Every now and then this song comes on

and I take the time to let myself cry and breath

and cry and breath.

Gregory and I first heard this piece when

we were in Tuscany for the first time in 1999.

How Can I Go On

Freddie Mercury, Montserrat Caballé

When all the salt is taken from the sea,
I stand dethroned,
I'm naked and I bleed.
But when your finger no longer points the way,
Is anybody there to believe in me,
To hear my plea and take care of me?
How can I go on,
From day to day,
Who can make me strong in every way?
Where can I be safe,
Where can I belong,
In this great big world of sadness?
How can I forget

Those beautiful dreams that we shared.
They're lost and they're no where to be found.
How can I go on?
Sometimes I tremble in the dark.
I cannot see,
When people frighten me.
I try to hide myself so far from the crowd.
Is anybody there to comfort me?
Lord, take care of me.

Happy Valentine's Day: The Witness

Valentine's Day was spent with friends at brunch. The rest of the day I wrote, worked on the upcoming More Than Ever Education Fund that was founded by Gregory and me, had dinner, watched a few TV programs, then headed to bed.

For the most part I had gotten through Valentine's Day, with my love for and memories of Gregory to carry me. In the bedroom, I sat down on Gregory's side of the bed, which is nearest to Gregory's shelf on the bookcase, and began a conversation of love, of missing him, of being able to carrying on.

Slowly immense emotions of sorrow and tears overtook me. In grief, there is no timeline, no time frame, and I begin to believe that while it does get easier, it never gets over! So I let the emotions come and I cried and I sobbed and I keened.

A moment later, Gigi, one of my two cats (who is the cat Gregory picked out when we adopted,) came over to me and "petted" me; pushing against me with her head, standing on my lap and rubbing against my chest, and finally standing on her hind legs to lean in and lick my ear.

Her gesture of love made me feel better though I continued to cry, but a little more calmly. Next, Gigi moved over to the nightstand and stepped up with her front legs to Gregory's shelf, and rubbed her head against Grandma Carries's sewing box which contains Gregory's remains. She came back to me and lie down against my leg.

Next came Emma, the cat I chose. She is not as demonstrative but makes up for that in her enthusiasm. She also jumped up on the night table, stepped up onto Gregory's shelf and said hello to him with rubbing her head against Carrie's box, actually moving it a little in her enthusiasm.

By now, I was calm and thought, "Wow. The spirits are strong around here tonight." I wished Gregory a Happy Valentine's Day, told him I would eat later the candy I bought for him, and offered him a Good Night." I crawled under the down comforter, comforted by Gigi, Emma, and Gregory and switched off the lights.

Separation

There is a separation that takes place. The grief if still there but it is not at the forefront! You begin to realize YOU are YOU, and HE is HE and, WE are We even though WE now exists only in memories.

WE is what has changed. You grieve the WE, you miss the WE. You want to hug, kiss, hold, talk to, touch the WE; but that is no longer possible in a physical way.

So you invent ways to keep in touch. You set up an alter or shrine to him as a place where you can direct your conversations or you talk to him in your mind. You make decisions based on the way you used to make decisions together. You feel him with you in spiritual ways. You try to see the world through his eyes as well as through your own.

The world seems to be more magical because of this separation. Slowly you begin to question his death less, you appreciate your life more, you begin to appreciate the here and now, you do not wonder why Gregory and you had to walk the path of Dementia/ Alzheimers, you just did it because the path was presented and you BOTH loved each other so very much.

Gregory did not suffer from Dementia/ Alzheimer's, he lived well and we were able to compensate for the losses as they occurred. Most of the time he (we) did NOT suffer but rather lived and loved joyfully to our fullest.

The pain, the sorrow, and yes the suffering which was present at times, no longer exist now and in many ways, the separation of the WE into the ME and HE, makes the pain of his death more tolerable when compared to our being in the middle of the Dementia/ Alzheimer's path, with no idea what direction it might take or where and when it might end.

Slowly you let the memories return, you allow yourself to go through the photographs of your times together in the past and you can be joyful at the times you had, not sad at what no longer is possible. The difficulties, shackles, pain, confusion, frustration, fear, anger, and general craziness of dealing with Dementia/ Alzheimer's has disappeared, and that feels good. Gregory has physically also disappeared and at times that does not feel good.

You are happy and living life to its fullest, day at a time. Keeping happy, busy, productive. Taking care of yourself, your body, your mind. You love the condo, your new car, just about every thing about the way you live your life. You feel good about family and friends. You feel good about being kind and compassionate and giving to others when you can.

I assume he is happy, wherever he may be, no¡ longer dealing with the tribulations of Dementia/ Alzheimer's. Perhaps in a dimension that allows him to further develop his enlightenment, learn lessons still waiting, keep tabs on you, watch over you, protect you when possible. He no longer has wants, needs, desires, oughts, shoulds; or at least it would seem so.

It is the WE that suffers. I love the ME in the condo. I miss the WE in the condo. I love the ME who attends the opera. I miss the WE that used to attend the opera together. I look forward to travel. I am sad that it will not be WE that are traveling. I find that when I am feeling sad, I have begun to be able to separate the ME from the HE and I do not always need the WE to feel good.

I am able to separate the situation into ME, HE, and WE. For example, for the first time ever I saw Nabucco at the Lyric Opera. I enjoyed Verde's music, the beautiful set and costumes, the glorious voices, the story line. In some way I felt that Gregory, possibly through me, was able to enjoy those things as well and perhaps they pale when compared to the beauty of his present existence.

In this separation, I do not allow or even need to succumb to sadness that WE are not experiencing this together. Not having the WE, should not diminish or take away from my life even though I have to do it with Gregory only being there in Spirit.

Last night at bedtime I was feeling very sad and missing Gregory. The tears automatically started rolling, I gave into the emotions, and started howling (keening.) 

Gigi, is the kitty that Gregory picked out while mine is Emma.) Gigi has turned into my best friend while Emma just likes to get pet! Gigi is the thoughtful, taller, leaner one (just like Gregory) while Emma is the more impulsive, shorter, fatter one (just like me!)

Gigi came over to where I was sitting on the side of the bed and rubbed my leg with a "meow." She hopped up onto the bed, stood up onto my chest, and began licking my ear.

I really believe that she came over to console me and it worked. I hugged her and felt better. Gigi and I talked about life for a while, I went into the bathroom to wash my face with a hot cloth, and then I turned in for a good night sleep.

I continue to experience the "clock miracles" but will not necessarily write about them individually. Last night Gregory was really in high gear: I went to sleep at 10:10, woke at 11:11, again at 1:23, then 3:57, at 5:55, and finally at 9:10. A lot of lovely "winks and nods."

Gigi in the den watching TV

Mariah

In the car today I mentioned to Gregory, "I miss my kitty soooooo much."
He replied, "Me too."
I commented, "Guess this Christmas, when we are opening our presents, we will just have to take turns chasing the crumpled wrapping paper around the living room!"

We both got tickled and had a good laugh.

Christmas

Tonight I had my Christmas cry. I didn't expect it, although it arrives every year as we are unpacking our Christmas decorations. We were having dinner, Christmas music was playing in the background, some of the decorations were in place, and up crept the tears. It is an overwhelming type of cry, a world weary sad cry as weak as a life is wonderful joyful cry. It is a cry that misses my dead parents, in-laws, friends, pets. It is a cry that mourns my youth and probably is a cry of fear of the future. I work hard at not letting it overwhelm but I acknowledge it and give it some reign. Now I can move on to enjoy our holiday, our families, our friends, each other. Merry Christmas!

Mom

As you know, my mother died in March 2010. The first year after the death of a loved one is always difficult being the first spring without, the first Christmas without, the first birthday without, etc.

Most of the time I can carry her memory with me, letting her disappear into the background as I go about my daily routine. Sometimes, for no specific reason, she comes to the front of my memory. I find that I am suddenly, strongly thinking about her and feeling sad. Missing her.

Yesterday when Mom "arrived," I decided that it was her way of saying, "Hello." And that should cheer me up, not make me sad. So I have resolved that when my mom is strong in my thoughts, that means she is with me, watching me, sharing with me the moment's joy. She is greeting me, acknowledging me, loving me. Saying HELLO to me. And is she is with me, how can I be sad?