Monday, September 24, 2007
Today it is six years since John's initial diagnosis September 24, 2001.
Woke up this morning six years in the past as if not a day has gone by. Only think what isdifferent is my body feels six years beaten down. Some of this malise today I am sure is my dear friend Kimba died a week ago Friday. I was dreaming of her and John and the differences between their passing. John died surrounded by people, but not all the people he should of because I would not accept or acknowledge he was dying. Kim died quietly alone in her sleep, no one ever believing even with her serious health problems she would ever die. I wonder which is better? I forever have imprinted John's final breath, the look on Dr. Wolf's face, the morphine into John's tubing and the stupid things I said. Shirley (Kimba's Mom) forever has to think about Kim dying alone. Bill, her husband has to see finding her at home in bed. Which is worse or is it always going to be equally bad??
One of the hardest parts about Kimba dying is that mostly it brings up the grief I feel for myself and then I wonder how can I be so selfish? Kim's Mom is aching in a way that only a few others can feel. And I sit here sad and pouting that I have to go through this day once again, questions still unanswered about how to travel back in time as John's smell and face fades clearly from my memory.
In the last six years I have been through so many changes, most of them remarkable. I discovered what true friendship is, familial love and devotion, that I cannot always stand alone. Lately I have also learned to be in love again.
I know John would be happy with me moving on with my life, and I know he would like it better if I were easier on myself...but the end result is I would do anything, absolutely anything to have him back even if it is only for a few minutes.
Woke up this morning six years in the past as if not a day has gone by. Only think what isdifferent is my body feels six years beaten down. Some of this malise today I am sure is my dear friend Kimba died a week ago Friday. I was dreaming of her and John and the differences between their passing. John died surrounded by people, but not all the people he should of because I would not accept or acknowledge he was dying. Kim died quietly alone in her sleep, no one ever believing even with her serious health problems she would ever die. I wonder which is better? I forever have imprinted John's final breath, the look on Dr. Wolf's face, the morphine into John's tubing and the stupid things I said. Shirley (Kimba's Mom) forever has to think about Kim dying alone. Bill, her husband has to see finding her at home in bed. Which is worse or is it always going to be equally bad??
One of the hardest parts about Kimba dying is that mostly it brings up the grief I feel for myself and then I wonder how can I be so selfish? Kim's Mom is aching in a way that only a few others can feel. And I sit here sad and pouting that I have to go through this day once again, questions still unanswered about how to travel back in time as John's smell and face fades clearly from my memory.
In the last six years I have been through so many changes, most of them remarkable. I discovered what true friendship is, familial love and devotion, that I cannot always stand alone. Lately I have also learned to be in love again.
I know John would be happy with me moving on with my life, and I know he would like it better if I were easier on myself...but the end result is I would do anything, absolutely anything to have him back even if it is only for a few minutes.
