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.