Kicking furiously, I claw my way to the surface and burst through the water, gulping the sweet tasting air as only someone who is coming from the abyss can realize.
The above sentence pretty much describes my current feelings. The trip from which I've recently returned—facetiously called "Rick's family grief tour"—has brought about profound changes in my entire being. This past Tuesday night is a perfect example. It was sign-up night for the fall season in my pool league. The captain of the team signs everyone up by submitting his roster, so I didn't have to go down for it, knowing I'd be accounted for by Bob. I just wanted to attend so that I could visit with many friends who would be there. I wasn't disappointed, as I circulated and visited with a couple dozen people as I sipped my way through my one beer for the night. Numerous people commented that "I look great" or "you really look happy." It's been at least two years since "happy" has been part of my vocabulary. But I can see how they arrived at those comments—I really do feel "better" since I got back. Grieving with both my family and Dennis's family has given me the extra strength that has been lacking these last seven months since he died.
Using pool as a pertinent example, I feel like I managed to get through the spring season, whereas now, I'm actually looking forward to the upcoming season. No more "just get through it"—I'm excited—and that's a whole new ballgame. I played in a single-elimination 9-ball tournament yesterday and managed to play my way to third place, only losing to the man who won the tournament. I came back from a 4/2 deficit to grab third place with a 5/4 win. In the recent past, I'd be lucky if I even won a match. I'm beginning to enjoy life again. I also realize that there will still be many days in my future in which I'll be a basket case, but I'll approach those days knowing they're coming and deal with them as they arise. I now know I will get through them. One day in particular is fast approaching—what would have been our 31st anniversary on September 1st. I'm going to take a personal day and not go to work that day, a friend told me the other day that he'd be more than happy to come over and spend some time with me that day, and I've decided that I want to go to dinner at La Mediterranee, our favorite restaurant, with my good friends Tom, Donna & Nancy and their son Joshua. If Dennis and I were going to celebrate, that is what we most likely would have done, so with a little help from my friends, I will survive the day.
The next five months do hold some pitfalls, but I'll just imagine a trampoline at the bottom of each pit and jump right back up and get on with my life. I know he'd want me to be happy, but sometimes it takes "happy" awhile to arrive.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
A visit with the families
Continuing my tale during my visit to Michigan, on Wednesday July 13, I drove from Sandie's to Traverse City in the northern part of the state to visit my family as well. I arrived about 2:30pm, called Mom's house and my brother Bud answered. "Where are you?"
"I'm at Mom's old trailer, because I knew how to get here. I don't know where her new place is since she moved into the assisted living center. Come on over and I'll follow you back. See you in a few minutes."
A couple of minutes later, Bud drove up in his truck, I hugged him through the window, then followed him to Mom's new place. It's a good thing I did it this way because I thought she was further down the road to the right of her old place, but it turned out she was just across the street and to the left. In addition to seeing Bud, his youngest son Bill was also waiting at Mom's. I had a nice visit getting caught up with them. They left about an hour and a half later as they had to return to Muskegon. A few hours later, my sister Mary arrived. She had been playing golf with her son, something they do every Wednesday. I was going to be staying at Mary's house, so we left shortly after she arrived to have dinner. I told Mom I'd be back in the morning to spend the day with her.
When I arrived back at Mom's the following morning, she was still in the dining area of the facility. She introduced me to the other people at her table—90 year old George, Jack (who was also in his nineties) and then to Doris—who is 107! All three of them were quite talkative and all remembered my name the next time I saw them. I spent the day with mom and then about 4pm, we went up to Mary's for dinner. Her son (my nephew Rich), his wife Jen and their two kids Emma (12 years old) and Nicholas (9 years old) all joined us. During our visit, I asked Emma if she remembered Dennis, as it had been 3 years since he and I had seen them. She said, "I remember a very tall man, but that's about it."
I said, "You have a good memory. That's who we're talking about." Nick only had a vague memory of him.
Rich then went on to relate a memory of Dennis. He said, "The thing I remember most about Dennis is one time when you were visiting Grandma and Grandpa at their house on Keystone Road, he and I went for a walk on their property down to the river at the back of the yard. I don't remember exactly how old I was but I was probably about 9 or 10. We were looking for different pieces of driftwood. He was very patient and such a good teacher. He told me I had a good eye when I picked up a piece and he said, 'This looks like a bird.' "
After telling that story, I asked him to write down that memory in my book, which he did, adding that he always loved hanging around with him when we were visiting. He also said "thanks for being such a great guy and for taking care of my uncle."
Jen also signed the book, relating that when she and Rich were planning their wedding and their future together, they looked for other couples to use as examples of marriage. They kept coming back to Uncle Rick and Dennis. She wrote, "You both showed such great love for each other and your enduring commitment was inspiring. Your example showed us what it meant to be a couple and to be a team. Thank you both so much for showing the world unconditional love."
Mary also signed the book, relating, "Dennis, I don't make a lot of homemade pies any more, but when I do, it's always with your pie crust recipe!" She went on to say, "I remember when we had the family reunion at my mobile home in Grand Rapids. One of the nights you were there you asked if you could 'mess around' in my kitchen. I'll never forget the amazing meal you 'threw' together with ingredients I didn't even know I had. I'll always be thankful to you for giving my brother the amazing love that I wanted for him. You are the other half of him and always will be. You took a little piece of my heart with you into your peaceful place. Love you bunches."
After reading these entries, I'm very glad I took the time to drive the 500-mile round trip to see my family. It was the first opportunity I had to grieve with my family and I can feel the difference in myself already.
I headed back to Sandie's on Friday morning, arriving early afternoon. She and I went to look for wrapping paper for the wedding gifts we each had purchased earlier in the week. After making our purchases, including cards, we drove back to her house and wrapped the gifts. The wedding was to take place the next day.
Jeff and Stephanie's wedding took place at the Dearborn Inn, a luxury hotel that specializes in hosting wedding parties. Upon arrival, Jeff and his family were in the ornate lobby of the hotel. Jeff gave me a big hug and told me how much he appreciated that I had come and expressed his condolences of his Uncle Denny's passing. It was an outdoor wedding and unfortunately for the guests, a heat wave had begun in Detroit. It was 91 degrees, but the ceremony was pretty short so we didn't suffer too much in the sweltering sun. The area where hors d'oeuvres were served was sheltered by shade while the wedding photos were being taken.
The wedding reception was held inside, cooled by air conditioning. There were 16 round tables set up for about 135 guests with the dance floor in the middle and the wedding party at the head of the room. I was at a table right next to the wedding party, sitting with John & Eileen (Jeff's parents), Sandie & Ray, the Vaccarellis and John's sister, Ruth. The entire evening was a blast. The food was superb; we each had been given champagne so we'd be able to toast the happy couple. Dancing was held after all the food had been served.
Eileen hosted a brunch the next day, and my brother John was able to attend, driving down from Oxford MI (about 30 miles to the north of where we were). The entire week was very beneficial to my mental health and I'm so very glad that I was able to attend.
"I'm at Mom's old trailer, because I knew how to get here. I don't know where her new place is since she moved into the assisted living center. Come on over and I'll follow you back. See you in a few minutes."
A couple of minutes later, Bud drove up in his truck, I hugged him through the window, then followed him to Mom's new place. It's a good thing I did it this way because I thought she was further down the road to the right of her old place, but it turned out she was just across the street and to the left. In addition to seeing Bud, his youngest son Bill was also waiting at Mom's. I had a nice visit getting caught up with them. They left about an hour and a half later as they had to return to Muskegon. A few hours later, my sister Mary arrived. She had been playing golf with her son, something they do every Wednesday. I was going to be staying at Mary's house, so we left shortly after she arrived to have dinner. I told Mom I'd be back in the morning to spend the day with her.
When I arrived back at Mom's the following morning, she was still in the dining area of the facility. She introduced me to the other people at her table—90 year old George, Jack (who was also in his nineties) and then to Doris—who is 107! All three of them were quite talkative and all remembered my name the next time I saw them. I spent the day with mom and then about 4pm, we went up to Mary's for dinner. Her son (my nephew Rich), his wife Jen and their two kids Emma (12 years old) and Nicholas (9 years old) all joined us. During our visit, I asked Emma if she remembered Dennis, as it had been 3 years since he and I had seen them. She said, "I remember a very tall man, but that's about it."
I said, "You have a good memory. That's who we're talking about." Nick only had a vague memory of him.
Rich then went on to relate a memory of Dennis. He said, "The thing I remember most about Dennis is one time when you were visiting Grandma and Grandpa at their house on Keystone Road, he and I went for a walk on their property down to the river at the back of the yard. I don't remember exactly how old I was but I was probably about 9 or 10. We were looking for different pieces of driftwood. He was very patient and such a good teacher. He told me I had a good eye when I picked up a piece and he said, 'This looks like a bird.' "
After telling that story, I asked him to write down that memory in my book, which he did, adding that he always loved hanging around with him when we were visiting. He also said "thanks for being such a great guy and for taking care of my uncle."
Jen also signed the book, relating that when she and Rich were planning their wedding and their future together, they looked for other couples to use as examples of marriage. They kept coming back to Uncle Rick and Dennis. She wrote, "You both showed such great love for each other and your enduring commitment was inspiring. Your example showed us what it meant to be a couple and to be a team. Thank you both so much for showing the world unconditional love."
Mary also signed the book, relating, "Dennis, I don't make a lot of homemade pies any more, but when I do, it's always with your pie crust recipe!" She went on to say, "I remember when we had the family reunion at my mobile home in Grand Rapids. One of the nights you were there you asked if you could 'mess around' in my kitchen. I'll never forget the amazing meal you 'threw' together with ingredients I didn't even know I had. I'll always be thankful to you for giving my brother the amazing love that I wanted for him. You are the other half of him and always will be. You took a little piece of my heart with you into your peaceful place. Love you bunches."
After reading these entries, I'm very glad I took the time to drive the 500-mile round trip to see my family. It was the first opportunity I had to grieve with my family and I can feel the difference in myself already.
I headed back to Sandie's on Friday morning, arriving early afternoon. She and I went to look for wrapping paper for the wedding gifts we each had purchased earlier in the week. After making our purchases, including cards, we drove back to her house and wrapped the gifts. The wedding was to take place the next day.
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| Me with Jeff and his brothers John & James |
Eileen hosted a brunch the next day, and my brother John was able to attend, driving down from Oxford MI (about 30 miles to the north of where we were). The entire week was very beneficial to my mental health and I'm so very glad that I was able to attend.
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| My brother John and I |
The Healy Family honors Dennis
I just got back yesterday from an absolutely wonderful nine days in Michigan, visiting with the Healys and with my own family as well. I arrived in Detroit on Saturday July 9th—and it was the fastest flight I've ever had getting into Detroit. When the flight attendant announced at the beginning of the flight that the flying time would be 3 hours and 35 minutes, I said, "No way." But guess what? She was correct! We got in an hour early so I arrived at Sandie and Ray's house at 5pm instead of my anticipated 6pm arrival. From the moment I arrived, I was once again treated as if I was a Healy, which always makes me feel so special. I love every one of them.
On Sunday, Sandie had about twenty people in for a memorial for Dennis. The big event of the day was planting the French lilac bush. It will eventually grow to eight feet tall and eight feet wide, so having a living memorial in honor of Dennis was very touching. Sandie's husband Ray introduced his sister Gaile, who then related tales of Dennis when he was in elementary school. The way I remember it, she was a teacher but I was told later that she was actually a volunteer at the arts and crafts class that Dennis attended. She'd meet him at the corner from his house and walk with him to the school. By the time she was done telling her story, I was already an emotional wreck—and then she introduced me. After taking a few deep breaths, I showed everyone a copy of the laminated memorial cards that I had had printed for his Celebration of Life Party that I held in January, and told them there was a stack of them inside and please take one as their personal memento of the day. I then showed them my memory book and related the tale of how I had searched for an entire week trying to find the appropriate book for people to write their memories of Dennis. I was in a Walgreen's store that I'm never in and while walking down the aisle the book practically shouted at me. I stopped and looked to my right and saw I was in the aisle that contained stationery. On the top shelf, I could see just about a 2 inch square of the corner of a book. The purple color jumped out at me; I had to stand on the bottom shelf to reach it but as soon as I pulled the book from the shelf, I knew it was what I had been looking for—a book with a predominantly purple background with a pattern on it. Purple was Dennis's "color" and I figured he had led me to it. Many people that were in attendance that day wrote their memories of Dennis, adding to the many entries already contained within it. I read them all when I returned home to San Francisco and of course many of the entries brought tears to my eyes.
I then told everyone about my attending a grief group. I related, "At the last session, we had been told to bring photos and a memento and we were each to relate our tale based on what we brought. I created a two-photo page—at the top was a photo of us from our honeymoon and at the bottom a photo of us when we had been at Sandie's last September as we celebrated our 30th anniversary. My memento was the Santa Claus candle that we had bought during our first Christmas together. Diana had brought photos and the memorial booklet that her partner Pamela had designed before she died. At the back of the book was a poem written by Henry Scott Holland, an Oxford Professor of Divinity. I have never been a fan of poetry, but when I read the poem, I felt Dennis was speaking to me, and here's what he said." I then went on to read the poem I have posted in a previous post on this blog. It was very emotional for me, but Gaile was standing next to me, and every time I got choked up (which was like the entire poem), she would squeeze my shoulder to encourage me to continue. By the time I finished reading the poem, there were few dry eyes on the patio.
Sandie's husband Ray was the next to speak. He stated, "For those of you who don't know, I want to thank Rick for the way he cared for Dennis. His love and care-giving were on full display when they visited us last September, and we are all extremely grateful for him and the way he took care of Dennis. He made sure Dennis took his meds, helped him with his walking and was always right there should something unforeseen happen. Thank you, Rick."
By the time he finished talking, I had tears running down my face. I then went around the patio and hugged everyone in attendance, thanking them for attending this very special memorial.
Dennis's nephew John, Erika's boyfriend Nick, Ray and his brother Kenny then planted the lilac bush. I didn't know it at the time, but later that week, John and Cindy Vaccarelli (dear friends of just about all the Healys, but especially of Sandie and Ray) presented me with an engraved rock to place under the bush. It reads: DENNIS - A new shining star, with a star engraved on the rock as well. Sandie, Ray, Dennis's nephew Scott and his partner Chuck, and I had a separate ceremony the following Sunday as we placed the rock next to the bush.
Both ceremonies will remain in my memories forever.
I then told everyone about my attending a grief group. I related, "At the last session, we had been told to bring photos and a memento and we were each to relate our tale based on what we brought. I created a two-photo page—at the top was a photo of us from our honeymoon and at the bottom a photo of us when we had been at Sandie's last September as we celebrated our 30th anniversary. My memento was the Santa Claus candle that we had bought during our first Christmas together. Diana had brought photos and the memorial booklet that her partner Pamela had designed before she died. At the back of the book was a poem written by Henry Scott Holland, an Oxford Professor of Divinity. I have never been a fan of poetry, but when I read the poem, I felt Dennis was speaking to me, and here's what he said." I then went on to read the poem I have posted in a previous post on this blog. It was very emotional for me, but Gaile was standing next to me, and every time I got choked up (which was like the entire poem), she would squeeze my shoulder to encourage me to continue. By the time I finished reading the poem, there were few dry eyes on the patio.
Sandie's husband Ray was the next to speak. He stated, "For those of you who don't know, I want to thank Rick for the way he cared for Dennis. His love and care-giving were on full display when they visited us last September, and we are all extremely grateful for him and the way he took care of Dennis. He made sure Dennis took his meds, helped him with his walking and was always right there should something unforeseen happen. Thank you, Rick."By the time he finished talking, I had tears running down my face. I then went around the patio and hugged everyone in attendance, thanking them for attending this very special memorial.
Dennis's nephew John, Erika's boyfriend Nick, Ray and his brother Kenny then planted the lilac bush. I didn't know it at the time, but later that week, John and Cindy Vaccarelli (dear friends of just about all the Healys, but especially of Sandie and Ray) presented me with an engraved rock to place under the bush. It reads: DENNIS - A new shining star, with a star engraved on the rock as well. Sandie, Ray, Dennis's nephew Scott and his partner Chuck, and I had a separate ceremony the following Sunday as we placed the rock next to the bush.
Both ceremonies will remain in my memories forever.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Holidays are tough
Most holidays in the U.S. are generally based on a 3-day weekend. And that's what makes them tough, at least for me. Dennis and I were never much into celebrating during these long weekends. The only thing it meant to me was it gave me another full day at home, without having to go to work, and it meant I could spend the entire day with him. We always had a running "whore" joke—we always made sure sex was involved in these 3-day weekends (but especially on the celebrated holiday on Monday) because I always got a kick out of the fact that my company was paying me for having the time off that day and I used that time off getting bonked by Dennis. We laughed about that many times over the years. Now, while it might be fun to remember such times, they come with a sadness attached because he's not here any longer and the day off now only reminds me of that fact. Ergo, holidays are tough.
I guess it's just part of that long road I'm traveling—by myself.
I guess it's just part of that long road I'm traveling—by myself.
The Early Years — Part 5
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| Just follow the sign upstairs |
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| Left to right: Bruce, Jerry Kocsis, Tom Wade (blurred), Judy Kocsis, unknown, Ron Devroy |
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| Dennis (middle in gray), talking to brother-in-law John, sister Eileen, Bruce |
Once we moved to San Francisco, our partying tradition followed. We didn't have any "super" parties until we bought the house in August of 1996. That December, our San Francisco tradition of having a holiday party started. We would always have an elaborate menu, turning the dining room table into a smorgasbord of tasty treats, including but not limited to, cheese empanadas, seafood sandwich rolls, deviled ham puffs, crab stuffed ham rolls, Swedish and porcupine meatballs, crab cakes, pumpkin cranberry bread, crab and cream cheese spread for the party-sized bread, deviled eggs, champagne punch—and that just covers what I can recall at the moment. All the goodies were hand-made by the two of us. I even went so far as using blank business cards as food labels so people would know what they were grabbing. It came in handy because people do have food allergies and we certainly didn't want someone who was allergic to nuts, for example, to eat something that would make them sick or potentially kill them. Having someone get sick is not too good for a party atmosphere.The last big party we threw was for our 25th anniversary. Even though our anniversary was in September, we celebrated it with friends at the annual holiday party in December. It was a memorable event. Our best friend, Tom Wade, made a heartfelt toast to us, even getting a big laugh from the crowd when he stated, "I've known Rick and Dennis for over 30 years, and I've always hated one thing about them." A big pause here for comedic effect, then he added, "They haven't gained a pound since I've know them."
I then took the floor, as I wanted to publicly express my love for Dennis. Looking at Dennis, who was standing next to me, I said, "I wanted to tell you this when we were in Hawaii during our anniversary in September, but I couldn't get the words out because I was too emotional. I'm going to try again, and if I break down in tears, at least I'm in a room full of friends instead of a room full of strangers in a restaurant." Holding my glass of champagne in the air, I continued, "Thank you for being with me the past 25 years, the happiest years of my life. You are my life and I love you with all my heart. I'm ready to go for another 25; how about you?" He nodded yes, gave me a big hug and kiss and we enjoyed the spontaneous applause from our friends. Little did either of us know at that time that we were only going to be given five more years together.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Rambling ravings
I feel another rambling mess coming. Emotionally, I've been all over the place lately—up, down and all around. Some of it is obviously left over from June 24th, the six month anniversary of the death of my darling Dennis. I leave this Saturday for Michigan, and do so with trepidation, but also with anticipation. I really am looking forward to seeing all the Healys; I've also decided that I will make the 500 mile round trip up to Traverse City to see my family as well, though I'll only be there for less than 48 hours. I will be able to see my entire family for the first time since about 2008, all on the same trip. The last few times we went back, we were not able to see everyone, so I'm hopeful that by seeing everyone, it will help me in the grieving process by getting the family component behind me. I've grieved for the past six months, but only with friends, though in reality, many of my friends are extended family, but it's not exactly the same as blood-related family. Knowing how emotional this trip is going to be, and believe me, I know there are many tears coming in the next couple of weeks, I truly feel that this trip will allow me to move forward, as I've been stuck with too much grieving by myself. I don't feel I can keep imposing on my friends everytime I have a breakdown—oh yes, the breakdowns are still occurring—a lot. This learning to live with only oneself as company is not easy after 30 years of having Dennis next to me. His presence—emotionally and physically—has been sustaining me all these years and I'm having a difficult time adjusting to life alone. I know I've said it before, but it's another 3-day holiday weekend and all it reminds me of is that I have an extra day off from work but I can't spend it with him like all the other times.
I know I'm getting used to life without him—and I sure don't like it—but the sadness component is still overwhelming. I still feel like my life is only going through the motions. I can't seem to find meaning to anything. This evolving half-person I've become is evolving even slower than Obama's evolving on same-sex marriage. But just saying "evolve already" just doesn't work. I have one more grief counseling session scheduled, right after I get back from my trip. We figured I'd have plenty to talk about, but to be perfectly honest, I still don't see where this "counseling" is helping. I find that writing in this blog is more helpful. Either way, I'm getting "stuff" out of me. The only difference is there's someone whose job it is to interpret what I'm saying. I just don't know.
I decided to play in a 9-ball tournament yesterday, something I normally don't do. I thought it might be fun just to do something different. Then I went and shot about as bad as I have ever shot in my life—so much for the "fun" factor. It just isn't as much fun if you're not shooting well. I don't mind losing that much, after all it is only a game, but I don't like playing lousy pool. That's more frustrating than anything. A few friends from the pool league were also there, and while chatting with Mark, he wanted to know if I was going to start dating or something along those lines. I just told him that I didn't have any immediate plans and in reality, didn't want to subject someone to the comparisons I would make. When you've already experienced the love of your life, dating just doesn't hold any interest—certainly not at this point in time, six months after he died. I did tell him that I might want to find a "fuck buddy" though, as physical needs can be filled without the emotional baggage a relationship would entail. But even that is far down the road.
I know I'm getting used to life without him—and I sure don't like it—but the sadness component is still overwhelming. I still feel like my life is only going through the motions. I can't seem to find meaning to anything. This evolving half-person I've become is evolving even slower than Obama's evolving on same-sex marriage. But just saying "evolve already" just doesn't work. I have one more grief counseling session scheduled, right after I get back from my trip. We figured I'd have plenty to talk about, but to be perfectly honest, I still don't see where this "counseling" is helping. I find that writing in this blog is more helpful. Either way, I'm getting "stuff" out of me. The only difference is there's someone whose job it is to interpret what I'm saying. I just don't know.
I decided to play in a 9-ball tournament yesterday, something I normally don't do. I thought it might be fun just to do something different. Then I went and shot about as bad as I have ever shot in my life—so much for the "fun" factor. It just isn't as much fun if you're not shooting well. I don't mind losing that much, after all it is only a game, but I don't like playing lousy pool. That's more frustrating than anything. A few friends from the pool league were also there, and while chatting with Mark, he wanted to know if I was going to start dating or something along those lines. I just told him that I didn't have any immediate plans and in reality, didn't want to subject someone to the comparisons I would make. When you've already experienced the love of your life, dating just doesn't hold any interest—certainly not at this point in time, six months after he died. I did tell him that I might want to find a "fuck buddy" though, as physical needs can be filled without the emotional baggage a relationship would entail. But even that is far down the road.
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