Dusky

JoeA, What a wonderful thing you did to attend the Avon Cancer Walk. It's not easy to do these type of things in the early months of grief. Things like this provide us with a positive view of life - I'm glad you did it. The hills and valleys of grief remain, however activities such as this help us re-connect with others who have also lost a loved one. Peace, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Lily, Patty Ann, SusanK, Starkiss, KayC, Fred and LarryGirl, Well – this discussion hit a nerve. I devoted almost one full chapter of my book – plus some other sporadic mention of it in other places. The “Invisibility” we experience – this “dealing with un requested advice” was particularly disturbing to me. Following were (are) my thoughts on this subject – and are lifted directly from the one chapter in my book I referred to. Here is what those four pages of my book said: _____________________________________________________________________________ For at least six months following Jack’s death, the pendulum of grief swung feverishly, without break. Seeing how tormented I continued to be, a few well-meaning friends offered gentle, but misguided, guidance. “Just let it go,” they advised. “When you do, you’ll feel better.” They were being kind, but I believe they were thinking, Enough already, John. Get over it; it’s been months. All dwelling on Jack is doing is making you sad. Forget about him, and move on. They were ridiculing my grief! My life had been forever changed by Jack’s death. He was gone, and the person I once was went with him. I missed who I was with him; all that was left was this stranger in the mirror. The person I used to be was dead, and they expected me to move on. Where was I supposed to move on to? My friends’ advice wasn’t unique; they were just repeating what society keeps telling them about the proper way to handle mourning. It encourages people to “let go” of their loved ones because this is the only way grieving hearts find closure and peace. Society is wrong! You have to keep going, and allow yourself to be reborn as the new you: the you who has journeyed through mourning. I became annoyed—disgusted even—by some people’s resistance to my grief. Sometimes I received rigid and pious religious prescriptions for the correct way to handle grief. When I refused to do it the prescribed way, which is to “bury my past” and preclude Jack as a part of my future, I was accused of not being a man of faith. Again and again, I defended my belief that my future was not based on a buried past, but on a remembered past, our past. I defended my choice to rely on my deeply rooted spirituality, rather than on a specific religion, or the words in the Christian Bible. Our disagreements put distance between us. Unable to accept my grief, they backed away. But why? Why retreat from me? Because the weight of my sorrow became too much to bear? Because I reminded them of their own sorrow? Because they were afraid, and their fear isolated me from them? I Became Their Greatest Fear Some say that I can’t let go Gentle hearts that think they know Others say a buried past Is where you should now rest at last Others tell me that they know How my past should be “let go” How to grieve and how to cry How to feel and when and why Those who do not understand Have not been to this dark land When they could not see you here I became their greatest fear Friends who were the closest to us Fussed and cared and brought food to us Once you were no longer here I am now what they all fear Calls and contact used to flourish Constant tales to encourage Now the message is quite clear I am now what they all fear Those who do not understand Have not been to this dark land When they could not see you here I became their greatest fear For those who think they know it all And those who cannot make a call Letting go that’s what I must do But it’s not you who must go They will become my buried past It’s where they should now rest at last Letting go that’s what I must do But it’s not you who must go Those who do not understand Have not been to this dark land When they could not see you here I became their greatest fear There’s a saying that goes like this: “Grief rewrites your address book for you,” and my experience confirmed this. After I’d wasted too much energy responding to my critics’ advice to let go, and trying to get them to see pain my way, to understand that I expected my recovery to go on forever, I finally let go … of them. And I literally rewrote my address books. I removed names from my Christmas card and e-mail lists, and only kept contact information for family members and friends who understood the grieving process, or at least acknowledged pain without judging me. I also made a decision to close my ears to the chorus of misdirected advice, because I often became so frustrated with these people that I wanted to scream, “Leave me alone! Your grief is measured in much less time than mine!” Your Grief Is Measured In Much Less Time For many months, I stayed connected I shared, reached out, and felt respected But as the months and years have faded I know your heart is feeling weighted He was my bright shinning star His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar It’s not that I have changed my stance I speak of love and lost romance I write of tears and grief that’s molten Of broken hearts and futures stolen I talked of pain that’s here and real I made you think and made you feel I seldom left without a passage To lift your heart and send a message He was my bright shinning star His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar I have tried with so much passion To talk and teach and show compassion All this despite my own faith shaken My spirit crushed, feeling forsaken I tried to put you front and center To help you grieve and to remember But as the months and years have faded I know your heart is feeling weighted He was my bright shinning star His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar My recovery spans a lifetime Yours is measured in much less time He was my bright shinning star His loss, a stunning, jolting, jar Some of you don’t want to hear Of all the pain and all the fear Run from all that’s here and real Run and do not think or feel Some of you I’m gently leaving Letting go and sadly grieving I seldom leave without a passage To lift your heart, so here’s my message He was my bright shinning star His loss, a stunning jolting jar My recovery spans a lifetime Yours is measured in much less time Some of my friends and family members couldn’t walk the road of mourning with me, but many could, and they became the core of my support. These kind souls drew closer to me as they moved toward my grief. They sustained me with phone calls to ask how I was feeling—and they really meant, “How are you feeling?” They listened to my every word, and offered a proverbial shoulder to cry on. They extended invitations and opportunities for me to get out, and they complimented me on my strength of character, my ability to move forward, and on my devotion to Jack’s memory. They often remarked on my great capacity for fostering his legacy. I was humbled by their loving actions toward me, as well as overjoyed—and grateful beyond words—for all of their kindness. Because of them, I was up to every challenge put before me. I, for one, refuse to be "invisible" – despite societies demand to be just that. The above words from my book were my way of “dealing with un requested advice.” With love and peace, John – Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Jackietnd1, I'm glad my list could be of help to you - and - if you ever want to know any details about any of these books, prior to buying them, just let me know and I will try to remember what I can and pass along what I know. I have each and every one on my book shelf. I would do the same for any one else on this site as well. MartyT, My Dear Sweet Marty .... Thank you for your kind words. I am just thrilled that you enjoyed my book. I smile each time someone tells me how much they have enjoyed its message, and can feel the love expressed, which I will always have for Jack. Love, indeed, never dies. John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Scotty and JoeA, I read your posts on here and decided to send you this information in a brand new topic. It is a listing of books that may help you through these early weeks and months of grief. Reading can be a powerful means to assist you during this difficult time. I read each and every one of these books listed during the first two years following Jack's death which eventually lead me to writing my own book which I have talked about on this site in the last few weeks - "Finding My Banana Bread Man - A Journey Through Mourning". Following is the list of books that you may find useful. I found two of the ones I have listed below to be especially helpful. The first is called "Healing After Loss" by Martha Whitmore Hickman. If I remember correctly it was WaltC (member on this site) who first mentioned this particular book on here. It is especially helpful. I would also highly recommend "Letters to Kate" by Carl H Klaus. So many of these books are simply outstanding. I would recommend the healing power of the words of the books above, as well as the others listed (below), to assist you in the healing process. The rest of the world mistakenly think we are "better" just because we attempt to get back into a normal routine - but the truth of the matter is that we will mourn the death of our loved one forever - the pain will just get easier to adjust to. It will get better as time passes - but you will always grieve for the loss of your partner. Every tear you cry - every pain that seems unbearable - is simply a true indication of just how much you loved your lost love. The depth of your current pain, is in fact, a mirror image of how much and how deep you loved - wear the tears and pain as a badge of honor. Here is the list of books that helped me so much in the past. I hope you find that some of these readings help you as well. I have put an asterisk next to a few I found especially useful in addition to the two I mentioned above: Grief Bibliography 1. Surviving the death of your Spouse Deborah S. Livinson 2. Caregiving Beth McLeod 3. Grief’s Outrages Journey Sandi Caplan Gordon Lang 4. Life and Loss Bob Deits 5. Chicken Soup for the Grieving Soul Jack Canfiled Mark Victor Hanson 6. Wherever your go – There you are Jack Kabat-Zinn 7. Unattended Sorrow Stephen Levine 8. Surviving Grief and learning to Live again Dr. Catherine M. Sanders 9. The Mourning Handbook Helen Fitzgerald 10. Healing your grieving heart Alan D Wolfelt Ph. D. 11. Life Lessons Elizabeth Kubler-Ross David Kesler 12. How to go on living when someone dies Theresea Rando Ph. D. 13. A year to live * Stephen Levine 14. Letting go with love Nancy O’Connor Ph. D. 15. The Dying Time Joan Furman David McNabb M.S.N., RN 16. Companion through the darkness * Stephanie Ericsson 17. Don’t let death ruin your life Jill Brooke 18. A time to grieve Carol Staudacher 19. Too soon old too late smart * Gordon Livingston, M.D. 20. The art of Forgiveness, Lovingness and Peace * Jack Kornfield 21. Grieving mindfully Samett M. Kumar 22. When your Spouse dies Catherine L. Curry 23. Five good Minutes Jeffery Bantley, M.D. Wendy Millstine 24. Healing After Loss * Martha Whitmore Hickman 25. The Power of NOW Eckhart Tolle 26. Gay Widowers – life after the death of a partner Michael Shernoff 27. A Journey through Grief Alla Renee Bozarth.Ph. D. 28. When Bad things happen to Good people Harold S. Kushner 29. The Grief Recovery Handbook * John W. James & Frank Cherry 30. Ambiguous Loss Pauline Boss 31. The Precious Present * Spencer Johnson 32. Life after Loss * Raymond Moody & Dianne Arcangel 33. Writings to heal the Heart Susan Zimmerman 34. The Grief Recovery Handbook John James & Frank Cherry 35. When Bad things Happen to Good People Harold Kushner 36. Stillness Speaks Eckhart Tolle 37. In Lieu of Flowers * Nancy Cobb 38. The Other Side and Back Sylvia Browne 39. Blessings from the Other Side Sylvia Browne 40. Change Your Mind and Your Life Will Follow Karen Casey 41. The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying * Sogyal Rinpoche 42. The Loss of a Life Partner Carolyn A. Walker 43. Life on the Other Side Sylvia Brown 44. Transcending Loss Ashley Prend 45. The Heart of Grief Thomas Attig 46. Letters to Kate * Carl H. Klaus 47. When Men Grieve Elizabeth Levang, Ph. D. 48. The Five Things We Cannot Change David Richo 49. Awakening from Grief John E. Welshons 50. Love Lives On Louis LaGrand, PH.D 51. What Buddha Would Do? Franz Metcalf 52. The Book of Awakening Mark Nepo 53. About Alice Calvin Trillin 54. Forgiveness – A Bold Choice for a Peaceful Heart Robin Casarjian 55. Getting to the other Side of Grief Susan J Zonnebelt-Smeenge, R.N., Ed.D Robert C. De Vries,D.Min., Ph.D 56. Grief Steps Brook Noel 57. Life after Death - The Burden of Proof Deepak Chopra 58. The Essence of ZEN – An Anthology of Quotations The Five Mile Press 59. Pocket Positives of Living – An Anthology Summit Press Quotations Hope some of these reading will help. John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Teny, Sending you best wishes for a speedy recovery my friend. Hope you are feeling better soon. John - Dusky is may handle on here Love you Jack

KayC, Your narrative on how difficult a road we travel when losing a mate is right on target. Well stated my dear friend - and accurate in each and every word. Your friend, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Suzanne, I am grateful the book has provided confirmation that what you faced others have as well. It was one of the reasons I wrote it. I knew others had the same type of experiences when caring for their loved one. You are not alone. Peace and Love, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

WaltC, Three years is a very long time without the person you loved so much. I'm glad your here among friends. the music site you sent is beautiful - filled with great music - thanks for sharing. John - Dusky is my handle on here. Love you Jack

KayC, I found the artists name and title to the song - but thank you for supplying it. I found a link which gives the entire song and attached it to my web site - http://www.findingmybananabreadman.com You can find it under the tab "inspiration" - toward the bottom of that section. Also here is the direct link: http://www.myspace.com/keithanderson Thanks so much for the information. Peace, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

KayC, Do you know the name of the song and who sings it? The lyrics say it all for what we all feel. Thank you for sharing these beautiful words. John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

KayC, I know these feeling. I can recall just after Jack died that I hoped I would someday have the same type of love someday that I experienced with Jack. We had talked years before he died (when we were both healthy) that we would always want the other to go on. However “going on” and attaining the same type of love you had with that special someone in your life are two different things. I have come to realize that I can accept others in my life – even a special someone – but that person will never be able to replace what I lost. Furthermore, I have reached the point where I am “ok” with that. I no longer want to replace what I had. It was special and unique. Jack was special and unique. Nothing and no one can replace him. Now that makes me smile – to know I had such a love. It was not that long ago that these thoughts would only bring me tears. I have felt those moments of Jacks presence – as you have felt George’s – and what a comforting feeling that love still provides me. I offer you this quote by Aeschylus that appears in my book: “He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of god.” Love and Peace, John – Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

William, I do recall the song you mentioned. I find music to be healing as well as the words of things like "My Wish List." Peace, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

William, You do not need my permission to print the "Wish List." It was something from and unknown author that appeared on the internet. I have even used it in my book and no permission was necessary - not even possible since it was "author unknown." And yes - Love is certainly a part of grief - it's why we feel the way we do. If it were not for the love there would be no pain. The strength of that pain is our validation that we loved deeply. Peace, John - Dusky is my handle on here. Love you Jack

Derek, I recall when you first started posting on this site. It is hard to believe it has been two years - the years just slip away and somehow we find a way to move forward - but never forget. You have provided a beautiful voice to this site. None of us want to be here - but your presence has been a benefit to all. Peace and healing, John - Dusky is my handle on here

To all, There have been many times in the past three years when this site has been a salvation for me - the middle of the night when no one else was available. For example, I always knew that I could come to this site and read about people experiencing a similar pain. You have all been dear friends to me. I too have spent some months and weeks away from these pages, in a contributing fashion, however I have always kept abreast of posts being made. Sometimes it is easier to post than other times, since time changes the ebb and flow of what we are experiencing. The person we all were before our loved one died - our spouse, mate or partner - has changed us forever. We will never be that person again and this is exactly why it is so difficult for those who knew the "old" us to adapt to the "new" us - the only "us" that remains. We struggle to find out who we are and those who used to know us struggle to come to term with the changed "us." Death has transformed us – forever. There was a piece of information that appeared on the internet some time ago, that struck me as meaningful. It was by an unknown author and listed “The Wish List” for all of us who are grieving. It was so meaningful to me I included “The Wish List” in my book. It lists many of the obstacles that we have all encountered repeatedly during the loss of our mates – and the very last one listed is a plea to those who knew the old us to remember the following. It states the “last wish” this way…. “I wish you understood that grief changes people. I am not the same person I was before my beloved died, and I will never be that person again. If you keep waiting for me to ‘get back to my old self,’ you will stay frustrated. I am a new creature with new thoughts, dreams, aspirations, values and beliefs. Please try to get to know this different me – I’m the one who’ll be here from now on.” When I come to this site I there are people who know the person I have become – and I am greatly for each of you being here for me – even when some of those days I have been a silent participant – reading and not posting. What a great group of human beings you all are – and what a helpful web site Marty has created for each of us. I am grateful for this site. I am grateful for Hospice of the Valley. I am grateful for each of you. You have each made this a journey that did not have to be experienced alone. Love and peace, John – Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

My Dear Grief Site friends, At the end of July 2008, Jack will have been gone three years and it has taken nearly all of that time to write a book, which is a tribute to him. It has been a wonderfully healing and cathartic experience to put my thoughts and feelings down on paper. The book has now been printed and available for purchase. However, please remember that this is in no way a solicitation for you to go out and buy this book. You can read it free of charge simply by going to a local library, giving them the title of the book and the ISBN number and requesting them to purchase the book. This way you could read it free of charge. This endeavor has never been about money. It has always been about healing me and helping others heal. It is about remembering Jack and fostering his legacy. For those of you who wish to order the book there are a number of ways to do so: 1.The publisher is Wheatmark in Tucson, Arizona, and the special link via the internet for ordering the book is: (Click on the link below and it will take you there) http://www.wheatmark.com/merchant2/merchan...e=9781604940114 This is probably the easiest way to obtain the book - and at the moment, this is the only way to order the book – through Wheatmark – the publisher. During the course of the next two weeks, more action will be taken by Wheatmark to make the book available through other means. Wheatmark is now in the process of making the book available to online bookstores through the wholesaler, Ingram (a main bookstore distributor). Then various book stories pick up the information from Ingram automatically over the course of about 2-3 weeks after Wheatmark has advised them about the books availability. The book will then be available as indicated below at these other sites: 2.Through any of the following internet sites - Amazon.com, Borders.com, Barnes & Nobles.com, Target.com, and BookAMillion.com. 3.You should also be able to go into any of your local bookstores – provide them with the title of the book, author, ISBN number and they should be able to order the book for you. Title: “Finding My Banana Bread Man – a journey through mourning.” Author: John R. Davis ISBN #: 978-1-60494-011-4 Cost: $20.95 – Available only in paperback Length: It is 251 pages in length including 40 pictures of Jack and my life together. Web Site: http://www.FindingMyBananaBreadMan.com – This web site has also been established to promote this book. You can also order the book via this web site, as there is a link within this site that will take you to the publisher (Wheatmark) to purchase the book. The web site is also a visual tribute to Jack’s memory. (Click on the link above - or cut and paste it is necessary - and it will take you there) Although the site was established to promote the book, it is so much more and is filled with helpful hints, inspiration and music. Especially note the “Inspiration” tab as it is filled with music to help you heal. Many of the pictures in the “Picture” tab also take you to music. ________________________________________________________________ At times, this book was very difficult to write. However, for every tear that was shed in creating this memoir there was also a smile and splendid memory of Jack. The book was written for the following multiple reasons: 1.To provide a living legacy (a written history) of Jack. He was definitely a personality worth remembering. This book does that. 2.To provide a means to heal myself – which it has most successfully accomplished. 3.To allow other grieving souls a blue print as to how to grieve. We American males have so much to learn about how to grieve. 4.To foster the ideals of healing by using the gift of recall – and remembering - as opposed to “letting go”, ”burying the past” and “running from a loss.” 5.To provide documented evidence of the tragic events that unfolded in Jack and my life – and to show that in spite of it all neither Jack nor I were victims of what happened but rather victors when all was said and done. 6.To provide as best I can my indignation over the lack of funding for the type of cancer that took Jack from us, and to point out elements of hospital malfeasance that made Jack’s journey and mine almost unbearable at times. 7.Lastly – but most importantly – to provide Jack’s granddaughters with an unbelievable image of their heritage and the man Madison once called Papa Jack. This book is eventually the ultimate living legacy for his granddaughters. When all is said and done – there is no better way I could have spent the last few years – than to provide this glimpse at the true essence of the man who was a father for 35 years, my mate for 27, and a Papa to his granddaughters for far too few. Following is a short description of the book: Finding My Banana Bread Man – A Journey Through Mourning - takes you on a voyage of two men in a 27-year committed relationship. It is a saga of not only the 10-month illness of Jack, but also the period following his death and the turmoil and grief the author endured. A brain tumor and blindness are elements of the illness, which will leave you saddened at the effect it had on Jack but marvel at his ability to cope with these disabilities and find humor and peace in spite of these affections. It is a two and a half year period of shock, despair, loss, loneliness and searching as well as remembrance, revelation, progression and hope. In addition to the story, poetry is the element that ties together each of the thirteen chapters, and allows the reader to visit all the emotions of losing a mate. It guides the reader through an intimate look at the personal emotions and family issues associated with this type of loss. It allows the reader to see hope in spite of the tragedy of illness and death. Progression and hope are eventually found as the story concludes. It is more than a narrative on death, dying, and poetry. It is a love story, which concludes with John eventually Finding His Banana Bread Man – and Finding Himself. My best to each of you and may you always remember that …. "Beauty that dies the soonest has the longest life. Because it cannot keep itself for a day, we keep it forever. Because it can have existence only in memory, we give it immortality there". ~Bertha Damon (A Sense of Humus) Love, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack - The creation of this book was for you.

Fred, Let me try to address some of the questions you posed in your reply: 1. How are things for me now? Well I still cry. Not every day – but the tears are still there. If I hear a favorite song or see a favorite food in the grocery store, it can still make me sad. However, I can now also bring back some wonderful memories and some times these same things will bring a smile to my face and a memory of some splendid times with Jack. Therefore, my perspective has softened to allow me to see beyond the tears and find the joy that WAS. I have been able to see through some of those tangled wires and broken pipes and reconnect certain pieces 2. Are the plumbing and electrical systems all sorted out, or did I discover unforeseen disasters along the way? I realized a long time ago that this process is a lifetime endeavor – and therefore the project will never be totally completed – life after all is never really completed until we ourselves are no more – so I am ok with looking at it as a process that is and always will be ongoing. However, I can see some of the progress. I have moved to a new residence and took with me all the possessions that Jack and I had accumulated over the years. I had no regrets about leaving our last home we had lived in together and I feel his presence with me here. I guess that is progress. However, I find its all in how you look at life – perspective – and I choose to look at the glass as half full. Writing my book has been the most therapeutic counseling tool. Never overlook the power of the pen in recovering from devastating loss. 3. How are things for me now? It was not until I had reached the two-year mark that I was able to feel live around me again. For me that was the time frame – but it is different for every one. Grief is such a personal voyage. The important thing is to face it, pass through its many phases, and not run from it. I am convinced that the only way to do this is by remembering your loved one and not in letting go and burying the past. In addition to my book being a story of what happened to Jack and me during his illness it is also a story about what happened to me in the years after his death. The second part of my book is a reflection of grief and how you can pass through and actually transcend grief. It is a book filled with the story of great pain and sorrow – but it is also a book filled with great joy and laughter. Things are getting better for me now – but I will never forget what WAS – because my past has made me who I am NOW. I have found peace in remembering Jack – not in letting him go and burying the past. 4. Do I try to recreate everything just as it was or does it seem like an opportunity to make a few changes? Probably a combination of both. I obviously looked for some change since I did move to a new residence. However, on the other hand, I wanted to take all my “stuff” – Jacks and My stuff – and I found myself placing it in what would be considered similar places in my new home. That process reminded me of him and that gave me comfort. I still have the car that was ours – but was more the car that he drove when he was alive. I like the idea of keeping that – it’s a real piece of who he was – it’s where he sat when he drove. Again, it reminds me of him and I like that. I have a shelf of books. Jack never liked that idea of a shelf of books. I have a bookshelf – so in some ways I guess I did see what happened as an opportunity to do some things that I had not pursued when he was alive. His ashes sit atop the center portion of these shelves. The shelves are a change we would have never made together – however, it was something that I always wanted - so I pursued that. I think if Jack were alive today, he would approve of where he sits atop that shelf. I spend a lot of time in the office where that shelf is. He can still bring me joy through memories. Near his ashes is an old baking dish with the inscription “Made With Love” – he used to use this baking dish when he cooked up one of his many culinary wonders. All the things we had together as well as anything new that I now possess since he died provide me with wonderful memories of who he was and what we had. The book shelf is filled with our past and my future. All this continues to remind me of the following … “Because he has been here, I will be different than I would have been. I will have to become his legacy. He travels with me into tomorrow. He may have died, but love never ends.” Perhaps you have not begun sorting out tall those wires and pipes – but you will. Sometimes you do not even recognize that you have started the process or how much progress you have made. The process of grief is measured in baby steps – forwards and backwards – up and down. I believe my book will be a great read for you and all my friends on this site. One of the things I have always wanted to accomplish since Jack died was to pull together all the pieces of his tragic death and find something good in what happened. This book has done that for me. It has helped me heal and I believe its words will help others heal. I believe Jack would be very proud that some good has resulted from the tragedy of his death. We were always positive people always looking at the glass as half full. I’m still untangling those wires and pipes – but I’m making progress. John – Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Fred, I have been at this process of grieving for nearly three years now, having lost my partner in July 2005. Within the first 6 months, I wrote a short analogy of grief and what it was to me. I recall sharing this with individuals on this site at that time. So many new faces have come aboard (tragically) since I first provided that analogy. Your inquiry here today seeking “the different ways people see their experience” reminded me of what I had written. So here it is – what I felt at that time – and what I still believe is what this process is like: Analogy of what Grief is like to me: I thought off something last night that for me is a perfect analogy of a grieving person: Pretend just for a moment that someone was capable – and did do it – of pulling all the electrical wires out of your home and all your plumbing – after the house was perfectly built. The house would appear to everyone as if nothing was wrong – it would still look to be whole and the outer shell would still have all the pretty paint on it and the landscaping in the yard would remain untouched. But when you went to use your beautiful home you would have no electricity and no water – not because electricity and water were not available to the area – but because someone had pulled all the wires and pluming out of your perfect looking house. It was now just a shell. What a dilemma – how would you fix it – you would have to actually rewire that house and re-plumb it to make it whole. You would not want to bull doze it because the shell was still perfectly good – it is the inside – the deep inside – behind the walls and plaster that would have to be accessed to fix your home. It would take months of careful painstaking work to find just the right way to fix it all so it worked again properly – and in the meantime, you would have to try to live in that empty shell and make do with what you had. For me this is what grief is like – The shell of me is still here – but all my internal wiring/plumbing has been destroyed and must be reconnected to work again. It is a terribly slow and difficult process to reconnect it all back together – and it will be new wiring with some of the old used material put back in where it will fit. You desperately want to use some of that old wiring – as those are the memories of your loved one – all that material is there – it’s just in a large tangled pile of wire and pipes – and its your job to find what you can salvage and make it work with the new wiring and pipes you know you will have to buy. Slowly you take it a room at a time and begin the process – because you really love all those wires and pipes that appear to be in such a shambles – and you know what that house (person) will look lie again – given enough time. So many people don’t recognize the shambles you are in - because they look at the house and it appears from the outside to be normal – but reality lies in the pile of wires and pipes that need to be reconstructed. Somehow, – in some time – this project will become reality – and the lights will be turned on and the water will run again – hopefully even better than before. ____________________________________________________ By the way - my book has gone to print. You will see this "Analogy of Grief" (presented above)in the second half of the book under "Reflections." The book in its entirety is a much more elaborate expression of my journey through mourning. I should have my initial copies of the book next week - which means that availability to the public is just around the corner. More on all this very soon. John – Dusky is my handle on here, Love you Jack

I would love to meet all the people on this site. Let me know when might be a good time and I will certainly try to attend. I have not been on the site in the last couple weeks - sorry for the late reply. John - Dusky is my handle on here. Love you Jack

Kayc, I have had to return to hospitals a number of times since Jack died - and each time I revisited the pain that surrounded the time he and I spent in hospitals during the last year of his life. Only once have I had to go the the exact hospital where his surgeries occurred - and it was very difficult. Nearly three years later and it is all still very difficult. I understand how this has drained you. John - Dusky is my handle on here. Love you Jack

KathyG, What a treasure you have found!I had something similar happened after my Jack died. I found some old VHS tapes and buried within them were very few images of him - as he always was the one to do the video taping - so there scattered throughout these video's was Jacks Voice. All I could do was sit there and cry when I first played them. I had them converted to DVD's. Now anytime I want to hear his voice all I have to do is put them in the DVD. They say, as time passes, sometimes people begin to forget what there loved one's voice sounded like. For me this has not yet been a problem - however with these DVD's I can now be assured that I can hear him any time I want to. I had an extra copy made and gave one to Jack's son and granddaughters for Christmas 2006. What you have found - buried in that room that will soon be your office - is a treasure - your Bill's voice and image. I am so happy for you. Its these little tings that can bring us so much joy and peace.It is how we keep them alive for us. It is how we ensure that they will not be forgotten and that they will be remembered. The dying always want to be reassured that they will be remembered. These pictures and voices are wonderful methods to ensure that our memories of them will never fade. Peace and love, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Kathy G, Your feelings are very very normal. The same things that bring a smile to your face make you cry. When Jack first died everything made me cry - even the memory of good times we had in the past. Every thought became a living hell - whether it was a good memory or a sad one. My mind saw only pain and sorrow. I was talking about this very issue just the other day with a friend of mine who has seen me through all the levels of this grieving process. I was telling her, as I mentioned above, that in the early days of losing Jack - all memories brought me tears. Now I can smile and recall these same memories - it's not all tears anymore - it has become laced with smiles and joy. The tears still come with these memories on occasion - but now I can see the joy and laughter he brought to my life as well. Over time, what appears to you as "alternating between these two persons" will melt together and you will also be able to smile and find some joy in all the marvelous moments you had with Bill. The time table of healing is different for us all - but for me I was not able to experience any substantial memories of joyful times for almost two years. I was however able to "write through" my pain and find joy my putting my feeling down on paper. I found fleeting moments of joy by putting pen to paper. Now - over two and a half years following Jacks death I have many more - and longer moments - of joyful memories of him - joyful memories of the wonderful life we had together. It took a lot of time - but it eventual melts together - and now the tears also have "smiles on them." I think in the end it's a matter of concentrating on what we have as opposed to what we have lost. It's difficult to reach this point in ones though process. No one can take away the love you had for Bill - which makes that old saying that "love never dies" so very true to each of us. As Mitch Albom said in his recent book "For One More Day" "The dead sit at our tables long after they have gone." For years after Jack died I could only see the pain in that empty seat at my table each night and all I could do was cry. Now, although I still see an empty seat at that same table - I also can also remember with a smile as well as tears, all he was to me. I sit at the same table - but I have learned to see things differently - and I count myself lucky to have had Jack in my life for the 27 years I did have him there. My best to you alwasy, John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Sagie, It is very normal to question your self and ask the question "Did I do enough" or "why wasn't I better" or "if only .....". However, the answer to all these questions and the bottom line is that we all did the best we could given the circumstances we were faced with. Many times I was angry because of what was happening to Jack - what was happening to me - and as a result I was not always as kind as I could have been. I went through months of applying self forgiveness to myself after he was gone. I also had to make the decision to take Jack off Chemo - a daunting decision for one human being to have to make for another. I questioned myself about that as well. Over and over again we punish ourselves - for being human - and once again we need to remind ourselves that we did the best we could given the circumstances we were faced with. We end up being harder on ourselves than anyone else would be. In the end I finally came to the conclusion that Jack would have been the first in line to forgive me for any of my self imposed feelings of guilt that I had. Sagie - you did enough - I am sure. And it is very normal for you to have these feelings. I am anxious for my book to be available to each of you and for the web site I have created to promote my book to also be available to you as well. It deals with so many of the issues we have all faced on this web site as we struggled with the days, months and years following our loved ones death. Soon I hope this is available as a instrument of help and healing. It healed me to write and I hope it lends assistance and healing to you as well. John - Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack

Hello to all my Friends on this site, I bumped into another milestone yesterday. Similar to many of the “moments in time” that so many of you have faced during this journey. Jack has now been dead two and a half years as of January 31st. I can hardly believe so much time as past – and I recall so many of you noting these same type of “markers” as the day arrives – 6 months – a year – two years - three years etc. I, for some strange reason, started to do some calculating when I realized I had reached this point in time. I thought – “wow that’s a quarter of a decade” – then I went further – “that’s 30 months” - “914 days” – “21,960 hours” – “1,316,160 minutes” and “78,969,600 seconds.” I believe I have felt every one of those years, months, days, hours’ minutes and seconds – and partial decade. Time has softened the rough edges of this process – but has not taken away the overwhelming feeling of loss. That remains. It’s a long time to be without the person you expected to live many more years with but I remain extremely grateful for the marvelous 27 years he graced my life. As I have said many times on this site, - Jack lived so very well “in the moment” – and that’s all we really have - moments stung together like "pearls in a necklace" - which are a reflection of your own life. Jack provided me 27 beautiful years of memories. I consider these years – at this point in time - to be the best part of my life – the best part of “the pearls of a necklace of my own life”. Nevertheless, I still hope that there are yet more pearls to add to my life - all guided by his “in the moment” quality of existence. I still miss him – but at least I don’t count seconds anymore. I did when he first died. I used to say there was not a second that went by that I did not think of him. That’s probably more like “not an hour” that goes by. I think that’s progress. I think that’s my own attempt to “live in the moment” – as I try to add new pearls to the necklace of my life without Jack’s physical presence. I still carry the essence of who he was with me – always will. I wish you all well – every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every month, every year and every decade or partial decade of your life through this journey without the physical presence of your loved. Love and peace, John – Dusky is my handle on here Love you Jack