HAP

Dear Dwayne, Remember to breathe today. Remember to eat today. Remember to drink today. But most of all, remember to remember the joy today. Peace, Harry

Very nice. You've gone and made me cry. Peace, Harry

Dear Friends, I am going to start this by going back to Tammy's original post--about the need for all of us to see the positive things in our lives despite the pain we are all going through. By learning to see the positives we take an active role in dealing with our own grief. By giving voice to those positives we give them the same power that we give the negatives by giving voice to them. We are all of us locked in a battle with our pain. But if all we see is that pain, if all we focus on is that pain, then we will not move beyond that pain. We will stay locked in our grief forever--and that is not only not a good thing for us, but not at all what our partners would want for us after their passing. Tammy's proposal when she started this thread was that each of us would try to post something positive every day or so. It might be the return of the birds in the spring or the first ripe tomato in the garden. It might be getting through the day without crying or going to the grocery without a breakdown. It might simply be going for a walk around the neighborhood. It might be finding that penny on the sidewalk with the loved one's year of birth. As most of you know, I have been taking part in an experimental online grief program put together by the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston. Their emphasis is similar. The first part of the program is about self-care and setting positive goals--about doing things to reward yourself for each positive step. And, as most of you know, my wife died from a truly awful form of cancer that I have vowed to destroy. But I have also come to care very deeply about the other people on this site. And it worries me that this particular strand has been ignored for nearly a week--since the last time I was here. Part of that may be that the regular contributors are off fighting their own dragons--or more likely on vacation. Part of that, in looking at some of the topics that have been added while I have myself been elsewhere are from those so new to their grief that pain is all there is. I know and understand what that is because I have been there. It will take you folks time to begin to see there is any light left in the world. And I also know that the older hands are responsible for greeting those new to this world we would all prefer not to be part of but are and helping those new people get through that first awesome darkness. But we all need a place that we can focus on the positives. We all need the discipline to look for them. This strand is one of the places we can do that. And it is a highly visible place because it is dedicated not to the positives occurring in the life of one of us--but to the positives that are happening to all of us. I know we all celebrate when one of us finds a job or recovers from an illness. And I adore those individual threads that celebrate those moments. But those topics too quickly slide to the bottom of the page and vanish. What Tammy was trying to do here, I think, was create a thread that would not vanish--that would provide each of us with the hope that there was always something going on out there that was positive for someone--and that would give all of us on those dark days the hope that our positive day would come as well. Now I will be the first to admit that I have been as guilty as anyone this past week about not adding to the common positives. I have spent the week trying to make some big positives happen in my fight against neuroendocrine cancer and carcinoid syndrome--the disease that killed my wife. I have come home every night this week with the best of intentions, but exhaustion has gotten in the way. Yesterday and tonight I plan on early nights so i can get back to something that looks like a regular sleep schedule--a thing I had been doing well with the past couple of weeks but have lost lately. So herewith, some good news on the several fronts of my life: 1. On September 18 I am going to participate in the Jimmy Fund Marathon Walk as part of the Caring for Carcinoid Foundation team. Every nickel we raise will go to support research on NEC at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. As of this morning, I have raised $2920 for that team. 2. D-F and Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston have started a national center for treatment and research on NEC and Carcinoid Syndrome at B&W, in part because of my wife's life and their work with her. 3. D-F, CFCF and the American Cancer Society have all agreed to help me figure out a way to come up with a plan to get people to walk in malls for Neuroendocrine Tumor Awareness Day on November 10. We are also going to try to set up booths where people can make donations and pick up information about the disease in malls on that date. 4. Several former students who are now in the newspaper business have volunteered to create and sell their chains on a feature package on NEC and CS to run on or about November 10. 5. We had a celebration at my home on Wednesday for the key people on the Walking with Jane team. We presented seven walking sticks to people whose contributions went above and beyond the call. Within hours of the break up of that party two people had come p with new ideas for fundraisers for WWJ. 6. I have a phone call set up for Monday afternoon with someone from the Jimmy Fund about how to do the mall thing in November. 7. I finished the first for-fun novel I have read since Jane got sick last year last night. 8 (At the risk of offending the Yankee fans in the audience) The Red Sox are in first place in the AL East. 9. Dwayne seems to be on the mend. He called this am and told me he went out for walks twice yesterday. 10. They did the biopsy on my nose this morning. The doctor described the spot as "really small." And despite the fact the novacaine has worn off, it doesn't hurt--merely itches periodically. Just have to remember not to scratch it. So what good things are happening in your lives? It's time to fill this space up again with some good news on a daily basis. As my buddy Callahan used to say, "Shared pain is diminished; shared joy is multiplied." Peace, Harry

Friends, My best news is posted elsewhere: Dwayne is getting out of the hospital tomorrow. But I have been absent to a large extent the last week or two and owe some positives here above and beyond that. The Dana-Farber grief study is going well. It has forced me into some dark spaces, as i think i said above, but has provided some tools to help me get through the next four months with. Some of it is things i already knew but had neglected. Other of it is things I had not thought of. It has been a positive experience. The coding is coming along for the website. I bought a domain name this week and signed up for a web hosting service. While the site is not yet online--still copy to write and code to write as well--the prototype we posted on Facebook has received positive responses. The two primary designers are demonstrating truly outstanding gifts at graphic design and seem to be anticipating both my thoughts and those of others. It is going to be gorgeous. My fundraising for the Marathon Walk is just shy of $3000. We have raised over $10,000 for cancer research in the last eight months, more than half of it since the first of June. This week I am meeting with people from both Dana-Farber and the Caring for Carcinoid Foundation. And next week I had an appointment to see a lawyer about setting up the non-profit foundation. A year ago, the week ahead was a horrible one. Jane and I were back from our last summer trip together and her biopsy was just ahead. By a week from Monday... But I am determined to make this week a series of positives that will send a clear message that this cancer chose the wrong person when it picked on Jane. She said she wanted to be the one to beat this. God willing, she will be the one who destroys it for everyone. Peace, Harry

Dear Kay, It never rains but it pours. Sending you as many positive thoughts and electronic hugs as the traffic will bear. Peace, Harry

Friends, Dwayne is back in the hospital. I just got back from the hospital a little while ago and he had asked me to post a brief note about what is going on. Apparently the antibiotic they had him on after his surgery caused a bacterial infection in his intestines. They have him on another antibiotic to take care of that, but are having to pump him full of fluids intravenously. He looked good when I first saw him this morning, but looked tireder when I saw him after going by his house to pick some things up for him. They expect he will be in the hospital until at least Tuesday--and more likely Wednesday. He is very positive about his recovery. He wants to go hiking when he gets better. But he could use all the positive energy he can get just this very now. I hope to get back in to see him tomorrow sometime. But he clearly tires easily. I will keep you all posted on his recovery. Peace, Harry

Friends, Sorry I have had to vanish for a few days. I needed to spend some time with friends on the physical plane and take some time to think through some things. I am back to having trouble sleeping. Not surprising given what July and August were like a year ago. We spent part of this week in NH saying good-bye to it and to each other, knowing what we were coming home to. We spent one week every summer off alone in the Lakes Region where no one could interrupt us--where we could be totally us for a week. Next week was the biopsy. The week after that, the diagnosis, the blood clot and the first hospitalization of her life. The week after that the first oncology visit where we were told the oncologist did not expect to see another case of this in her career--and then had three more within a week. From there it all devolves into endless rips to Boston through awful traffic and endless frustration that ends with a suddenness I still cannot quite believe. The D-F study is still focussed on self-care and getting me to reconnect with people, places and things that made up the routines of our life together. Some of that has been difficult at times, but I think I am moving in the right direction most of the time. I've gone for a long walk in the woods and have another walk tentatively scheduled with a friend on Thursday--depending on weather. I went out with friends for lunch today--and tried not to make the awkwardness I felt too obvious. This was my first monthly retiree lunch--and Jane should have been there with me. I started looking through things last weekend, trying to figure out where things need to live now--and what in the longterm I need to keep and what I need to give away. I am watching some TV and may find it in me to listen to the Red Sox more frequently--a thing we did nightly all summer for years. I love baseball, but somehow this year I am having trouble working up any real enthusiasm for any sport. We'll see if that changes over time. I am trying not to pick at the scabs this has left on my life. I walk every morning and try to plan the day ahead as I always did on these walks. Sometimes there is only the loss in my brain when I start out, but the endorphins kick in after a couple of miles. I see a lawyer next week about setting up the foundation and rewriting my will. Things move forward in bits and starts--and i have gotten used to the idea hat sometimes i am going to accomplish nothing on any given day despite my intentions. The grief waves come and I let them wash over me. I survived the night after she died. i survived the days until my brother arrived. I survived the funeral and bearing my end of the casket. I survived the winter and the spring. I will survive this long hot summer, the coming of fall, and the long winter. The glads are blooming in the garden. I put some on her grave and put others in the house in a vase we bought together. The fragrance of the marigolds fills the house when the fan is running or the breeze comes in through the windows. The zinnias throw their weight into the mix. The empty ache is still there sometimes, especially in the morning when I wake up and she is not there. It reduced me to tears Sunday morning in a way I have not experienced since the days right after her death. But the walks and the flowers and the work bring me back to the land of life. The phoenix within me stirs--the flames have cooled somewhat. I am not yet ready to be reborn, but I feel the quickening in my pulse sometimes that says Yes, you will be whole again--different but whole. But first there is this still burning pain to be worked through. I will get there though. I know that much now. My mind keeps repeating the word patience. It keeps reminding me to breathe. It keeps reminding me that this love and this pain were not created in a day. And that while the love will endure, unraveling the pain will take its own sweet time. So I practice my breathing and practice patience. Rain and cool weather will come. The sun will return. The cycle will carry me to where I need to be--and to what I will need to do. I am late getting to bed. But i needed to write this. I needed to remind myself about Boetheus and the Wheel of Fortune--that sometimes the wheel raises you up to great heights--and other times lowers you to the most awful lows. But patience always carries the day May all of us have restful nights and peaceful days. Peace, Harry

Dear friends, I have had an interesting couple of days that have led some interesting places. First, things are proceeding on the website for Walking with Jane. The prototype is done and now it is about coding and content creation. I am stunned by the graphic design and so proud of the people who are doing the design work--both of whom are former students who volunteered their time and talent to the task. I could have designed a site, but it would be nowhere close to what they are creating for us. Second, the people doing content creation have been hard at work. Two of them interviewed me about Jane and about why I am doing this. The interviews each lasted well over two hours and brought all of us to tears periodically. When they were done we tools some time to catch up on where they have been and what they have been doing. One of the conversations got me talking about all the different things former journalism students are doing with their lives. It is moving to think how big an influence Jane and I both had on our students. It was all very draining--but very good draining. I feel really good about a lot of things--not just the progress we are making on that stuff--but it is largely growing out of WWJ. Third, There has been a huge surge this week in donations to my Jimmy Fund Marathon Walk. When i started two weeks ago I thought $500 was going to be a stretch. As of tonight we are at $1880 and I wonder what a realistic goal will turn out to have been. The generosity of our former students has not just been the time they are expending on the WWJ project. So many have opened their wallets in ways I did not see coming at all. Fourth, Dana-Farber asked me last week to participate in their HEAL trial. It is a very highly structured online grief program that they are trying out over the next 12 weeks on caregivers of cancer patients at Dana-Farber who have died. The concern is that these caregivers--often spouses--are apparently more likely to develop "prolonged grief" or grief that begins to get in the way of the person dealing constructively with life--sorry I have not said that very well--I understand the concept but don't quite know how to explain it. I finished session three tonight and feel more relaxed than i have in months. This session was in part on doing relaxation by tightening muscle groups. The first three sessions have focussed on self care issues. My first task is making sure i go to bed at about the same time each night and get up at about the same time each morning--and that there be enough hours of sleep in between to get the amount of rest the individual's body traditionally has needed in the past. My next is to make sure that I get some recreational/relaxation time every day. The tasks are tailored to individual needs based on a survey given in the first session and updated by a similar check-in questionnaire each day. It has only been three sessions since last Friday, but I seem to be feeling a bit better. Finally, Dwayne is home from the hospital and seems to be on the mend. I have worried about him those past several weeks. I have been blessed in so many ways this week--and in so many ways these last several months. Thank you all for being among those blessings. Peace, Harry

Friends, I spoke to Dwayne on the phone a little while ago. The operation went well and he should be home later today. They took the catheter out this morning and he is hopeful they will not have to put t back in before he goes home. Sometimes the swelling requires continued use of the catheter for a few days. His friend is picking him up about 2:30. If they will let him out earlier than that I will pick him up. He says he feels very good today--and much stronger. He said he felt all the energy from our prayers and good wishes. Peace, Harry

Dear Mary, Rest. Eat well. Drink well. And listen to what the doctor tells you to do. Pneumonia is no fun under the best of circumstances. Hang in there. Peace, Harry

Ah Marty, Sometimes the universe really does play games with us. Today, every time I tried to do something something else came up to demand I not do that but do this instead. For a while it was frustrating--but then I remembered precession: the more we try to go in one direction the more the forces around us pull us from that direction. So I let go of what I wanted and listened to what the universe wanted. Your note just underlines that and reminds me that the pattern is what the pattern is. What I really need to do, I think, is go sit by the river for a while--or go walk the beach--one or the other of which I will do tomorrow night, I think. It is going to be too hot to do either during the day tomorrow. But I have an invitation to go out tomorrow afternoon, so it may be Saturday before I get there. Either way, I expect the waves or the river will be laughing at me. And that will be ok--so long as they don't mind me laughing back. Thanks to you all. Time for this little black duck to get some sleep. Peace, Harry

Friends, No. Beng on the upswing only refers to my state of mind. I have still not pushed myself this week. And i have been better about not putting pressure on myself for what i am not getting to. I have fallen off the wagon a little tonight--largely because I had group and found some mail I needed to get to when I got home. The gas bill does not pay itself and i am so absent-minded that i will forget it all together if I don't pay it when it gets here. But today I could move from one hour at a time to one meal at a time. That feels very much better. Night all. Pax et lux, Harry

Friends, So I am clearing off the top of my desk where I have been piling paper and stuff for months. I turn to throw something away and this card comes off the desk and hits me in the leg. The card says:"When there are no words to soften the pain may your spirit be touched by the love that surrounds you and slowly...may the healing begin." Just a gentle reminder that sometimes when I thought I knew what my wife was thinking or feeling I was sometimes wrong. I put the card on the top of m desk where I can see it whenever I come into the room--right next to the card my wife wrote three years ago as a reminder to herself--and now to me--Thou shalt not whine--and the card i wrote for myself at the same time that says Welcome to Callahan's. Peace, Harry

Dear Mary, I love this idea. I took Jane's wedding and engagement ring with me when I went west for Christmas. And i so know what you mean about travel. we had those kinds of plans. Now...Well her rings are still around my neck--so she goes where I go. Peace, Harry

Friends, Took it easy again today--other than doing some cleaning and getting the computer out of the bedroom. Putting it there in the first place was a mistake, but i thought I would have to hook it physically to the modem at the time. The modem turned out to be wireless, but i never had the will to move it--despite all the things I've read that say it is a bad idea. I seem to be back on the upswing--though how long that will last is anybody's guess. One hour at a time today. One hour at a time. I am going to make it another early night. Strange dreams last night about a building with Jane's name on it. Very strange--first time I remember ever dreaming something like that. One last post to make--and then to bed. Peace, Harry

Dear Tammy, A wise woman. But they did not see this from miles away? That fire is bloody huge. Or did you invite the whole town? (A comment only someone who worked in an even smaller town could make and maybe get away with.) And where did Swansea come from? Clearly I am not running at 100 percent yet. Peace, Harry

Friends, Even in the darkness there is a light. I went to Jane's grave on Saturday. It was a beautiful day with not too much heat, no humidity to speak of, and barely a cloud in the sky. I sat down in front of the grave and just sat. Then I felt a couple drops of water. There was a big puffy cumulus and nothing else in the sky. But this soft rain--the rain I call the baptismal rain--began to fall. It did not last long--but it reminded me how blessed my life has been. Several of my former students from years ago have written me the last two days--almost as though they knew I needed cheering up. And two of my oldest friends have called within the last 24 hours--right on cue. And so many of you chimed in yesterday... Each time I find myself in need, there are dozens of hands there to help. Thank you all. Peace, Harry

Dear Tammy, The quilt is beautiful. And they really let you have a fire that big in Swansea? Very glad the day went well. Be easy on yourself today and tomorrow. And I like the wallow line a lot. . Peace, Harry

Friends, Thank you all. I checked in briefly last night, read Marty's advice--and those of you who had posted to that point and decided you were all right--that I have been pushing myself very hard. So i just crashed everything last night. Watched a hideous bit of comedy. Went to bed early, slept ok, ignored the alarm clock I forgot to turn off, discovered I had left the laundry out all night--and instead of getting mad, just laughed. I largely took today off. I talked to a friend yesterday who told me i was spending too much time wrapped up in the cancer war and needed to stop thinking about that for 24 hours. So I largely did. Another friend called this morning and let me vent for a bit, then talked about doing a hike some day next week after this unbearable weather breaks. I spent the afternoon thinking and realized that this is like climbing a rock wall: sometimes you have to go backwards in order to go forward. Then i watched another bad comedy and laughed some more. Tammy, I so know what you are saying. I haven't had a drink since Jane died for the same reason. I have had to haul myself back from the brink of madness a couple of times since her death. Insanity runs in the family as well, so I am very careful there as well. And if I really let myself wallow it opens up the drinking and all the other demons I really do not want to fight with from inside the bottle/madness/whatever. And Jane and I talked a bit. And I realized she is not disappointed in how I am handling this--that we always have a tough time with these early separations. Our souls have been linked for so many lifetimes... I feel better today, but plan another early night. It amazes me what a single good night's sleep can do for me. And we will see what I feel like doing tomorrow. But thank you all again for your advice and your kind thoughts. One more note to write, and then some sleep. Peace, Harry

Friends, Shortly after Jane died I had a conversation with myself. I whined to myself that all the firsts were going to be back-end loaded. Of the important days in our year, only Valentine's Day and my birthday fall in the first six months of the year. Christmas was awful, but I was still so stunned and numb that I can hardly say what happened then. Our retirement, our anniversary, Halloween, her birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas...I saw that as running a gauntlet that would be survivable only because, with one exception, there would be time to recover between each blow. This week, I discovered that will not be true. I have felt blue for days. Usually, after the tenth of the month there is a one or two day hangover of grief. This month that grief has only deepened. I could not figure out why. Yesterday, it hit me: this is the week her doctor told her she probably had cancer--though we would have to have a biopsy to be sure. It stopped us in our tracks and changed everything. Every week from now until mid-November holds some moment in it that threatens to over-power me. And from November 11 to December 10, every day has that level of body blow in it. I know i have to face one day at a time. My conscious mind knows that. But my subconscious has this way of bouncing beyond the conscious mind's control. So it seems i am headed back to the minute-by-minute level for a bit--maybe for months. It stretches out before me, to steal a line from an old friend, like the snow-filled steppes of Russia. My wife is annoyed with me right now. I can hear her voice: keep moving forward. But I'm tired. I finally understand how she felt at the end--tired and wanting to go home. I tried every minute to buck her up, to give her positive energy, to not let her see how worried i was every day. Now, she tries to do the same for me. And i try to do the same for me. People survive this. They find purpose. They go on. They do what they are called to do. But today, I just want to wallow in it for ten minutes. Then pick myself up and get back on the trail. I have walked every day in all this. I have even begun running some every day. I keep trying to move forward against this awful tide--I've even tried the undertow trick of swimming sideways. And I still can't shake this sadness that threatens to pull me under. Maybe a good night's sleep tonight will help. I don't know. I just know i have to keep fighting my way forward. The mail i am getting from former students reminds me I have done good work in the world. But it also reminds me of how much work still lies in front of me. It scares me sometimes. But it is enough to get me through this dark night of the soul. And i know that is what this is. Positive things still happen to me and around me every day. I just have to keep remembering to look for them. I will get through all of this. The best steel goes through the fire over and over and over. And when it is done it is a blade that will hold an edge in even the darkest hour of the darkest battle. I am in that forge--and what will emerge will either be slag or that sharp steel i need to be. So bring it on. I may have these dark moments to get through, but there is a pony in here somewhere. Peace, Harry

Dear Becky, I can, for the most part, only echo what the others have already said. My in-laws rarely visit either here or the cemetery. They are so far up that river in Egypt some days I want to scream. And the negatives come when they come. Sharing them lessens their power over us. Speak what is there and don't sweat it. We have all either been there or will be there at some point. I try very hard to find a positive in every day, But there are days I see nothing but pain. We cannot control how others act. We can only sometimes control our own reactions. They do not mean to be hurtful. They have their own grief to deal with and, I think sometimes, part of their terror of us is that our grief so overpowers theirs that they do not know what to do. Peace, Harry

Dear Tammy, You have been in my thoughts and prayers all day. Hope it goes off even better than you have planned. Peace, Harry

Dear Tammy, Hang in there, especially tomorrow. Here if you need me. Peace, Harry

Dear Mary, I don't know if this will help, but my grandfather always told me illness was our mind and body's way of telling us to stop moving and start thinking and addressing the things that are at the root of our pain. I find when I ignore the things that matter I am sick in a hurry. When Jane was in the hospital, someone told me that this was god's way of getting our attention--to remind us that there were things we were pledged to do. It seemed a bit extreme to me--and still does. But Jane's death has forced me to rethink my priorities. I will never entirely recover from losing her. But her death does not remove the things that need to be done in the world while I am here. Every day I wake up afresh to the fact she is not here. Every night I resist going to bed because it is such a strong reminder that she is not here. In between--especially this week--the week we first learned she probably had cancer is next week--can't wait for that--I find myself weeping at odd moments: mowing the lawn yesterday, driving myself home from the mall I went to to escape the memories--bad mistake there because we used to walk there so frequently in the winter and summer--reading your post just now. But I keep hearing her voice telling me to keep moving forward--to keep trying to do what I am supposed to be doing. Otherwise everything she went through was for nothing. Of course the heat you are dealing with does not help matters either. Make sure you are drinking enough. Make sure you are eating enough. Try to read--or watch a movie. Make it a comedy: Norman Cousins argued laughter was good for the immune system. Illness is depressing to begin with. In our state it gives us too much time to think about what we do not have. That spouse is not there to do an nursing--or help us laugh at the germs floating around in our systems. And that hurts like hell as well. I don't know if any of this helps. But we are here for you to vent to--and to try to buck you up when you need it. Hang in there. Peace, Harry

Friends, Busy day here. But i got in my second run of the summer today--and my quads stayed loose afterwards--and stayed loose even after I mowed this afternoon. Two days ago they hurt like blazes. And honestly, they felt lousy when i left the house. But no pain tonight. And my back is slowly getting better. Peace, Harry