Palm Springs Christmas

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you probably realize that Christmas Eve was the one-year anniversary of Dennis's death. I had decided some time ago that it would probably be in my best interest to get out of town instead of being home alone at that time. It was definitely the correct decision.

I stayed in Cathedral City (right next door to Palm Springs) with my old friend Des. He picked me up at the airport Friday night, we visited until a bit after midnight, then went to bed. Saturday morning, we went over to Donna's house for breakfast with her and Joshua. She made a quiche in honor of Dennis, as he always made the best quiches. After we ate, we made mimosas and toasted him, then the four of us watched the DVD that Doug had made for me from the Celebration of Life party back in January. Donna, Des and I had already seen it; Joshua had not seen it. It brought out many tears on my part, and a sniffle or two from everyone else. But after that big cry, I was fine the rest of the weekend. I was able to talk about Dennis without breaking down; I was able to enjoy the parties (yes, parties as in plural). Des had a party Christmas Eve for about 35-40 people. It was a lot of fun. One of the things he does is issues name tags to everyone to make it easier to start a conversation with others. I'm assuming because I was the new face in the room, it seemed that everyone came up to me and just started talking. At 7:45pm, I was in a small group of people and I asked them to indulge me for a moment; then I told them about Dennis passing away at 7:45pm the previous Christmas Eve and I wanted to toast him. Even though I was with strangers, they toasted along with me without hesitation, plus they all expressed their condolences. I did that with about three different groups of people throughout the evening once 7:45pm had passed by.

I was kept pretty busy on Christmas day too, as we attended two separate open house parties. They were only a few blocks from Des's house and the two parties were right next door to each other, so we went to the first and only had to walk next door to attend the second one. I ended up meeting a lot of Des's friends over the weekend including some of the people that had attended his party, so it was kind of cool seeing the same people a couple of days in a row.

Once the parties were over, we just hung around the house, went out to dinner a couple of times and I really enjoyed myself the entire weekend. It made the one-year anniversary much easier to take. And even though I know that the one-year anniversary was symbolic, I have already noticed a slight change in how I feel. I'm hoping that 2012 will be a better year as not only did 2011 represent my first year of being without Dennis, I also lost my Mom in September, so essentially I lost the two most important people in my life within one year's time. I had a lot of grief to process in 2011 and I'm still processing. The one thing I learned in therapy is that you never get over it, you learn to live with it—which is what I'm doing, though I certainly don't like it one bit.

Denial

One of the five stages of grief is denial. I have always maintained that I never went through that stage because I never denied that he was indeed going to die. That's what ALS does to people—it eventually kills them. That was always a reality with me. But it hit me today that I went through a subconscious denial because Dennis and I never discussed what I would do with my life after he was gone. I have felt so lost this past year and thinking out it, never discussing how my life would change after he was gone was in a way a denial that we was going to die. I don't have a good handle on it yet, but it's starting to make a little bit of sense. And of course, I will never have the chance to discuss it with him. I can't imagine myself with anyone else at this point, but I find myself feeling sexual again and I'm not sure how to scratch that particular itch. A dildo only goes so far, right? (That's a joke for those of you who don't know me. I'm known to have quite a good sense of humor.)

How can I reconcile this issue? The "dream experts" say it can be accomplished in your dreams, but I never remember any of my dreams; I've always wondered if I dream at all. I suppose I do but it's been many a years since I've remembered a dream that I've had. The thing that worries me most is the loneliness issue. My friends have helped me in many immeasurable ways but friends and friendship can only carry me so far. When I'm at home and I'm the only one around, that's the time when loneliness strikes like a viper. I will not consider a "roommate" and I don't see myself with anyone in the near future. At least I came to the realization about my lack of denial. I had never looked at it that way before so introspection is needed. I certainly can't deny that he's not here and he will not be coming back. I've never really denied that anyhow. I don't really need his approval to become a sexual being again but I'm also reluctant to really get involved in anything. Is that what the next year holds in store for me? Getting used to the idea that I can be a sexual being again (without him), is as difficult as it may be to do so. I'm a little out of practice. Having had a 30+ year sexual relationship with the same person has kind of spoiled me. We did have a wonderful sex life and he was a great lover. Boy has this article rambled on all of a sudden. That's what sex will do to you, right?

Tomorrow night will be 52 weeks ago that he died. Fifty-two Fridays. Day 365, one year, is Saturday. Christmas Eve. The holiday season has not been very festive for me. I've been trying as best I can. I did send out 25 cards and even did a holiday newsletter. So I'm trying, but it ain't easy. I'm heading to Palm Springs tomorrow night to spend the time with my friend Des. Donna and Joshua will also be at their place; we'll be joining them for breakfast Christmas Eve morning. Thank goodness I love Bette Davis, as it's going to be a bumpy ride this weekend.

The Early Years — Part 9

Even though Halloween has been referred to as "a national gay holiday" Dennis and I never really got into it. That did change once, and one time only—Halloween of 1987. A friend of ours, Tim Chitwood, had decided he was going to throw a large Halloween party and of course, we were invited. When we first got the invitation, we just kind of shrugged it off. But then we found out that many of our friends were going to go so we decided, "What the hell, let's do it," I told him.

Since neither of us had ever dressed up for Halloween, we had to figure out what type of costumes we wanted to wear. Should be go as a couple? Individual costumes, not related to what the other was wearing? I called up my friend Tom Wade as I knew he had dressed up as a court jester a year or two earlier, so I wanted to borrow his costume. He still had it, so that settled what I was going to do. Dennis wanted to get a bit more bizarre and complicated. He talked our friend Donna into sewing him a large black hooded cape. We then went searching and found him a full black body leotard. We also bought a Halloween kit for painting faces, etc.

Halloween even fell on a Saturday that year, so it was perfect. I had called Tom and asked him to come over after we got dressed so that he could take photos of us. As the doorbell rang, Dennis hid in the bedroom because we wanted to surprise Tom with his costume. I buzzed Tom in and met him at the door. "Oh, that costume looks good on you, Rick. I can't wait to see Dennis, too."

"Come on in, Tom. He's in the bedroom because he wants to make an 'entrance' for you." We walked into the living room and I told Tom to sit down and close his eyes. Once seated, I went into the bedroom to tell Dennis to make his entrance.

"Okay, Tom. You can open your eyes now," I half-screamed.

As Tom's eyes opened, his mouth dropped. "Dennis, is that you? Oh my god, what a costume. I don't believe it."

Once Dennis had gotten dressed, I applied white face paint to his entire head, face, neck and ears, along with his hands. I also painted his lips black. I then put black circles around his eyes and eyelids and painted an 8-ball on his forehead. He had become an "8-Ball God" for the night.

We took a cab to the party and had a wonderful night of partying with friends. Our only Halloween party in over 30 years of partnership. But we did look pretty good, don't you think?

In praise of friends

If you've been following this blog, you are aware that this has been a particularly difficult year for me as I attempt to "heal" from the loss of Dennis. I don't know if "heal" is the correct word but "get over it" is not in the lexicon either. You don't "get over" the loss of someone you were with for over 30 years. As I learned in both individual and group therapy, you learn to live with it, which is quite different from getting over it. Having experienced the depths of depression, I can truly state that if it weren't for my friends, I'm not sure I would have gotten through this year. Don't get me wrong, I've never considered suicide as the answer to what I've been going through, but the depth of my depression has surprised even me.

In particular, I want you all to know that if it weren't for my friends Donna Blow, her partner Nancy Muller, and their son Joshua, along with my closest friend, Tom Wade, I don't think I could have survived. There are others who have been there for me at different points in time, but these four have been there without question, without hesitation for me through the entire ordeal I've been going through. Friends like these are a very rare commodity and I appreciate them more than they could ever know (unless they read this, of course). Tom even knew Dennis before I did and he continues to be "amazed" that Dennis is not physically with us any longer. Donna's insight into some of the "firsts" I'd be experiencing was prescient. Her foresight helped me get through my birthday because she made sure that I would not be by myself, as she suggested that I join her in Palm Springs that weekend. Tom, Donna and I had a wonderful weekend—through tears and all. I used both their shoulders that weekend.

I've mentioned before that I'm going to be in Palm Springs over the Christmas holiday as I could not even think about being home by myself at that time. What with his passing on Christmas Eve, the next ten days are going to be very difficult for me. Donna, Nancy and Joshua were planning to be in their second home during this time anyhow, but Donna showed her true colors when she informed me that instead of spending a day or two in LA visiting a friend, when she flies down to LA on the 23rd, she and Joshua will be driving to Palm Springs instead. As she told me, "I want to be there all weekend for you." And that's the kind of friend she is—remarkable.

So this article is aimed at the four of them. A very large thank you goes to each of you. I love all of you and count you as people who will be in my life forever.

The office holiday party

Our office's annual holiday party was held yesterday. We generally have the party in conjunction with our co-workers from the Davis office. For the second year in a row, the party was held at Bistro Don Giovanni's in Napa, which is equidistant from Davis and San Francisco, so each office travels approximately the same distance. It was yet another emotional day for me, as it represented the first office party I've attended without Dennis being with me. We rented a shuttle bus and 16 of us from the San Francisco office headed out at about 2:30pm. It's a rare event when I get to be a passenger in a vehicle instead of being the driver, so it was nice being able to just stare out the window during the ride. Michelle brought a container of champagne; the first cork was popped just as we were getting on the Bay Bridge, as traffic had started backing up in anticipation of the Friday afternoon commute. While sipping champagne and thinking of Dennis, the tears started rolling down my face. I kept my sobbing as quiet as I could and I don't think anyone even noticed my tears.

Susan from the Davis office had been the party coordinator and she was waiting at the restaurant as the bus pulled up to the front door. This is the only time of year that I get to see my co-workers from the Davis office and I've always tried to make the most of it. While it was fun seeing everyone, there was an element of sadness as I watched everyone else with their spouse and/or significant other enjoying themselves while all I could do was have memories of past parties in which Dennis was a big participant. I got choked up numerous times but here I am Saturday morning writing about it, so I guess I survived. Due to the fact that we've hired many new people in the past year, there were a lot of unfamiliar faces, so Michelle (as the Senior Vice President) decided it would be a good idea to go around the room and everyone had to introduce themselves, tell why they were at the party and give a fact about themselves that people may not know about. When it came to be my turn, I stood and said, "I'm Rick from the SF office; I've dealt with everyone at some point and it's nice to see everyone. It's my 18th party, but the first without Dennis, and it's a bit difficult today, but I'm here enjoying myself as much as I can. Oh, and I play a little pool."

Overall, I'd say the party was a success. The food and atmosphere was really nice. Dennis would have liked the place. Once I got home, I had a major crying spell that I think I'd been holding in most of the day. In another two weeks, it will be one year since he died. It's still difficult to grasp that fact, but it's reinforced every time I walk into the living room and see his empty chair.

The countdown has started

Yesterday, Saturday December 3rd, represents the beginning of the countdown as one year will have elapsed since Dennis died. It's been weighing heavily on my mind, to say the least. I just got through a difficult November and December doesn't seem to be starting off any better. I can't comprehend that one year has passed; it all still seems to have happened just yesterday. I can still "see" him in his chair, looking frail but still here, talking, laughing, just being himself. I was talking to him Friday night (yes, I still talk to him—all the time), telling him how I couldn't believe one year was approaching. I apologized for the fact that I'm not doing all that well, but I can't help it. I just miss him so much, I don't know what else to say. A lot of tears have been flowing lately, seemingly coming out of nowhere at just about any provocation.

Our annual holiday party at the office is coming up this Friday, and the way I feel about it is it's just something else I have to get through. I'm just not in much of a festive mood. I'm trying to figure out if I want to bother getting any holiday decorations out of the storage bin. Nothing about the holidays feels right this year. I used to do an annual holiday newsletter that I would include with the holiday cards, but I'm not in the mood to send any out. I just can't get motivated. I feel very lost and my GPS unit can't find the way back. I'm floundering so much you might as well toss me back into the ocean—or wherever flounders survive.

I've been feeling so down lately that I'm even re-reading On Grief and Grieving, figuring it can't hurt. The words in this book really resonated with me when I first read it, and now we'll see if I pick up any new ideas as I "learn to live with it" (the main premise of the book). Of course, learning to live with it doesn't necessarily mean I have to like it, and I don't like it one damn bit.

Post-Thanksgiving blues

Over the past three days, I've been surrounded by my good friends as we celebrated the holiday. It was emotional at times, but I survived. Now that I'm back home, that lonely feeling has surfaced again. This was a very difficult Thanksgiving for me; I missed Dennis terribly, even though overall, the four-day weekend was pretty good. We held a moment of silence for Dennis and Bernie (another long-time member of the Thanksgiving Day crowd) before we sat down for the meal. It wasn't exactly silent for me as the tears were flowing, but I think you know what I mean. Even though there were fewer people than we've had at the last few gatherings, the food was good, the company was good, and the day was worthwhile, albeit painful—at least for me.

Friday, Saturday and this morning, I was up in Angwin, California (in Napa Valley), visiting an old friend and her partner. It was nice getting out of the city for a couple of days. Sure is quiet up there! We just hung out, visited, ate, watched college football all day Saturday (go Blue!) and had a nice visit. But now that I'm back, the house just feels so empty. Which just goes to show you, even though good friends have helped get me through this ordeal I've been on this year, friendship only goes so far. They can't all come and stay with me. And the empty house just makes missing Dennis even more difficult. Not only was I missing him, I had my first Thanksgiving without Mom being around. Even though over the past 30 years I have not had Thanksgiving with her, it was very strange not being able to talk to her that day. I did speak to my sister, who was having a pretty difficult day herself. She was Mom's caregiver over the past eight years, and it was rough on her. We cried together over the phone. One more month and it will be one year since he passed. Difficult times ahead.

Thanksgiving

It's my first Thanksgiving in 31 years without Dennis, and the tears have started already—and it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet. I'll be going to Jim and Greg's today like we've done for the past eight years, and the people that will be gathering there will help me get through the day. I'm very grateful for my friends and family and for all they've done for me—this year in particular. Last year was difficult as I watched him slip away, but this almost one year of grieving has been even more difficult. As hard as it was to watch him slowly fade away, at least he was here. And I know it wasn't easy for him; after all, he was the one who was dying. And I wouldn't want him back in the condition he was in at the end. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. This was one of our favorite times of the year. That's another reason why it's so difficult. Even though he hated pumpkin, he would make the pumpkin cheesecake that we always take; he'd even make my pumpkin/cranberry bread every once in a while if I didn't have time to do it. And every Thanksgiving morning, he'd make his egg bread. The recipe was for two loaves, but he'd braid them together to make one very large loaf, put an egg wash on it and sprinkle poppy seeds over the top. It not only looked good, it tasted wonderful.

Other than the bread (he didn't get a chance to teach me how to do that), I did all the baking myself this year. I made the cheesecake last Sunday; it's been in the refrigerator since then. It looked great coming out of the oven, so I'm hopeful that it will taste as if he made it. I also made the pumpkin/cranberry bread; took half a loaf to my next door neighbor Matt, who has been a great neighbor for the past 15 years; took a whole loaf to the office and gave the recipe to two of my coworkers, who want to make some of their own. The only item left is the green bean casserole, which I will bake so that it comes out of the oven just before I leave to pick up Carl.

Once again, thanks to all my friends and family who have helped me get through this most difficult year.

Grief group reunion

I received an email the other day from Diana, one of the women from the grief group I did earlier in the year. She was trying to arrange a lunch but she was having trouble reaching the others because it appeared she had some incorrect email addresses. I passed along what I had, she reached Jan and Judy, and the four of us had a wonderful reunion at a restaurant near Golden Gate Park called Park Chow. Even though we all admitted that we are struggling with the upcoming holidays, we all looked happier than the last time we saw each other at the final session of the grief group.

Jan had been on a trip to Europe, mostly in and around London, but she also went to Spain and Majorca. Her traveling companion is her best friend Alex, a gay man she has known for years. She said they had a wonderful time. Alex kept teasing her that he was looking for "Miguel" so Jan decided she'd start looking for "Fernando" and it became a running joke with them. When we left the restaurant, Jan exclaimed, "Keep your eyes open for Fernando and let me know if you see him." That got a laugh out of all of us.

Diana had gone through her ankle surgery and moved to Novato, though she wishes now she hadn't moved that for north. Judy has kept herself busy working temp jobs, never knowing where she'll be on any given day, but she loves it. Her funniest story was about working at the Oracle convention that was just in San Francisco recently. As she said, "They paid me $12 an hour to greet people at the top of the stairs and point them in the direction of where they were heading. Not exactly college graduate work, but I did have a good time."

I told them about Mom passing away in September. None of them had been aware of that, though Judy had seen on my blog that I had mentioned that Mom was taking a turn for the worse; she had not seen the updated blog with the news of Mom's death. I told them of my struggles during the month and the difficult time I was having adjusting to the upcoming holidays without Dennis, the first time in over 31 years that he hasn't been with me.

But overall, the lunch was a success and we did have a very nice visit with each other.

Holiday season blues

With the upcoming holiday season approaching, one of the most difficult parts about the whole time period, besides the fact that Dennis is not here physically, is the fact that this time of year was one of our favorite times. We always referred to this season as the "excessive eating" holidays. And Dennis was really in his element. What with his cooking skills, the kitchen was always filled with the aromas of the season. Even though he did not care for pumpkin at all, he always made the pumpkin cheesecake we would take to Jim and Greg's as one of our food donations. Another recipe was for pumpkin/cranberry bread, which I generally would make but he made it for me a couple of times. The recipe makes two loaves and I'd always bring one into the office to share with my coworkers. I never did take home leftovers; the treats would disappear almost as soon as I put them out on the table.

Not every year, but most years we would host a holiday party. The variety of foods that we would prepare was astounding. He would scour through cookbooks and the food section of the newspaper, along with watching the Food Network, looking for recipes and ideas. We would average between one to two dozen different items. My specialty was always meatballs, so I'd make either Swedish or porcupine meatballs (based in a chili sauce with rice as the "quills"); it was a recipe that my grandmother used to make, though mine would come out spicier than hers. He'd be in charge of the rest of the food and I'd help wherever I could. The last large party we threw was a combination holiday/anniversary party, as we had celebrated our 25th in September and we held the party in December of 2005. We created so many food items that I still retain the list of goodies, which included cheese empanadas, a seafood sandwich roll, deviled ham puffs (pastry balls filled with deviled ham), Swedish and porcupine meatballs (I went crazy that year), crab cakes, prosciutto pinwheels, horseshoe cookies, pumpkin/cranberry bread, feta and spinach pinwheels, fudge, pork bites with mushrooms, crab and cream cheese spread to put on party sized home-baked egg bread, deviled eggs, shrimp with various dipping sauces, and champagne punch. Other than that, we didn't have much (insert snicker here).

Remembering that party brings a smile to my face. But facing the upcoming holiday season has brought a case of the blues because he's not here to help share it this time. I know my friends will help me get through the whole six weeks of the season, but it won't be the same. I'm going to go to the store later and get some of the items I need because I've decided I will do some of the baked goodies we've always done. It's just another part of the process I've been going through all year. It has to be done. I may break down and have a good cry while doing it, but I will get through it. And once I'm done, there will be some great tasting food for friends to share with me.

Emotions running rampant

Between now and the end of the year represents the end of my "year of firsts" since Dennis died. Looking ahead at the upcoming holiday season (from Thanksgiving to year end) literally reduces me to tears. I've managed to make it through all the other firsts, but the ones on the horizon are going to be the most difficult. It has been 31 years since I've had to celebrate the holidays without Dennis around, and needless to say, that saddens me. I have made plans to be with close friends during this time, but friends can only do so much. I'm looking forward to getting through this year of firsts but at the same time I can't stand the thought. Conflicting emotions running rampant. I had another major crying spell last night; haven't had one that lasted as long as it did for quite a while now. So what's the answer? I guess just one step at a time.

November is a bitch

It sure is a pain being a widow. All the "experts" say that things get better, but I'm really not seeing that aspect of what I'm going through. Grieving is hard work. I came to the realization over the weekend that I may have to retire from playing pool for a while. It just isn't fun anymore; it's become nothing more than irritating to me. It's like I've never played the game before, and considering the fact that I've been in the league for more than 28 years now, I cannot stand the current state of my game. Because hindsight is always 20/20, I can see now that I never should have joined up with a new team last January. I obviously need to take a break away from the game. I don't know how my teammates will feel about this, but I have to look out after myself first, and due to the frustrating nature of my game, I can't afford the stress level any longer. All this angst over a damn game; how fucking trivial is that?

I know a lot that is going on is due to the time of the year—the holiday season is approaching, and it's the first time in 31 years that I'm by myself—no Dennis. Sure, I've got friends that I will spend the holidays with, but it just isn't going to be the same this time around. Marquita and Kim have been after me to come for a visit with them up in Napa Valley, and I'm going to do so, heading up the day after Thanksgiving and spending the three-day weekend with them. I'll be at Jim and Greg's for Thanksgiving Day, as that has been our tradition for the past 7-8 years. It's going to be difficult, not just for me, but also for one of the other guys. Benji's partner Bernie also passed away earlier this year, so he'll be by himself as well. I'm sure we will be there for each other.

I just need to get through this month in one piece with at least some of my sanity left. I'll deal with December when it hits.

Cry baby

The title of this article is the name of the song by Janis Joplin, as in "cry-y-y-y-y, ba-a-a-aby"—not crybaby, as in someone who complains frequently with little cause. If I'm a crybaby, I do have just cause. But lately, it's been more like cry baby—when you least expect it. The other night I was de-stemming baby spinach as I wanted to use only the leaves (it's a 'Dennis is looking over my shoulder' thing...), and all of a sudden I was weeping. He used to make us big baby spinach salads for dinner sometimes, using a variety of goodies like chopped onion, garlic, Canadian bacon, a cheese or two, tomatoes—you get the idea. Doing that for us was no longer in the equation, and my buried emotions boiled to the surface. Once again, a simple daily act induced tears.

I just had another minor eipsode a few minutes ago while folding clothes. It's only my clothes now; his are not even around any longer, and pow—out of the blue, the emotions spilled out...again. Big sigh...

I have so many days on the horizon that are going to be rough, that I'm sure it plays a part in all these tears. And I realize everything I'm going through, especially this first year, are necessary steps. But my feet are sore.

Adrift in a sea of doubt

Continuing on this fucking journey called my life, the tide keeps taking me farther away from what used to be a rather fun time. I can't say that any longer. My life raft is drifting and I'm contemplating puncturing a hole in it; let's see if these life preservers really work. Last night was the end of the regular season in my pool league and I've come to the realization that pool no longer appeals to me like it once did. It used to be fun to play but without Dennis around, it just seems like it's nothing more than an irritant. Having been in the league for the past twenty-eight and one-half years, I've been in the upper echelon of shooters for a long time. But these last two seasons combined, I have a losing record. I've never gone two seasons in a row (other than when I first joined and had to figure out what the league was all about) without being in the top 20 shooters. I can't even crack the top 100 any longer. My frustration level is at an all time high and I'm seriously thinking of giving it up entirely. When you've done something for a long time, and you've done it well, playing at a sub-par level just doesn't cut it.

What is the answer? I can't even figure out the fucking question, let alone come up with an answer. I've come to realize that the individual and group therapy I went through earlier in the year really was no help whatsoever. There's not much point to anything any longer. This is probably one of the most negative articles I've written since I started this blog, but you have to start somewhere. This blog is supposed to be my therapy, and at times it has kept my negativity from getting too far along. I'm tired of drifting. I want my life back and I can't have it. I'm really feeling helpless without him.

There's an old saying that goes something like this: be careful what you ask for, you may get it. For the entire 30+ years we were together, I always felt that it would be better for both of us if he died first because he'd be lost without me. And now I find out that just the opposite is true. I'm lost without him. Irony, meet your latest victim.

Fun Day

The place where I've worked for the past 18 years usually has a once per year event called "Fun Day" whereby the entire office gets the afternoon off from working and we do something together that is "fun." Last Wednesday was the latest iteration of this event. Our office party planner, Aimee, created a scavenger type event, whereby the city was divided into four zones and each of the teams were to go to various places in these zones in order to win points. The highest total points leader at the end of the day would be the "winner" and get additional prizes. There were separate prizes for best team name and for the team that spent their $20 to acquire the most items of a toiletry nature. Our team won both of those, accumulating 40 items from a One Dollar store, and the neutral judges at the bar/restaurant where we ended up chose our "Pickpocket Posse" as most imaginative team name. The total point competition was close, with only 12 points separating the four teams. We all received commemorative tee shirts that day too, with the Golden Gate Bridge on the front and the saying "Work hard + Play Harder" on the front (the name of our company is Harder+Company Community Research), so it was a play on words based on the company name.

Our team started from the office, heading towards Twin Peaks. One of the clues in our booklet was to go to the second highest peak in the city and according to Google, it is Twin Peaks. Mt. Davidson is the highest point in the city. On the way, we passed a food truck (another item on the list) on Harrison, so we stopped and bought an item and took the photo with the team members. After that, we saw a Dollar Store on Mission so we stopped and bought our toiletries. We swung through the Castro District, went to a "parklet" at 17th & Market and took a team photo. We also convinced a stranger to hold our flyer so we could take a picture (it was worth extra points to get as many strangers as you could to hold the flyer and take their photo). We swung by Harvey Milk's old camera store (now occupied by the Human Rights Commission office) and picked up their flyer and took our team photo in front of the store. Above the store is a painting of Harvey Milk as if he's looking out a window.

We reached Twin Peaks, took more photos, and then headed to the tile steps at 16th Avenue and Moraga. These 163 steps have ceramic tiles on the riser part of the stairs. We had to locate two tiles in particular and have a group photo taken with all of us at the top. Next up was to see how many bison were in the haddock in Golden Gate Park. We then headed to the old Sutra Baths at Land's End. Next we went to Hayes Valley and got ice cream (made while you wait) by a machine called "Kelvin" (one of the items on our list).

So as you can see, while we were going all over the city visiting the various destinations, the event was really fun. For me, the hard part came when it was winding down at the bar/restaurant. Dennis had always been a part of our Fun Day, and this time, of course, he was not in attendance. He had been the only "spouse" in the company who had been allowed to participate in these events. Once I had the time to just sit and start thinking, it got to me and I had tears rolling down my face because I was missing him so much. I had a lot of support from my co-workers, but eventually, I left earlier than I may have if he had been around. I didn't want to bring everyone down with my feelings starting to change from happy to sad.

Unfortunately, this is the first of numerous "pit days" that are on the horizon for me. Foremost in my mind at the moment is Thanksgiving. I plan to attend by going to Jim and Greg's, but I also know it's going to be an emotional day. And of course, in December we'll be having our office's holiday party, another event that Dennis was always a part of, followed by the Christmas holidays. I know all this "stuff" is just more things I have to go through in this first year of him not being around, but it's difficult. In fact, this whole year has been difficult, but I guess if you've been reading this blog, you've figured that one out already.

Feeling blue

Yesterday represented 10 months since Dennis died. It was also the one-year anniversary when we got together with our friend Tom Wade as he celebrated being in San Francisco for 25 years. He took a photo of us at that time while we were waiting outside the restaurant for our friends Donna & Nancy and their son Joshua to join us. He uses the photo as identification when I call his cell phone; that picture pops up so he knows I'm call before he answers his phone.

No matter how much time has elapsed, I still feel depressed a lot of the time. The pain of his loss just refuses to let go. I just can't find a purpose to my life any longer. I'm still going through the motions, no matter how hard I try to get past this whole ordeal. I do not know what the next step is supposed to be. How long does this malaise last? While I may be getting used to the fact that he's not here any longer, looking into the future just reinforces how alone I am (no slight intended to all my friends; I'm sure you know what I mean). Having him by my side for over 30 years is still too fresh. I'm constantly turning to his chair to say something to him, but of course, he's not there.

I've got a couple of months in front of me that are going to be tough. Thanksgiving is on the horizon. I plan on going to Jim and Greg's like we've done for the past 7-8 years or so, but I'm dreading it at the same time because it's going to be painful. Not only will he be missing from the festivities, but our good friend Bernie King will also be missing. His partner, Benji, will most likely be there as well, and we'll probably cry on each other's shoulders. Before the food line starts, I plan on asking for a moment of silence for both Dennis and Bernie, as they have been an important part of this day for a long time. Jim always said as long as Bernie and Benji and Rick and Dennis were in attendance, that's all he needed to have a good Thanksgiving. Half those couples will be missing. I'm sure that Benji and I will not be the only ones who experience the loss that day. And of course, the Christmas holiday season will be here before you know it as well. As I've mentioned before, I'm planning on being in Palm Springs for a 4-day weekend at that time, because I really believe that I could not handle being at home—alone—during that time.

I'm still a mess and I don't mind admitting it.

A rock and roll love story, Part 2—the answers

As my follow up to the article I just wrote, here are the artists, along with their song titles, in the order of appearance.

Roadhouse Blues - The Doors
Something to Grab For - Ric Ocasek
Don't Turn Around - Ace of Base
Love You Like a Ball and Chain - Eurythmics
Prime Time - The Tubes
Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin
Wrapped Around Your Finger - The Police
I'm So Excited - The Pointer Sisters
Love on Your Side - Thompson Twins
Come Sail Away - Styx
The Fool on the Hill - The Beatles
Don't Do Me Like That - Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
Caught Up in You - .38 Special
Burnin' For You - Blue Oyster Cult
Emotion in Motion - Ric Ocasek
Give It 2 Me - Madonna
Bitch - The Rolling Stones
What I Like About You - The Romantics
Higher Ground - Stevie Wonder
Somebody's Watching Me - Rockwell
Open Invitation - Santana
Golden Years - David Bowie
Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen
Love Me Two Times - The Doors
Love Machine - Wham
When I Think of You - Janet Jackson
Heartbreaker - Pat Benatar
Together Forever - Rick Astley
Starrider - Foreigner
Taking Love Into My Own Hands - Sylvester
Love My Way - Psychedelic Furs
Fooling Yourself (Angry Young Man) - Styx
More Than This - Roxy Music
When We Make Love - Berlin
Dancing in the Sheets - Shalamar
I Want to Break Free - Queen
Whisper to a Scream - Icicle Works
I Was Born to Love You - Freddie Mercury
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2
Long, Long Way From Home - Foreigner
Lonely Ol' Night - John Cougar
Simply Irresistible - Robert Palmer
Opportunities - Pet Shop Boys
Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard - Paul Simon
Bad Case of Loving You - Robert Palmer
You're My Best Friend - Queen
Crosstown Traffic - Jimi Hendrix
Always Something There to Remind Me - Naked Eyes
Dancing With Myself - Billy Idol
When the Levee Breaks - Led Zeppelin
I Feel Fine - The Beatles
The House is Rockin' - Stevie Ray Vaughan
Come Together - The Beatles
It's Been A Long Time - Dead or Alive
Precious Time - Pat Benatar
Wild Wild Life - Talking Heads
Driven to Tears - The Police
Beaten to the Punch - Elvis Costello
Just My Imagination - The Rolling Stones
All I Need is a Miracle - Mike & the Mechanics
Party Out of Bounds - The B52's
Late in the Evening - Paul Simon
Tush - ZZ Top
We'll Be Together - Sting
One More Chance - Pet Shop Boys
I'm Not Perfect - Grace Jones
Who Needs Love (like that) - Erasure
All of My Love - Led Zeppelin
More Than Physical - Bananarama
Hot Stuff - Donna Summer
Where Do We Go From Here? - The Motels
Remember the Nights - The Motels
Head Over Heels - Tears for Fears
Express Yourself - Madonna
Slave to Love - Brian Ferry
Cool Blue - Eurythmics
Cold as Ice - Foreigner
Tall Cool One - Robert Plant
One Thing Leads to Another - The Fixx
My Red Joystick - Lou Reed
Time - Pink Floyd
Take the Long Way Home - Supertramp
Sunglasses at Night - Corey Hart
You Know I Love You - Howard Jones
Baby Please Don't Go - Van Morrison
Sharp Dressed Man - ZZ Top
53 Miles West of Venus - The B52's
Totally Nude - Talking Heads
Space Oddity - David Bowie
You Make My Heart Beat Faster - Kim Carnes
The Bed's Too Big Without You - The Police
One Headlight - Wallflowers
(Just Like) Starting Over - John Lennon
Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison
Cheap Sunglasses - ZZ Top
Moon Dance - Van Morrison
That's All - Genesis
Too Late for Goodbyes - Julian Lennon
Night in the City - ELO (Electric Light Orchestra)
Say You Love Me - Fleetwood Mac
Send Me an Angel - Real Life
Love of a Lifetime - Chaka Khan
Got My Mind Set on You - George Harrison
Is It Love? - Bette Midler
Need You Tonight - Inxs
Catch Me, I'm Falling - Real Life
It's All I Can Do - The Cars
Crazy in the Night - Kim Carnes
Living On My Own - Freddie Mercury
Take Me In Your Arms - Doobie Brothers
When We Make Love - Berlin

Life is like music: a rock and roll love story—Part 2

I had so much fun creating the last rock and roll love story entry, I thought I'd do another. I went through all my CDs that I made when I transferred old audio tapes onto CDs, wrote down song titles that resonated with me, cut them up into slips of paper, tossed them into a box and drew them out at random. Song titles will be in italics, should you want to try and figure out the artist. From that task comes the following:

I've had the Roadhouse Blues lately and I don't know why. I need Something to Grab For and if I Don't Turn Around, maybe I'll think of something. You know I Love You Like a Ball and Chain and it's Prime Time for a Whole Lotta Love because I've always been Wrapped Around Your Finger. I'm So Excited because there's Love on Your Side, so Come Sail Away with The Fool On the Hill.

Don't Do Me Like That, even though I'm Caught Up in You; you could even say I'm Burnin' For You but let's keep this Emotion in Motion and Give It 2 Me right now, Bitch. What I Like About You is the Higher Ground you tread. It's like Somebody's Watching Me and they've got an Open Invitation to provide for my Golden Years. I was Born to Run but you can't Love Me Two Times with your Love Machine and then walk away. When I Think of You, you're a Heartbreaker because I always thought we'd be Together Forever but you became a Starrider. I tried Taking Love Into My Own Hands so I could Love My Way but it was like Fooling Yourself (Angry Young Man) and More Than This, When We Make Love it's like Dancing in the Sheets.

I Want to Break Free and I'll say it from a Whisper to a Scream—I Was Born to Love You. But now that you're no longer here, I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For and I'm a Long, Long Way From Home on this Lonely Ol' Night. It's Simply Irresistible that the Opportunities for Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard is from a Bad Case of Loving You. You're My Best Friend, even though you're not here but the Crosstown Traffic just keeps moving along. There's Always Something There to Remind Me that from this day forward, I'll be Dancing With Myself. When the Levee Breaks I Feel Fine, and even though The House is Rockin', we'll Come Together.

It's Been a Long Time, you could even say Precious Time, but in this Wild Wild Life, I'm Driven to Tears—even Beaten to the Punch. Is it Just My Imagination, I mean All I Need is A Miracle, so I can Party Out of Bounds Late in the Evening because your Tush is fine and We'll Be Together. We've been given One More Chance; I know I'm Not Perfect, but Who Needs Love (like that). With All of My Love, and it's More Than Physical, it's Hot Stuff. Where Do We Go From Here? Well, we could Remember the Nights when we were Head Over Heels and you could Express Yourself because you were a Slave to Love. You may have been Cool Blue, but you were never Cold as Ice, just a Tall Cool One.

People say that One Thing Leads to Another, so let me entertain you with My Red Joystick; given enough Time, we'll Take the Long Way Home, and we can wear Sunglasses at Night. You Know I Love You, so Baby Please Don't Go because you're a Sharp Dressed Man. Even though we're 53 Miles West of Venus, let's get Totally Nude and go on a Space Oddity. You Make My Heart Beat Faster, but now The Bed's Too Big Without You. Watch out for that One Headlight, it's usually a motorcycle, and (Just Like) Starting Over we'll keep going down the road.

You never were my Brown Eyed Girl, but you were my brown eyed boy who liked wearing his Cheap Sunglasses and doing the Moon Dance. That's All you ever did but it's Too Late for Goodbyes. Let's have a Night in the City where you can Say You Love Me. I don't want you to Send Me an Angel because you're my Love of a Lifetime and I've Got My Mind Set on You. Is It Love? Hard to tell, but I Need You Tonight and I want you to Catch Me, I'm Falling. What else can I say—It's All I Can Do, even if it is Crazy in the Night. And now that I'm Living On My Own, there's no way you can Take Me In Your Arms When We Make Love.

Ten trips to paradise

Waikiki from helicopter ride with Tom

Beginning in 1986, Dennis and I made 10 trips to Hawaii, eight of them to Waikiki on the island of Oahu and two trips to Kauai. The first time I personally went was in 1985, when Mom and Dad went for a three-week stay with Mom’s sister, my Aunt Betty. It was a last minute thing; I was able to get time off from work, Dennis was not able to do so. My best friend Tom Wade was able to get time off, so the two of us went for a week in Waikiki during the time Mom and Dad were going to be there. Tom and I did a lot of tourist stuff, from going to the Arizona memorial at Pearl Harbor, to enjoying a quick helicopter tour that went over Diamond Head crater to Hanauma Bay, a popular snorkeling spot. This trip inspired me to make Hawaii our vacation area of choice for the rest of the time we were together, and once Dennis went, he wholeheartedly agreed with me.

During 20th anniversary trip

Dennis truly fell in love with Hawaii. He always used to say, “Don’t you feel the energy?” And of course with me being the typical Taurean, I’d always reply, “No. I feel the sun on me and I feel the trade winds, but I don’t really ‘feel’ the energy. Sorry, dear.” We always got a laugh out of it. We even managed a trip to Waikiki while he was going through chemotherapy after his colon cancer surgery in April of 1994. His routine had been one week of chemotherapy, followed by three weeks without any. The doctor told him he could go an extra week before his next session, so we scheduled a week in Waikiki in June. That trip, the Honolulu Aquarium had reopened after its remodel and Dennis was in seventh heaven while studying the exhibits. Being an Aquarian (the water bearer of the cosmos), water was his element. Though to be honest about it, even I enjoyed looking at all the colorful fish and coral exhibits.

25th Anniversary trip

It’s kind of difficult trying to remember what we did on each trip, but after our first trip when we did a lot of tourist stuff, we mostly would go for relaxation. I do recall on one of our two trips to Kauai, I read seven books in nine days (I’m a voracious reader). But that’s what we were there for: to relax and do nothing. The islands are very romantic and needless to say, our sex life was richly rewarded every time we went. We always had a wonderful physical relationship, but it was enhanced each time we went to the islands.

The one thing we also did each time we were in Hawaii was go to the beach—every single day. Even last year, when he was struggling with his walking due to his ALS, we still went to the beach every day. From our hotel to the area where we would go (the gay area is just past what’s called Queen Surf Beach—ironic, huh?), it was approximately one-quarter mile, so it took us a while to get there. He would tire easily, but along the walkway there were benches, and he’d say, “Bench coming up.” We’d stop until he had enough energy to complete the trip. He was a real trooper.

One of our more memorable trips was our first time in Kauai. I had received approximately half of the money that our friend Victor left me when he died. I had been his power of attorney and had helped him a lot during his last months of life, and he wanted to make sure we had enough money for a down payment on a house (a dream of ours). Victor left me just under $50,000. On this trip, we stayed at a gay owned Bed & Breakfast. We had our own “unit” in the lower part of the main house (the separate cottage was already rented out when we made our reservations). There was a large backyard with an eight-foot tall privacy hedge made of hibiscus, a good size pool with Jacuzzi, and the gardens were in full bloom. We treated ourselves royally that trip, going out to eat at a nice restaurant each night; we took an hour-long helicopter ride around the entire island, and just had a grand time. If it hadn’t been as expensive as it was to travel to Kauai, we would probably have visited this island more often, but Waikiki fit our budget better, and once we discovered the Cabana at Waikiki (the gay resort hotel), we really did enjoy staying in a gay environment.

Waiting for shuttle after 30th anniversary

Eventually, I’d like to go back for a visit, but I’m not ready yet. It would be too painful. And I’d also like to scatter some of his ashes there, which I know he’d appreciate. I’m sure I can convince Tom to accompany me and we’ll have a ceremony; I’m not sure yet where I’ll scatter them, but I’m leaning toward Hanauma Bay, because he loved going into the water to see all the fish and coral that make it such a spectacular place.

Hitting you when you least expect it

I'm currently reading The Front Runner by Patricia Nell Warren, her trail-blazing novel from 1974 about a gay track coach and the three gay members of his track team, who transferred to his school after being kicked out of the University of Oregon because they were gay. It goes on from there, weaving her tale of love and gay rights activism, leading up the the 1976 Olympic Games being held in Montreal. I won't spoil it by giving away the ending; if you want to know, you'll have to read it. I recently read an article about Ms. Warren and it mentioned two sequels to this novel, which I was not aware of, so I ordered them from Amazon and figured I'd re-read The Front Runner again, because I have not read it since it came out way back when. Much to my surprise, while I was flipping the pages looking for my bookmark, I noticed a folded piece of paper towards the back of the book. When I opened it, it was Dennis's handwriting, detailing a couple of temp work assignments he had scheduled back in August of the late 1980s. The note did not have a year date on it, just 8/22 and 8/23. Just seeing this note in his handwriting led to a major crying spell as I sat in the car. I was already missing him a lot, and out of nowhere, this old piece of paper shows up. I don't know what to make of it. I'm probably going to be finding things like this for years, and my reaction will most likely vary depending on what I find. It was just a strange experience and I wanted to write about it, albeit briefly.

Life without him just sucks

A year ago at this time, we had been back from our visit with his family in Michigan. I was beginning to notice how difficult it was getting for him to do just about anything, especially walk. Hospice did an intake and immediately ordered him a walker, mostly due to the fact that he almost fell twice while she was doing the intake. I know I'm getting used to him being gone, but it doesn't make it any easier just getting through each day. I was under the impression that it was supposed to get easier, but that's just not happening. I miss him more now than I ever have; the sadness factor just keeps hanging around like a visitor that won't leave after an extended stay. I usually read for about an hour in my car each morning when I arrive at the office. (I get in early to get the free parking that is available on some of the streets.) I opened my book this morning, like usual, but I just couldn't bring myself to read any of it. So I decided to come into the office and blog for a while. It probably won't make it an easier day, but all these thoughts just keep rolling around in my head. I have to do something to get it out.

I keep thinking of the five stages of grief, based on the five stages of death that was coined by Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross years ago. I've read about the five stages—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—but I'm not sure I've actually experienced all five of them. I was never in denial that he died; I don't remember doing any bargaining—bargain for what? I've fully accepted the fact that he is gone and is not coming back, which leaves anger and depression—two of my favorite friends lately, or so it seems. Every once in a while, usually while at home, I just shout "Shit" or "Dammit" when I'm thinking about him (which of course is all the time). I can't go 60 seconds without thinking of him. I'm driving myself crazy. Maybe I should get a chauffeur—then he can drive me crazy. I've started getting angry again at just the least little annoyance. And of course, depression is never too far from my doorstep. Is that all my life is going to be the remainder of the time I'm on this planet? I'm doing the best I can, but the loss has cut me so deeply that the light at the end of the tunnel has been reduced to a flickering candle—hardly visible at all.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. Thought that might help—it didn't.

A rock & roll love story: the answers

After last week's fun entry, I thought I'd give you the artists to the referenced songs, in the order of appearance in the article:

Sweet Dreams (are made of this) - Eurythmics
Can't Stand Losing You - The Police
Take It Easy - The Eagles
Riders on the Storm - The Doors
Love Shack - the B52s
Living in the Past - Jethro Tull
Don't Stop - Fleetwood Mac
Let's Spend the Night Together - The Rolling Stones
Gypsy Eyes - Jimi Hendrix
Piece of My Heart - Janis Joplin
Brand New Lover - Dead or Alive
Down on Me - Janis Joplin
Victim of Love - The Eagles
Since You're Gone - The Cars
Still Crazy After All These Years - Paul Simon
Pump It Up - Elvis Costello
The Longest Time - Billy Joel
Urgent - Foreigner
Private Life - Grace Jones
The Long and Winding Road - The Beatles
Burning Down the House - Talking Heads
You are the Sunshine of My Life - Stevie Wonder
Gimme All Your Lovin' - ZZ Top
Imagine - John Lennon
Feels Like the First Time - Foreigner
The Tide is High - Blondie
Deacon Blues - Steely Dan
You Spin Me Round (like a record) - Dead or Alive
Changes - David Bowie
What's Love Got to Do With It? - Tina Turner
Here Comes the Rain Again - Eurythmics
A Hard Day's Night - The Beatles
You Promised Me - In-Grid
Manic Depression - Jimi Hendrix
Always on My Mind - Pet Shop Boys
Loves Me Like a Rock - Paul Simon
You Can't Always Get What You Want - The Rolling Stones
Touch Me - The Doors
Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin
Shake It Up - The Cars
Pride and Joy - Stevie Ray Vaughan
I Want a New Drug - Huey Lewis & the News
Purple Haze - Jimi Hendrix
Walking in the Rain - Grace Jones
Miss You - The Rolling Stones
Waiting for the Sun - The Doors
19th Nervous Breakdown - The Rolling Stones
Every Breath You Take - The Police
I Can't Stand Up for Falling Down - Elvis Costello
One Way or Another - Blondie
Bye Bye Love - The Cars
You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) - Sylvester
Life Without You - Stevie Ray Vaughan
Can't Get it Out of My Head - Kylie Minogue
Walking on the Moon - The Police
Hurts So Good - John Cougar Mellencamp
I Want to Hold Your Hand - The Beatles
Dirty White Boy - Foreigner
Same Old Song & Dance - Aerosmith
Fame - David Bowie
Sympathy for the Devil - The Rolling Stones
Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Pat Benatar
Reeling in the Years - Doobie Brothers
It's More Than a Feeling - Boston
Bye, Bye Baby - Janis Joplin
You Make Loving Fun - Fleetwood Mac
Kashmir - Led Zeppelin
Going to California - Led Zeppelin
Dream On - Aerosmith
Turn to Stone - ELO (Electric Light Orchestra)
Love is the Drug - Grace Jones
Listen to the Music - Doobie Brothers
One More Time - Joe Jackson
Black Friday - Steely Dan
Move Over - Janis Joplin
A Day in the Life - The Beatles
The Grand Illusion - Styx
Only the Good Die Young - Billy Joel
Life in the Fast Lane - The Eagles
Already Gone - The Eagles
Sweet Emotion - Aerosmith
Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac
Hello, I Love You - The Doors
Road to Nowhere - Talking Heads
Whatever Gets You Through the Night - John Lennon
Once in a Lifetime - Talking Heads
Just What I Needed - The Cars
Break on Through - The Doors
Movin' Out - Billy Joel
Modern Love - David Bowie
Quiche Lorraine - The B52s
Love is a Stranger - Eurythmics

How many did you recognize?

Life is like music: a rock & roll love story

I thought I'd try something different today. As I've mentioned before, if it weren't for rock and roll lyrics and/or song titles, I wouldn't be able to describe my life. This morning I looked through my stack of CDs and wrote down songs that resonated with me while browsing. I then cut them into strips and put them into a small box. I'm going to draw them out at random and see if I can create a story based on what I draw. All song titles will be in italics, in case you want to figure out the artist. This could be fun...here goes:

Sweet Dreams (are made of this) and I Can't Stand Losing You so Take It Easy, the Riders on the Storm are on their way to the rescue. They're going to open their Love Shack because you've been Living in the Past. But Don't Stop, Let's Spend the Night Together, I'll look into your Gypsy Eyes and give you a Piece of My Heart. I don't want a Brand New Lover, so don't be Down on Me, I'm a Victim of Love. Since You're Gone, I'm Still Crazy After All These Years so I'll try to Pump It Up for The Longest Time because it's Urgent for my Private Life to continue on The Long and Winding Road or I'll be Burning Down the House. You are the Sunshine of My Life, so Gimme All Your Lovin' and Imagine that it Feels Like the First Time while The Tide is High. I may not have the Deacon Blues but You Spin Me Round (like a record) and it Changes me. What's Love Got to Do With It? Here Comes the Rain Again and it will be A Hard Day's Night because You Promised Me some Manic Depression because it's Always on My Mind.

He Loves Me Like a Rock he always said, because You Can't Always Get What You Want but you can Touch Me on the Stairway to Heaven and Shake It Up with Pride and Joy. I Want a New Drug that will create a Purple Haze while Walking in the Rain. I Miss You and I'm Waiting for the Sun to prevent my 19th Nervous Breakdown because Every Breath You Take is special to me. There are times I Can't Stand Up for Falling Down because One Way or Another it's Bye Bye Love, but You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) and Life Without You—Can't Get It Out of My Head while you're Walking on the Moon. It Hurts So Good that I Want to Hold Your Hand because you always were my Dirty White Boy. It might be the Same Old Song and Dance but Fame can bring Sympathy for the Devil, so Hit Me With Your Best Shot as I'm Reeling in the Years because it's More Than a Feeling—it's Bye, Bye Baby.

You know dear, You Make Loving Fun, even in Kashmir.  But we're Going to California, so Dream On and don't Turn to Stone because Love is the Drug. Let's Listen to the Music at least One More Time and on Black Friday we'll Move Over for A Day in the Life because in The Grand Illusion, Only the Good Die Young. This Life in the Fast Lane is Already Gone but our Sweet Emotion will make us realize that you have to Go Your Own Way.

Hello, I Love You while I'm on the Road to Nowhere, but like I always say: Whatever Gets You Through the Night. A love like we had is a Once in A Lifetime thing; it was Just What I Needed. You helped me Break on Through even while we were Movin' Out; we had Modern Love as you baked Quiche Lorraine and you could not say Love is a Stranger in our household.

Random thoughts

The main reason I started this blog was to use it as therapy for myself after the death of Dennis. Many times when I sit down to write, I have something in mind and it generally flows out of me onto the "paper"—it still seems strange to me that this is being read by people all over the world. But there's also times when I have no idea what to write. I feel like I have to write but I'm not sure what to say. I'm in one of those situations now, hence the title of this article.

As noted in my last entry, I've been feeling lonely lately and I suppose it's just another phase that I'm passing through in the healing process. I had another "first" today—I qualified for the finals of the 31st annual SFPA 9-ball Tournament. I won all four of my matches, only losing one game during the day (12/1 overall) to breeze through my bracket. When I got back home, I had no one to tell. Previously, as soon as I told him about it, Dennis would say, "Way to go, babe." And he wasn't here to say that to when I got home today, and that makes me tear up (like right now as I write this...god damn, I miss him). So once again, I'm happy and sad at the same time.

Oldest to youngest, L to R: Bud, Rick, Mary & John

My sister called the other day to let me know that what she's shipping to me will cost about $175 but not to worry, I can pay it whenever we know what the real cost was/will be. She had a space heater that Mom used, she didn't need it, and I can always use another one around here, as I don't have any heating to speak of but small heaters. It could come in handy. And she had to have an oil painting crated up so it wouldn't get damaged. It's a seascape (wave breaking over rocks at Land's End in San Francisco, based on a photo my Dad took back in 1967) that I painted when I was a senior in high school. It was good enough to be on display at the high school library for a semester along with other paintings that other students did—I was proud of it. Kind of nice to get it back; not sure where I'm going to hang it. My sister in law, Nancy (John's wife) took some photos of my siblings and me when we were at Mary's house after Mom's funeral. It was a fun evening, with each of us contributing stories about Mom, laughing, playing euchre, drinking wine, munching—all the things we've always done when we gather. The photos came out great; I've posted them on my Facebook page. Here's the best of the bunch. She also said she would be sending me some money from Mom's estate. It won't be much; my family never has had much money, so whatever she sends will be fine by me. I have no problem with Mom having spent it to maintain her life and lifestyle.

I'm still evolving, trying to figure out what the "new Rick" is going to be like. The half of me that is missing is going to take a long time to rebuild, and it will never get to the other 50% of what I'm missing. I'll have to settle for a smaller percentage. I still find myself talking to him all the time. I'm still in a state of disbelief that he's gone, though I know he is and I am learning to live with it, but it's so fucking difficult.

Loneliness creeps in like the fog

As regular as the fog is to San Francisco, the feeling of loneliness creeps into my life and at times, never seems to let go. The latest bout started Thursday night. I was reading the newspaper and when I read something interesting, I turned to tell Dennis about it. Of course, he's not there. "Shit, it sure is lonely around here," I say aloud. Then the tears start. Last night (Friday) brought its own set of problems. It's now 39 weeks since he passed and Friday nights still are difficult. I am learning to live with the fact that he's not here anymore, but "getting over it" is just not going to happen. After all this time, I still can't believe he's gone. With Mom's recent passing, I've lost two of the most important people in my life in the last nine months and I'm just numb. Just when I thought 2010 was the lousiest year of my life, 2011 is turning into a pretty rotten year as well. Everything seems so trivial now. The roller coaster ride that is my life continues unabated.

After effects

Mom in August 2008

I just got back last evening, coming home from Mom's funeral and four days in Michigan with family. I'm still trying to figure out my reaction to Mom's death. It's totally different from my feelings and grief over the passing of Dennis. Mom died Monday September 12 and I have yet to cry. I've gotten the sniffles a few times and my eyes have teared up, but no "real" crying has occurred. In fact, I was the steadfast "rock" of the family this week. It probably boils down to the fact that I have never been fond of funerals and all their ceremony—the open casket "viewing" night, all the comments people make, like "doesn't she look good," "she looks like she's sleeping," etc. I mean, come on. How ridiculous! That earth suit in the casket is by no means my Mom. She never wore that much make up in her life while here, so why is it they do it when she's gone? Wednesday evening was the "viewing" night; numerous friends and relatives showed up. I actually enjoyed myself while visiting with people I had not seen in literally years. I was given the task of sorting through a large box of photographs and picking out the ones we used for two photo boards (provided by the funeral home). I had a blast going through those photos, choosing a variety of activities that Mom had participated in throughout her lifetime. I even came across one where she had dressed up for Halloween! None of us siblings had ever seen the photos before; I chose the one where she was "posing" instead of just standing there in her costume—a clownish type outfit, including hat and makeup. It was hilarious; I literally screamed like a little schoolgirl when I saw it. "Look at this photo I just found," I yelled out. We all burst into uncontrollable laughter and all agreed that I would use that as one of the photos. I'll post the photos of the photoboards as soon as my brother forwards them to me (he had taken shots with his cell phone so he could send them to his two kids back in Washington state). I centered large 8x10 photos of Mom in the middle of the boards then surrounded each photo with the smaller photos. Both boards were enjoyed by everyone who came to the viewing, as well as the luncheon we had after the funeral.

Mom was a member of the Catholic church (why so, I cannot figure out), so she had wanted to have a funeral mass provided by St. Francis Church in Traverse City. The booklet had the poem I brought with me on the cover, which brought a smile to my face. It was the poem I've posted in a previous article on this blog; I had received it during my sessions with the grief group. The only other highlight of the church ceremony was the narrative that the priest wove from material we provided about Mom. He actually did a very nice job with that part, as he talked about her life. The rest of the Catholic crap was a big thumbs down as far as I was concerned. While the rest of the family was crying their eyes out, I was putting my arms on their shoulders to comfort them, while I remained dry-eyed. It's not that I wasn't sad; to me, Mom passed the way a lot of people do—late in life (she was 86). It was an entirely different scenario from when Dennis died. He was a part of my everyday life, whereas Mom was part of my life, but not on a daily basis. Big difference.

I loved you Mom; you taught all of us valuable life lessons, and I appreciate all you did for me while you were here.

Rest in Peace: Mom

My Mom passed away Monday. She was 86, lived a long and happy life. She's no longer in pain, for which I am very appreciative. And it wouldn't surprise me, when she crossed over, Dad, her sister (my Aunt Betty) and Dennis were all there to help her transition. And since Mom loved Dennis's quiche so much, he probably had one ready and waiting for her. Thanks to her for all the great things she did for me and my siblings over the years. You could not ask for a more supportive mother; she loved Dennis as one of her own children, and for that, I will be eternally grateful. Love you, Mom.

The Early Years — Part 8

The last time I wrote in the "Early Years" series, we had just arrived in San Francisco, found our first apartment and became true San Franciscans. One of the first things we did after moving into the apartment was to drive the station wagon we had used to get to SF down to LA and deliver it to the ex-wife of one of Dennis's former highway drivers. We got that out of the way, bought our first Fast Pass (only $20 back in 1983; it's $60 now) so that we could have unlimited rides on MUNI, SF's transportation system. We bought a MUNI route map and started exploring the city as if we were tourists. After all, we were now community members and it would do us good to investigate what seemed like home even before we crossed the Bay Bridge into the city. We went everywhere—Marin Highlands so we could see the city through the Golden Gate Bridge, Coit Tower, Twin Peaks, Golden Gate Park, Ocean Beach, the Embarcadero—if it was a famous landmark, we went and saw it. We played tourists for about a month, then I decided I had to find a job so that we didn't run entirely through the money we received from the sale of the house. Dennis wanted to pursue his artwork and see if he could make it as an artist. Our roommate Ricky Bowerman had used a temp agency when he came to town, so he gave me the name of his contact down there, I went and registered. I guess I must have impressed her, as she gave me an assignment that very day. My first temp job was with Blue Cross of California as an administrative assistant and it worked out so well that they offered me full time employment less than 90 days later.

Less than one month after arriving, Dennis suffered through one of his grand mal seizures. Luckily, Ricky was with him and caught him as he was falling and he didn't injure himself too badly on the sidewalk. Up to that point in his life, the only time he had seizures was after something "big" had happened in his life. The first one I witnessed was a few weeks after we became partners; this was the second one. Before he died in December 2010, he had a total of 12 seizures throughout our 30 years together. After his recovery, he continued doing his artwork as he wanted to have a good supply on hand to either find a gallery to display them, or at least have enough to attend one of the street fairs that are prevalent in SF during the summer months. He bought booth space at the May 1984 Haight Street Fair, as it was in our neighborhood and would be somewhat easy to get to, set up and display his work. It was a glorious sunny day that Sunday in May, and Dennis thoroughly enjoyed himself as he tended his booth. Unfortunately, he did not sell one single item. Everyone who stopped and looked admired what he had done, he was in his element in explaining how he created each one, and truly enjoyed himself in spite of the fact that he had no sales to show for it.

One of the highlights of living in our first apartment was that we met Donna Blow, who lived in the apartment directly under us. The three of us became fast friends and to this day, she is still one of my closest friends, along with her partner Nancy and their son Joshua. On May 6, 1984, the Broadway musical La Cage aux Folles made its West Coast premiere at the Golden Gate Theater in downtown SF. The three of us decided to do it up royally as Dennis and I rented tuxedos and Donna looked spectacular in a swanky blue dress. We sashayed our way through the crowd, had a blast at the theater, then went to a fancy restaurant afterwards for a late dinner with the rest of the "theater crowd." As you can see from the photos, we looked pretty snazzy, if I do say so myself.

Running on empty

It's a good thing I'm a rock and roll fan, because it seems my life is nothing but song lyrics. The latest is "Running on Empty" an old song by Jackson Browne. No matter how much time has passed, I still feel like my life is an empty shell. This bit about going through life without Dennis is nothing but a fucking drag. Yeah, I enjoy my friends as much as I always have, but just having friends is not enough. I swear I sigh at least twelve times an hour; if you extrapolate that out into days and/or weeks, I sigh over 1,300 times per week. I know that Venice, Italy has its Bridge of Sighs, but believe me, it has never sighed as much as I do. I feel like I’m the king of sighs—or in my case, maybe that should be the queen of sighs. My life has turned into one giant sigh, and there’s no end in sight.

Does this happen with everyone who has lost the love of their lives? I doubt if I will ever know that answer, but it sure does happen to me. I suppose one of the reasons I’m having so much trouble now is the fact that my Mom is not doing well at all. She’s had several strokes since she retired more than 20 years ago, she’s 86 now, and her health is declining. In particular, her short-term memory has just about disappeared altogether. I called her on Labor Day just to chat for a while, and she could not hold a conversation with me. My sister had warned me about it, but I didn’t realize how bad it was until I started talking with her. She had no trouble understanding anything that I was saying, but she could not relate anything at all about what is going on in her life at the moment. She was recently in the hospital, and they discovered her back pain was being caused by a herniated disc. In treating that condition, they found fluid in her lungs, so that was something else that had to be treated. Add to that her constant urinary tract dysfunction and you’ve got a person who is at the end of her rope. The last time Dennis and I visited her (in summer of 2008), all she talked about was how she couldn’t figure out why she was still here. All she wanted to do was go to bed and not wake up. Considering that was three years ago, it doesn’t surprise me that she appears to be readying herself to die. According to the daily email I get from my sister, Mom asked to speak with a priest yesterday. She’s refusing to eat, doesn’t want to take her medications, and generally is very depressed. Only time will tell, but I feel she’s getting ready to pass.

 
I’m not anywhere near being “over” Dennis passing away, and now this on top of it. No wonder my blood pressure has become so difficult to maintain at the levels my cardiologist wants. What was that old movie? Stop the World, I Want to Get Off...that sounds about right.
 

31st anniversary

It's going to be a long, difficult day. This is the first time I've "celebrated" our anniversary without him being here. One year ago today, we were flying back to Detroit to spend time with his family. His brother John was coming in from the Phoenix area and his two sisters, Sandie & Eileen, live there. It was the first time they'd all been together since 1998. It was a very special long weekend (5 days) and we really enjoyed ourselves. We didn't know it at the time, but it was the last time we all got together, because he died in December. I'm using one of my personal days today, so no work for me today. I'm going to be around the house all day, digging out old photos, remembering, crying, just endlessly thinking about him and our life together. Eventually I'll be able to enjoy this day, but today I'm just sad. I miss him so much.

A happier time - 20th anniversary in Waikiki

I haven't been to our favorite restaurant since he died, so tonight two of my closest friends and I are going to go there; I'll try to enjoy it, but just getting through it is the main goal. I don't know if "enjoy" is really in the equation. In fact, just getting through this first year without him has been a persistent goal. A few more ruts to get through and before you know it, one year will have passed by. I've decided that I don't want to spend the Christmas holidays here at home, so I'm going to Palm Springs over those few days and will spend them with my friend Des. I just can't face being alone in the house at that time.

Relapse

Even though I've been feeling real well ever since I got back from visiting both families last month, an old feeling has been creeping into my psyche—relapse. I'm attributing it to the entire month of August, which was Dennis's least favorite month of the year. The biggest pitfall of the month was just this past Thursday, which was the two-year anniversary of when we received his diagnosis of ALS. In my own mind, I've always referred to it as his "death sentence"—because that's what it was (even though I never mentioned that to Dennis, he probably would have agreed with me). Anyone who receives this diagnosis is in the same boat, and Noah is not the captain. Not that it's going to do us any good, but this past week also saw researchers at Northwestern University announce that they feel they've discovered what actually causes ALS, which is a huge leap forward in researching and understanding of this disease.

Why a relapse now? Who knows; I certainly don't. Friday night I was trying to decide what to have for dinner, but before I could start, I had to unload the dishwasher. I still don't remember what my mind frame was at the time or what thoughts crept into my mind, but in the middle of putting away the dishes, I just totally lost it and had the biggest crying spell I've had in recent memory—not just a crying spell, more like a wailing spell. I guess this is just more of the grieving process—you never know what's going to hit you when you least expect it. And of course the feelings of relapse will continue this week, what with our 31st anniversary approaching. How the hell can I "celebrate" our 31st anniversary without him being here? I know that eventually I will be able to have pleasant thoughts about our anniversary, but this first one without him is really hitting me hard. I am so thankful that I have wonderful friends—Tom, Donna & Nancy, Joshua—who will be with me that evening. I'll need their shoulders because I anticipate more wailing on my part. They should all wear vinyl clothing so the tears will roll off instead of sinking in. Who wants to sit around a restaurant with wet shoulders? Just thinking about this Thursday reduces me to tears. Maybe I'll get lucky; all this "pre-crying" might make it easier to get through the night without wailing away too much. It actually did work previously—I didn't "lose it" as much as I thought I would when I went back for the family visit. I had tears, but not as many as I'd imagined beforehand. Only time will tell. But in the meantime, you'd still be smart to buy stock in Kleenex.

Death sentence

Today, August 25, represents the two-year anniversary when we received Dennis's ALS diagnosis. Needless to say, when you get that particular diagnosis, that's exactly what it is: a death sentence. I knew it immediately when the doctor said "ALS" and asked us if we knew what it was. I did but Dennis didn't. When he mentioned "Lou Gehrig's disease" Dennis acknowledged that he had heard of the disease, but still didn't realize what had just been handed to us. This is one of those "pit days" that I have alluded to in previous posts. I know I'll get through it, but it still sits heavily on my mind. Two years ago, it was a Tuesday, so after receiving the diagnosis, we had to go to our regular Tuesday night pool match. Talk about a lack of concentration—pool didn't seem all that important any longer, not that it was ever "important" to begin with—just an activity we both enjoyed and something we could do together.

Not much else to say. I just had to get it out because I'm going to be dealing with it all day long. Things like this creep into my mind no matter what I do to discourage them from their intrusion. Shit...