And so it begins. Life beyond paradise.
You have stumbled onto my first blog entry detailing the life of a 30-year old widow learning to live again after the passing of her soul mate, best friend and WORLD.
Warning: Proceed with caution; I am one bitter hot mess…
My name is Amy and I have NO idea who I am anymore. Everything I have known for the last 12 years has died and took half of me with it. Sounds like I belong in a large room standing in a circle with a bunch of other widows/widowers introducing myself. I can hear myself now… I’ve been incomplete – empty for 48 days straight now.
David was the most amazing man. He truly was. I know almost no one who would not agree.
I know very little about the days before me (1976 – 1997). He shared little about his childhood which always left me sad. He never wished to speak of it. What he did say always consisted of the same two people - a neighbor Ed and a babysitter Brenda. Two people he loved very much and cherished the love they showed him. Brenda passed several years before David, and out of respect for his uncle (a long and irrelevant story) he never tracked down his hunting buddy Ed (or the dog he loved). I only wish I had met these two people who left such an impact on my David.
Then there was me. Then there was US. Oh, God we were SO great. It was spring 1998. I was just 18 and he 21. Quirky chemistry from the get-go which grew to an unimaginable, passionate love. By late summer we had established a love no one and nothing could break. We were engaged Christmas 2002. We married September 18th, 2004. David fell ill just after his 30th birthday in 2006. This illness was puzzling and lead to 9 months worth of misdiagnoses. In July of 2007 we learned David’s illness would be something he could never recover from as he had an incurable, rare and aggressive cancer called sarcoma. Diagnosis: stage IV High Grade Pleomorphic Soft Tissue Sarcoma. Prognosis: 18 months. David lived 3 years. No, I cannot say (although I’d love to) that those years were glorious. They weren’t. He put up the most valiant fight. It was warrior like. Our amazing bond never broke. Not once. We were one hell of a team from the start and cancer NEVER changed that. It did however win in the end. March 12th, 2010. As the fog was lifting and the sun peaked through the clouds, at 8:15am that Friday morning David died and took half of me with him. Life as I knew it will never be the same.
So what now?
Well, with each morning I try and remind myself to set aside the fact I’m husbandless, childless and now poor thanks to sarcoma. That realization although completely factual leads to very horrible days. Those are days in which David would be very disappointed in me, and want me to be better – to feel better. I strive to live each moment honoring the wonderful man he was. I focus on the good in life; forget/ignore the things and the people that won’t change (God he excelled at that). I remind myself constantly how precious life is and to embrace and respect that fact. David’s life SUCKED. Each day was an enormous struggle but he always wanted tomorrow to come. No matter how bad it got, he wanted more surgery, more treatment, more doctors’ appointments, more hospital visits. Whatever it took. No matter how much better heaven had to offer him. He wanted earth. He wanted life. He wanted me.
So what now?
I eat, I drink, I cry, I work, I sleep, I FUNCTION. That is the best I can do right now. I FUNCTION. Learning who I am/who I want to be/where to go from here – this is tough. I lived in paradise and now this is feeling a lot like hell should. Convincing myself “paradise” is gone and it’s not coming back... That is the hardest part. David will be gone 7 weeks tomorrow. David and I were together 12 amazing years. Training your brain not think about picking up that phone or cc’ing him in an email in just 7 weeks is pretty damn hard. It is cruel, it is painful. It just plain SUCKS.
We will meet again. I will live out the remainder of my life reserving my seat next to him. For now, I will just go on with heaven envy remembering every wonderful memory I have to cherish. I am so blessed with so many amazing and priceless memories. I thank God (and David) every day for that.
Until next time,
Amy
David’s website detailing his illness: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/daviddearinger
