Welcome June...

6/6/2010



Happy Sunday evening to everyone. I hope this has been a nice weekend.





So what has been going on in the world of the newly widowed??? Isn’t that always the question? Well – the more popular question is “How are you doing?” Answer - I'm alive... And it’s a blessing. My amazing husband taught me that.



Starting off with Memorial Day weekend seems appropriate. It was a BLAST! I cannot thank Jeremy, Kristi, all the Arrasmiths, and their generous friends enough. It was by far my best weekend since David’s passing. The good memories - pre cancer memories were so prevalent in my mind the entire weekend. Boy was that treasured! I just wish those memories stuck with me more so than the post cancer ones do. Anyhow, it was a great trip complete with amazing food, delicious drinks and even a precious playlist dedicated to David created by Jeremy. What amazing friends the A’s are! Click here for one song selection from Dave's playlist





Monday I spent the day honoring my beloved David’s memory by putting a nice edge on his tree. I planted beautiful red Gerber Daisies (one for each of us – Daddy, Mommy, Vinnie, & Libby) around it, installed a light that shines just bright enough at night to see his beautiful face on the memorial plaque from my bedroom window, and of course proudly added his Ohio State sign and flag. I know he would approve, and would be impressed with my meticulous work as if it were work done by his own hands. After all, it was done in his memory. David never cut corners as he was quite the hard working perfectionist. I loved that about him. That and for many many many other reasons, but I know that comes as no surprise to you.

Wednesday I spent the evening with one of my favorite friends Russell. Many of you have heard David and I speak of Russell, but unfortunately not many of you have had the pleasure of meeting him. Let me just tell you, he is awesome. Russell is a 70 something year old widower. His Sarah fought the great cancer fight for many many years. I was very blessed to have the opportunity to meet Sarah before she died. She had the same impressive “never give up” will to fight just like David. Sara lost her battle on March 13, 2009. David almost died the same day just one year later. Russell spent a lot of his lonely evenings last summer having David and I over to can fruits, vegetables… whatever he had fresh that day. He is responsible for teaching David and I to can. David and I thoroughly loved our evenings with ole’ Russell (as David called him). Now that David and Sara are both gone, Russell and I both continue on with our evenings. Just now we both share stories, talk about feelings and I believe we both find it comforting. I know I do. Anyhow, Wednesday I managed to pick 35 pounds of the most delicious strawberries you’d ever tasted. YES, I said 35 pounds. Let me just tell you – that is a lot! I did give some away, but between yesterday and today I canned 24 half pints and 23 pints of strawberry jam. It turned out nice too if I do say so myself. Another project that made David happy I’m sure. I asked him to be sure all the jam set just before I stated, and it looks like he granted my wish. ;)



Friday I went along with my mom to Dr. Mannion’s (her and David’s oncologist) for her normal bi-annual appointment. I had wanted to go there ever since David passed, but could never bring myself to do it. I miss those people there like crazy as they became family to David and me. I just knew all kinds of feelings would take over and I did not want to be the crying 30 year old widow there for all those sick individuals who are fighting for their lives to see, and possibly lose a little hope for themselves by my “misfortune”. That would horrify me. I wanted to be able to go with happy eyes and big hugs, and thought that with my mom there as my crutch I could be that person on the outside even if I’m FAR from that on the inside. I hardly made it through the automatic sliding glass doors. But I kept going. Every muscle in my face hurt from trying SO hard not to cry. Exam room 3 – I just kept praying please don’t put mom in #3. I cannot take that room. I never want to look at those walls again. That was the room David received “the talk”. The blue chairs – those damn blue chairs. He sat in every one of them for treatment at one point and time. I so badly just wanted to sit in one – any ole one. Not sure why, but I didn’t. I did not look one single patient in the eye. I couldn’t. I could not get that close so I didn’t have my blue chair moment – that time. Maybe next??? Maybe I won’t need that moment the next time. I don’t know – grief is weird. It is cruel, and yet I want to cling to it so bad because grief feels better than guilt and right now anything enjoyable makes me feel guilty because I cannot share it with David. Anyway – the visit. I did see Dr. Mannion. I gave him his Team Sarcoma Sucks shirt. He smiled and said thank you. Then he said the most amazing thing. He said “In my business when a patient dies it is good to know you have done all you could do, but for me – in David’s case, that still isn’t good enough.” Wow! He then asked me how I was doing, and when I said OK he replied “are you lying through those tears?” We all had a laugh and THANK GOD for that! I then psyched myself up for Miss Peggy. Oh God, Miss Peggy. What would I have done the last three years without her!?! She said the most amazing, complementary things. People tell me ALL the time how great I was at taking care of David and his needs, but when someone like Peggy tells you that, when she noticed things you thought she had no idea of, when she held me and allowed me to sob on her shoulder (away from patients I promise) – that is the definition of an angel on earth. May God bless everyone at CHO!





Yesterday Mom and I went Krogering together, but first we had breakfast at First Watch. David LOVED that place and mom and I both felt like going there in his honor. Walking in I saw a friend from high school I hadn’t seen in years. He was so nice and obviously unaware of the tragedy I just endured. I told mom how great it was for just that moment to be treated “normal.” There was no pity in his eyes, no offer of condolences – no awkward moment. That was nice. Then as we were finishing up our meal that friend came over to “catch up” and the normalcy ended as he asked “so, what’s gone on in your life? Husband – kids?” CRAP! It sure was nice while it lasted. John, if you read this don’t feel bad buddy. Thank you for making me feel somewhat like me again.





Anyway, I just looked at what time it is and realized how long this entry must be. Thank you if you have stuck it out reading it this far. You are a trooper.



Have a great week!





Love,
Amy