
go to the light. We'd kiss her and tell her how much we loved her and that
everything would be okay and that we would take care of Aunt. Aunt refused to
ever "release" cousin. I was responsible for administering all Cousin's IV
medications and this too was so scary. I didn't want her to suffer but I also
was fearful of overdosing her. God, you tread a very thin line. I really
understand how hard the last days are. As for your grief; I think the grief
counselor was very off base with her "gym" suggestion. As Roberta has said so
many times: "The only thing you must concentrate on doing is 'breathing'.
Time just keeps going on even though we feel it should stop. Don't force
yourself to do anything that you don't need to do. And most important, allow
yourself to grieve.....don't bury it (I did and it erupted later very
strongly). I too went to a bereavement group and also asked Dr. for help. Dr
offered antidepressants {no good, caused migraines). Bereavement group was
okay but nothing could compare to the help and comfort and strength I found by
coming here. This is the best group of people. You can come and vent, cry,
scream, curse, spit or whatever. You can tell everyone how mad you are at God
and everyone else. You can do anything and no one here is going to judge you.
The only thing you'll find here is empathy and beautiful friends. You asked
"Where or when do I start the healing"? You have already started the healing
whether it feels like it or not. The pain will probably never leave but it
gets a little less each day. Please come back and tell us more about Tony (if
you want to). Tell us whatever you want to about anything....someone is nearly
always here, day & night. I again want to say I'm sorry. ((((((HUGS))))))))
Jo
Nancy Lundholm
loving, caring, supportive wife. Your husband was pleased with your
unconditional love in his last months. You have provided comfort,
friendship, and emotional support to your husband. I truly admire your
strength. Please allow yourself to grieve. That is healthy and it's a
part of healing. People can be crule at times because they did not
experience what you have gone through. If you feel like crying, go
ahead and cry. Your loss is genuine. Be nurse to yourself. You need
time to heal also. Allow family and friends to call on you. Support is
so important. I will pray for you. You have been very strong and I
admire you. You have done all the right things.
AnJoMi
him all the time. I am 52 and feel far too young to be a widow. I have made a
ton of mistakes since he died such as selling family property. Don't do
anything major for a year is my advice. It is terrible to lose a husband when
you are young and had so much to look forward to together. The heart ache is
terrible. Things do clear a little after time, but I still miss my husband
terribly. It seems very unfair to me that we have to go through this. I offer
you my heartfelt sympathy.christine Smigel.
KCMKIK
I am a little older (52) than you but also have difficulty relating to
older women who have lost their husbands. How I hate that word - widow! I don't
feel like a widow, I'm still his wife but I'm now a wife without my husband
here - somehow as inane as that sounds it makes a difference to me.
I found a website that deals with Young Widows and Widowers.
Unfortunately, they are based in the Boston area and I am not. I e-mailed them
at Webm...@YWW.org. So if you happen to be from that area, that might help
and if not they may be able to point you in the right direction.
I found widownet (there is that word again) to be a GREAT help. If has
been VERY consoling for me to read postings on the message board of others just
like us - many young - who are exactly where we are. At one point, I felt no
one else could possibly share the feelings I have. But I have learned through
reading at this site that my feelings are fairly universal. Somehow knowing
others are also experiencing such awful despair is reassuring - at least I know
I'm not going crazy. Some specific posts have provided some helpful ideas and
direction. This resource can be located at
http://www.fortnet.org/WidowNet/index.html
Watch out for some of the chat rooms, ie. AOL chat rooms. Naively, I
entered this major server's chat room that was supposedly dedicated for widows
and widowers. The chat room experience provided nothing and afterwards my
e-mail box filled with porn from perverts lurking around the chat room for new
e-mail address
I have also read a good deal about grief and that seems to help some.I
also attended a 4 week Grief Seminar at a friend's church.
Between widowne, the seminart and reading, I have developed whatever
perspective I now have. Your loss is so new and your feelings and responses
seem quite normal. I sure can relate. Sorry you too have to go through this.
I'm not sure anyone has any magic bullets. I was told that the three best ways
to relieve stress from loss (or stress period) are:
1) talking about it
2) crying
3) exercising (maybe that is where the grief counselor is coming from. However,
you may not be ready for that now or it may never be right for you).
I have tried to do what feels right to me. I refuse to be real hard on myself.
Life and others often do a good enough job of that. Finding any meaning, new
joy and all those major tasks are far too much for me right now. I try to take
some satisfaction in just making it through yet another day and in anything
positive that I do. It sounds empty and sick compared with my former life but I
am trying desperately not to compare any more. My former life is gone with Karl
and I can not do anything about that. Hopefully some day it will be the source
of wonderful memories. If I try to figure things out now, I just make myself
miserable. Muddling through is about the best I can do. I guess I have accepted
that for now.
I can relate some to your medical situation. My husband died of prostate
cancer 1/3/99. He lived 18 months after diagnosis so we had more time and we
did pursue every medical option I could find. So I take some comfort in that.
However, he was terminal at diagnosis and we were not able to significantly
change that prognosis. Karl too chose to be cared for at home and I too
helplessly watched my husband slowly be consumed by brain mets and die a
horrendous death. I have been able to find some peace from knowing how much I
loved him and how much I did in caring for him. Realistically, it sounds like
you also lovingly did everything you could have done. One of the best pieces of
advice that I received was do not go to the "coulda, shoulda, woulda" type
thoughts. I know that is hard.
I hope you can find some peace.
Michele Buchanan
he meant everything to me. Since then, I've had a falling out with my
motherwho never approved of my relationship. I got involved with a
young man who was caring, but couldn't deal with my neediness. When I
called him, trying to prevent myself from commiting suicide (it was
Chistmas time, and my anniversary was coming up), he dumped me. My
father didn't even bother showing up at the funeral. A few of my
friends have been great, but I've lost hope in the future. I just want
to see my husband again.
This weekend would have been his birthday. I don't think that I'll make
it. I've already decided to make dinner for myself, and then, well.
And yet I know that this is wrong. Please help me. I have nowhere to
turn.
KMBW106
10. It's a month today and I'm so terribly distraught and I have never
experienced anything related to the pain I have now. I have an idea time does
not heal. I have an idea I will never get over this. The only thing time will
do is help us adjust to our lives without our husbands. Sometimes I wished I
would have some sort of physical pain, such as a sore arm or leg, just so I
won't feel so much emotional pain. I have no desire to go to counseling
because a counselor has no idea how I feel. There is no generic way to deal
with this pain. We each have to deal with it differently. I miss my husband
so much and everyone else misses him too. It's as though he's been wiped away
so quickly and I still can't believe he's gone. I know how you feel and I know
you lnow how I feel, too. My belief in Christ and God has helped me a lot yet
the pain is still so unbearable at times.
Anthony Giordani
I can't go on. My faith tells me that I must, as difficult as it will
be. It has been just over month since my husband died. I have been in
so much pain as you have been all this time. I have had problems with
the family as well. The biggest is that they all think I should be
jumping back into life. I have received such wonderful and caring
letters from people on this site, and they have helped in so many ways.
Sometimes just being able to ramble on is so much help. I did start a
journal, and each night I write to my husband. I tell him what I'm
feeling, what has been happening, and I ask him questions. I have been
so angry,and not even sure at who. It did help to beat up my pilllow
and scream at the world. Please hang in here with us, we need you.
Please share any feelings you have at any time,
God Bless you,
Debbie
Michael R. Daymude, Esq.
through. I lost my lover almost eight months ago. He hung himself in our
garden. Since then, life has been one big nightmare for me. I too nearly
took my life just before Christmas. I was so depressed, my life seemed
to be falling apart all around me, and I didn't see any other way out of
my pain.
However, I didn't have the mechanism down right and it was a good thing.
For the very next day was a brighter day for me and since then things
have slowly, slowly gotten a little better and I no longer feel so
lonely and desperate. I am even looking forward to some things now.
Amazing to me as I still miss my Manuel more than I ever thought
possible.
If you give yourself time, things will work out OK for you. Try and do
it. I have found that visiting here and sharing my feelings has been
very important. It has, literally, kept me alive. I have found it even
more beneficial than a real life support group primarily because it is
available whenever I need it. If you have no other form of support or if
it is not enough, please visit here as often as you need to and share
your feelings.
I know how difficult it is to think about going on when all that you've
ever wanted has been lost forever. It does get easier and slowly you
will feel better. Please give yourself more time to work through your
emotions. You will get a lot of support here and you won't be dumped
because you're so needful. We have all been there. -- Michael
Aheim
My thoughts and prayers are with you at this time. No words can express how
you feel but I have similar feelings as yours. I lost my husband of 31 years
on August 21, 1998 of a massive heart attack during the night. I never got to
say goodbye to him. I am 52 and feel pain, anger, frustration, and every
emotion you feel. I started counseling the beginning of September and go twice
a week - it has helped me deal with grief and bereavement and many other things
I am going through right now. What I have learned so far is to do what makes
me feel good - there is no right and wrong, no good and bad. I also write in a
journal every night and read devotionals/Bible every day. I find that helps. I
also have memorialized Bill - did the Boston Diabetes Walk, donated in his
memory to the church I go to, send him balloons for Christmas and Valentine's -
things like that. I have also written him in heaven at groww.org and then
click on "email to heaven". I cannot begin to tell you how dark my days and
nights have been without Bill - I cry a lot and I am careful about the people I
am with. Please feel free to write me anytime if I can be of any help to you -
oh, yes, like everyone else says I guess time will help - I think time will
help us adjust without our husbands. No one could ever replace Bill; he, like
your husband, was a special person. Love to you, Debbie, Anne
Martin Bunis
that way now after havng read your posting. All I can say is that it is
best, I think, to just allow yourself to feel however you do at the
moment. No need to explain those feelings to others or even to
yourself. Anger, bitterness toward G-d & people who don't seem to
understand or want to understand-it's all part of this most painful of
life's experiences. I think talking to this group can be a great help to
you. So stay in touch and we'll try to help. Martin
~Roberta~
I can hear the pain you are enduring in the words that you wrote. I am
so very very sorry. {{{{{{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}}
How sad for you that you feel you are having to carry this dreadful burden
of grief all by yourself.
I can tell that you were so very close to your beloved partner. Can you
tell us a bit more about him? Had you been together a long time? What was
his name? Please write and tell us...... we are here to listen and to try
and comfort you. We know what you are going through Michele, because we are
all travelling down the same hard road. If there is one place you can come
to where you know you will be understood and listened to with an open heart,
it is this group.
Michele, please write again...... you will find it will help you like it
has helped so many others who post here. You are not alone...... we are
here and we care.
If you want you can email me privately, anytime. In the meantime I send
you lots of love and a big {{{{{{{{HUG}}}}}}}
~Roberta~ (Michael's mum 1st Jan.67 to 6th Nov.97)
Michele Buchanan wrote in message <36E5C021...@mcsp.com>...
:My common-law husband died nine months ago. He was my best friend, and
:he meant everything to me. Since then, I've had a falling out with my
:motherwho never approved of my relationship. I got involved with a
:young man who was caring, but couldn't deal with my neediness. When I
:called him, trying to prevent myself from commiting suicide (it was
:Chistmas time, and my anniversary was coming up), he dumped me. My
:father didn't even bother showing up at the funeral. A few of my
:friends have been great, but I've lost hope in the future. I just want
:to see my husband again.
DBK1962
I have great compassion & understanding for what you are experiencing. The
sadness & grief is equal in measure to the love & happiness you shared with
your husband.
I watched helpless as my wife died close to three years ago this spring
fighting cancer. A perfectly healthy young beautiful woman ravaged over a years
time by cancer. I have been continually challenged by what more I could have
done for her (for us)...... ......conventional treatments, alternative
medicines, prayer. I would lay my hands on her at night while she was asleep
praying somehow for answers, attempting to take on & shoulder her burden. The
last two weeks of her life challenged my faith, my resolve, my ability to cope
with life. She struggled so and was in such incredible pain. I could not
imagine for what purpose or reason she was being allowed to suffer through such
agony.
But a great comfort came over me in the days just before she died. I came to
realize that her struggle, her willingness to endure such great hardship & pain
was out of the love she held for her family. For her husband and 2 year old
twin sons. I have never felt such love in my life time. It is that
understanding that has brought me through the aloneness these past few years.
And the realization that she was not given the time to experience & share in
the life of her sons, but I have been given the time & must make the most of
it. For the boys, for myself, and for her.
In time you will gain resolve and an insight unique to the understanding &
love that you shared with you husband. Grief is a process that is different for
each of us....the depth of your emotion, love & steadfastness to your husband
while painful at this time is an indication of great strength & character. Know
the sun & moon are still shinning when you are ready to once again look to the
horizon.
Peace Doug
Gianni
It has already been a while that I wrote in asg, but your message
brought my feelings back to October 98. I lost my wife too, due to the
same tumor type.
My wife had the luck (?) that they could remove the tumor completely.
(dec. 97) But as you know, this tumor is so malignant. Even with a
complete resection, they gave her a prognosis of a year. But there a
few survivors, so we did every thing what was available. She followed
radiation and a chemotherapy course.
She was feeling well until 9 Oct. She changed from a strong woman to a
plant. On Oct. 20, she had her fatal seizure and she was braindead.
I can only say that you did everything what you could for your husband
... Please don't feel guitly ...
Take care,
Gianni
Husband of Chantal (14 Dec. 67 - 21 Oct. 98)
Michele Buchanan
years. He was tall and gentle, and had the world's goofiest smile. He
was a selftaught lighting and computer geek, the owner of an incredibly
dry sense of humor, and the world's hairiest man, so long as you didn't
look at his head.
During the 60s Len did research in social psychology. He dropped out
during the Summer of Love and never went back. He was a native New
Yorker, a Bronx boy, a pink diaper baby. He was the apple of his
mother's eye.
Len made lightsculptures that got written up in art journals a few times
and he had shows in Geneva and Toronto. He reconfigured the strobe
light for theatrical and practical use. He worked on the lighting for
the original Ice Palace on Fire Island. He went to one of Andy Warhol's
Factory parties, gave money for a film called Word is out, worked on a
disco movie called Thank God Its Friday.
He went into the auction business and eventually got involved with
computers. He threw a lot of parties and had a lot of girlfriends, most
of whom turned up at his birthday dinners long after he had stopped
dating him. He liked funny smart women with degrees and a good sense of
humor, and they liked him.
When I met him, I was 29, a teacher, and totally uninterested in falling
in love with anyone. Four months later I was living with him and madly
in love. I went to grad school a year later, and he paid for most of
it, with the promise that I'd pay him back.
I cleaned the house, made the meals, fussed over him when he had a cold.
When I got annoyed I'd threaten to leave, and then I'd look into his
eyes and my heart would turn to butter.
Len had a mole on the back of his left shoulder and another under his
left arm. When he died I spent a whole night obsessively telling a
friend about every scar and mark on Len's body so that I would never
forget what he looked like.
Len made my mother a gingerbread house every Christmas for 5 years
running, but she could never forgive him for stealing her daughter, or
for being a Jew. She wanted me to marry a nice black lawyer, not
bohemian atheist. It was at that point that I realized the atheist was
the better bet in the long term. I still think I was right.
Len and I once counted how many different cuisines we had tied
together. We lost count at 24. We loved downtown theatre, going to the
Berkshires, flea markets, and r&b. He liked anchovies on his pizza,
obscure 60s folk groups, and telling me stories about the good old days
when the earth was young and the drugs were plentiful. He could look
like a banker but he had the soul of a hippie. He only disappointed me
once: when we went to Tahiti, we didn't run into anyone he knew.
Not too many women get to live with a guy who was at Abbie Hoffman's
Central Park wedding. Not too many women have a partner who turned down
doing the lighting at Woodstock because he was afraid to get paid.
Living with Len, I went from being an uptight school teacher with a
slight drinking problem to a clean-living intellectual honey who dressed
in black every day, even during the summer. I loved him with all my
heart, and if he had told me to walk across broken glass I would have
done it for his sake. I loved him and worshipped him and I looked
forward to the day when we'd be on some college campus, me teaching
Urban Anthropology and him hanging out in some coffee shop telling the
undergrads about what Nixon was really like.
We had a committment ceremony two years ago becaues we didn't feel
comfortable inviting our gay friends to a wedding when they couldn't get
married themselves. After grad school, I wanted to get married in Vegas
by an Elvis impersonator, While wearing a leopardskin dress. I told Len
that when he got old I'd take care of him, that I wanted to repay what
he'd given me, financially and spiritually.
When Len died I had friends who felt sorry for me because I'd never been
officially married. They saw our ceremony as a consolation prize. It
wasn't. I had a ball, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. I had more
fun and more love in 8 years than all the people I know have had in a
lifetime. Len was everything I could have wanted: an intelligent, funny,
unconventional man who never knew what his limits were, and who kept his
deep curiosity and wonder for life long after most men have been ground
down by work or breadwinning. He lived life on his own terms and set an
example for a lot of our friends regardless of their personal beliefs.
Len was an atheist who packed sandwiches in black churches during the
60s, a socialists who gave long-term charity to a list of people as long
as my arm, a mensch with an artist's heart. He taught me how to make
latkes, how to live creatively, how to develop a yiddishe kop. He was a
feminist to the bone, a loyal friend, and he could make some great
barbeque chicken. He was my color-blind, hairy-bodied, goofy-looking,
ex-drug-taking, balding-haired Jewish prince, and I'll love him 'til the
day I die. Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.
Michele
Jobaw
Gosh, Len sounds wonderful. You have been so blessed in your life. I think
you got to have what everyone would like to have at least once in their lives
and that was TRUE LOVE. No wonder you hurt so and miss him so. All those
memories are so precious and to be cherished and I feel honored that you would
share them. People like Len are rare jewels. I'm so sorry for your pain. My
heart aches for you. Be kind to the inner you and wrap "her" in warm hugs and
gentle feelings as much as possible. Come here often cause we will
{{{{{{{HUG}}}}}}} and comfort as best we can. Thank you again for sharing with
us.
(((((((HUGS))))))) Jo
TGZACLARKE
My name is Grace and I was searching the web to write a paper to school ( I
am a master's student at Trinity Evangilical University) and I was sooo sad to
read your letter it made me cry . I am so sorry for the loss of your husband,
it must be very hard specially to be alone in this kind of crisis. Michele,
what disturbed me the most is that you mentioned suicide! Come on Michele, you
know this is not the right answer! From your words you seem so pure like a
clear running waters, and I can tell even through your sadness that you have in
you the gentellness of the breeze, We realy need people like you to live with
us, and yes I know you have some mistakes, like all of us. Michele your letter
was short and so sad, please give me a chance to talk with you. Write me and I
will answer the day I get your E mail. Let us not do anything stupid ( like
suicide) but let us talk. O.K. ? yours SINCERELY Grace. E. mail me back
please TGZAc...@aol.com Love you!
jeri landon
Michele Buchanan
up some videos and while I was out I had an asthma attack. At first I
didn't recognize it for what it was--I usually become very tense and
nervous durig the early stages of an attack, and then hyperventilation
sets in. This time I just felt puzzled and short of breath; later I
felt dizzy.
When I got home I lay down. I felt my strength ebbing away, and as my
breaths becameshallower I became calmer. The only reason I ended up
using the inhalator was because a friend called me and I told her hat
happened.
I didn't feel frightened, not much any way. Just for a moment. I could
only think, so this is hwat death is like. It was like being wrapped in
a blanket.I almost fell asleep. Somehow I knew, very dimly, that if I
fell asleep I wouldn't wake up. When my phone rang it was like, yeah, I
guess I want to stay alive. I got up and took a bath (first one in over
a week), took a hit from the inhalator, and lay back down. My chest
began to open up and I was grateful that if I had to call an ambulance,
at least i wouldn't smell.
The presence of death was like a creature with raven-black wings,
glossy, beautiful, and cold. The reason I didn't sink in is because I
don't think I'm ready yet. Also, I kept calling out a name of a friend
of mine, and I realized he might be devastated by my dying like this.
It was lonely and yet not hwat I thought it would be like. What a
strange present on Len's birthday.