Patty65

Dear CharKath, For the past week, I have been on a mission to learn more about all the arguments on both sides about NDEs and Afterlife. I expected and planned on it giving me comfort, because Ron has felt so far away from me, and I've felt so utterly get-me-out-of-here-I-can't-take-it-anymore Alone. Last weekend, I got a subscription to Audible.com and I listened to "Proof of Heaven" by Eben Alexander. NYT Bestseller. Then another one by him, "Map of Heaven".Then somewhere in there, I read some doubtful reviews after looking for meditation music that he had talked about in his second book, and saw that everything Dr. Alexander produced was super expensive and I started to wonder about him. So, then I started listening to "Life After Life" by Dr. Raymond Moody (1st edition 1975), and I am half way through it. I hear there is another good one by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, but it is not available for listening and that is all I can accomplish with my self-induced manic schedule. I've had a lot of signs in these 4 months, especially at the beginning. Mostly technology related, from certain songs playing on their own (Anticipation by Carly Simon), to "Ron's (iPhone) Location" showing up as sent from me as other texts to our mutual friends. And other things. An alarm got set on my phone, minutes "after" he had gone, when I was alone with him in the Hospice room. I get like that -- completely obsessive about a topic -- and I'm actually not sure it is and has been a good thing on this topic. Or too soon. Or too late. Because I am not finding in any of them what I need. They are all about how we should not fear death. But NONE of them has talked about this "Afterlife" from the perspective of comforting those left behind. Yes, I say, "Great!" there's a good possibility of Ron being in another, amazing place in his 'journey'. But (selfishly) I think, but what about me? Is he here? Is he off engrossed with all the 'eternal' pleasures and ecstasy? All the poeple he knew before, that new world we cannot be part of? What about The Two Musketeers... US? JUST Us??? And it just HURTS more. And yet I'm obsessed, still searching for the connection I can never find, and unable to stop myself. I have no answers. I am scrambling to find some, and I'm not sure I'll ever know, and it may be doing me more harm than good, given I've stopped being able to eat or sleep much again, since I started this obsession. For as much as what I have listened to has told me from the people who have experienced death and come back, they would not commit suicide to go back there, because of their strong messages they received, that we are to spread love and acquire knowledge in this life on earth. Yet I have not experienced that, and I'm like -- OK I'm ready. And if it is not there, oh well. It is dangerous in my state to be listening, yet I'm having trouble stopping myself. So, I'm walking a fine line. I am, however, finally going outside at night and looking at the stars more, like we used to do together, and searching for the answers up there. I search for him even to be invisibly near me, surrounding me, and my muddly logic keeps it distant. I hope for a time, or a message from all this listening, that I can believe that he is near me, watching over me. But with all the grand descriptions, it's hard to trust that he would be here in this mundane world with me. And then I admonish myself for having any hope to find him in any form in my life. Patty

Sooo with you Gwen. Soo tired of hearing "only time will help". Put me in prison, why don't you. I'm waiting out the grief sentence, and nobody can tell me when I get released. Or even furloughed. I get afraid of telling people "home hell" because they then suggest me moving. Maybe I will have to, but that is just not it. At least I can be in a familiar environment while I'm going through the home hell. I'm done with my work day now, but I'm sitting at work reading because I just can't get the courage to face another night alone yet. Now sleep is elusive too. Three nights, hardly any, no apparent reason. It adds about 6 hours to my sentence each day. Is it always the anniversary of death... or is it other days too? I swear it seems like on the 29th dates each month, I've just started picking up the pieces from the "23rd" anniversary each month, and the 29th hits even harder, which is the date we found out everything, the 911 date. The 23rd was 4 months gone. The 29th was 5 months since I found out he was going to be. I have this picture of him on my phone when I click it on. And all of a sudden, over the last few days, same period of no sleep etc., I can't STAND it. I have to find a replacement. I can't stand it because I now see SO clearly that he was sick back then (one year ago), we just didn't know it. WHY didn't I see?? I look at it, and all I see is cancer growing inside him now. All of a sudden. Thanks for the place to ramble... Patty

I hear you Stephen... I really do. I think there's a lot to that, that maybe down deep I don't care if I "break".... or maybe I wish for it even. but my neurotically efficient self knows that it is not necessarily for the benefit of the business, I could get more done if I wasn't so worn down. But mainly, it's my escape from home-hell. I do think there is part of me that wants to figure a solution out before I do break though. I feel the urge to play the piano (continue with the lessons I started with the digital piano I got with the condolence money) and I feel the urge to paint again. As an expression of this pain. I just don't though, because when I walk in the house, I enter home-hell, and it precludes me getting to any of those things, no matter how much I am determined to as I am driving there. I'm told that will change. It feels like it's been like this forever... and since only yesterday... all at the same time.

Ohhh totally... Every once in a while I have this bizarre concept that I'll have to find some friends, since I had little to none because it was just us two musketeers and the shop. And I'm so alone with every aspect of life. Then I think, how could I possibly ever do that in the state I'm in? "New" almost seems like a dirty word. I just want the old, and knowing I can't have that, it makes "new" my enemy.

I don't have weekends. They don't exist anymore. I just work and work, in fact, I've cut staff so I have to work harder on the weekends. How fast can I run and for how long? I'll let you know. So far, it's been 109 days of straight work so far.

Cool Hand Luke

I'm not sure Butch you will ever forget the loving memories... in fact, I highly doubt it... I'm just hoping for all of us that they will get less heart wrenching as the years go by... maybe more heart-hugging? I tell at least one story or little snippet about Ron every day when I'm at the shop. Today, my chef was talking about drinking milk, and I laughed, smiled, and cried when saying how the only way Ron would drink milk was with ice. It hurts to do that, more than they know, but I HAVE to... to keep him close. I don't imagine I'll ever stop doing that. I just hope it doesn't hurt as much as it does now. It's not like the thoughts aren't there anyway, why not get them out, right? (((hugs))) Patty

OK Gwen, You made me laugh. Especially today, that is something. My staff laughs at me daily, by the end of the day I'm a wreck and when I'm trying to leave I end up going back for something after walking out the door EVERY day. I'm definitely the guy in that cartoon. How many days (almost all of them) I come home to a refrigerator I left open. At least there's nothing really in there anymore, since I've already eaten the take out that made me open it the night before. Tomorrow is 4 months. Yesterday I got a massage that one of our investors bought for me and I made the appointment. What was I thinking???? A puddle of tears gathered on the floor through the little hole for your face in the massage table, and the night was worse, and this morning worse than that. UGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I'm so glad you guys are here.

Totally relate Char. The tools I can't (and don't want to) use, the disrepair, the questions I can't ask. The only thing I was able to obtain was two passwords. The broken plumbing and leaks, the shoulder-high yard... the things he put away that I don't know where. It's totally not fair. Grief makes it impossible, and the missing skills and knowledge just seals the impossibility into a fortress it seems.

People just don't get the Father's Day or Mother's Day hardship. "He's not your father!" I was told yesterday. But he was father to the child we miscarried, he was step-dad to my daughter, who called him dad. I had such a hard time with it, that I knew I would cry if I called my 84 year old dad, and I put it off so long that the time difference was too great. When I called him today, fighting unsuccessfully to hold back the tears, he was more than forgiving, I had done nothing wrong to him. People just don't understand.

I've been in my black hole since before the weekend, so I am just seeing this now, Gwen. Every night I leave work as late as I can, and sometimes I try to think of the things I can do at home to "distract". I wash a million dishes at work when the dishwasher is off duty, but can I wash the all of the cat-food-spoons that are in my sink? No. I have to take a dirty one out of the sink and wash it since there is none left in the drawers. I can't eat there, that's why there's only cat food spoons in the sink. I can't do anything there but helplessly watch myself fall into despair, night after night. "Gentle" as far as I can find it means letting myself turn off the light to go to sleep alone. And even that's not all that easy. The other one that my therapist insists will help is not beating myself up for falling into despair every night. And I'm conscious of that, and I can manage that sometimes. I guess I just think that the "be gentle" thing is anything that not compound the despair. Like, if you saw a child crying, you would comfort her, not yell at her. If she just found out that her most favorite thing in the whole world was destroyed forever, you aren't going to stop her despair, you just won't be making it worse. Maybe all we can do is not make it worse. But I just don't know how not to get frustrated with the relentlessness of it all. But pain is not being weak. Despite what our world (and even my head) tells me. Patty

They are so, so powerful, Butch. Songs touch our soul. And your soul is so bound to your beloved, and especially that song, it symbolized your bond. I'm so sorry that it made your day so hard ((hugs)) Patty

Hi Stephen, Whether it is my regrets - things I wished I had done or done better -- that may have had an impact, or them... what I've been realizing is, and it is probably the same for Kathy and so many, it was over long before either one of us realized it was a problem. I was chatting with someone online on SS and her husband had metastatic melanoma -- and she was talking about "the lump" that killed her husband. By the time we realized and all of a sudden, about 30 of them popped up on his back. One killed her husband. I came to the realization -- it was too hidden and too far by the time it showed itself. I am trying to let myself take that in to relieve my reeling brain from the "what if I had..._______" I know one day Kathy's ashes will make it here. Despite everything, it is a beautiful and special place, and she saw that. Patty

Beautiful Kay! Those are beautiful fish prints! I bet you could find a market for those -- and Stephen, I think Kay's fish coasters would sell wonderfully at the show! I bet you could sell several sets. Or, if you are only doing things hanging on a wall or whatever, Kay you could mount 4 or 9 of them with a quarter inch in between on a piece of wood or something and it would be absolutely gorgeous... Let's all do some art therapy!

It's about 24x36 inches, I do paint on board though. It's called "Shadow of Nature" and always has been, but it has a different meaning to me now. I had forgotten its name until I went to find an image to post. Thanks for the info, I'll think about subject matter And thank you! I have a portrait of ron and I (actually using the photo in my profile)... I was able to work on it in the first month twice, but not since. That one is still too hard.

Yes, I had my cancer surgery at a very good hospital on Oahu. They took out part of my kidney. Anything serious, anyone here says "can you go to Oahu?" When Ron was in the ER, I had a screaming fight with the Doctor to get Ron to Oahu. Because Ron didn't want chemo, the Dr didn't think they would approve. He finally agreed to "recommend" to the Kaiser people, and he got approval. But he told me that if Ron went to Oahu, he would probably not ever make it home again. And I would be in a strange place, no support, and I would have had to shut down the business, and lose my teaching job. I did not believe he was going to die. I did not want him to come out of it to a failed business that was our whole life. How crazy is that. So after he got the approval, I ended up having to make a split second, on the spot decision to have him stay on island. But in the hospital, they put him on DNR, which I again had a screaming fight about. The dr. said he had to be if he didn't want chemo. "I don't want this place making a mistake and killing him and not reviving him!" I had screamed, spewing out all the things that I could think of about the hospital. It wasn't pretty. He was in the hospital from Friday till Sunday, then Hospice for the 23 days. Hey, maybe that counts as anger. Thanks for listening. It all just swirls and swirls around with nowhere to go most of the time.

Are all the artworks' themes going to be centered on grief? This is another "theme" -- I've done a lot of horses but other stuff too. This one is hanging at the business. I look at it a lot these days, I'm not sure why, I did it decades ago, before I even knew Ron. I think it has something to do with another realm. I'll think about what I might want to do...

Stephen, I would like to contribute a painting What kind of subject matter or themes do well in that area? Or you can message me about it. Patty

Hi Gwen, Yeah, I can totally see that -- cus so much of what he went through was in those places. I hope you can get Hospice out of your life and never have to think about them or the hospital again! Maybe maybe part of it is the hope that we held that got so decimated? But for you, turning their back for a statistic -- that is the epitome of unforgivable and I've heard that before, the pinnacle of an example of what's wrong with our Health Care. We have one - and only one - hospital on the island. It's called Maui Memorial, and Ron and I used to call it Murder Memorial. We used to tell people, if you have health issues, DON'T move to Maui! It's just not good. That's why my friend was shocked when I called her and told her I just called 911 for Ron, I vowed I would never bring him there, but I had no choice in that moment. They took my gall bladder out when there was nothing wrong with it (it was kidney cancer they had missed), they left an IV wide open on me, my best friend's son got brain damage at birth there, on and on. And I do hate that place too. I usually do catering deliveries, and when some hospital staff there ordered from us, I sent someone else. I hate that place too. But it doesn't compare to this other hate. I couldn't imagine this level exists, or that I could hate more than I hate the hospital. But this is off-the-charts-double-down hate. From me, who has always felt legitimately puzzled when someone says "that must make you angry". Patty

I will go look at your articles, Marty, thank you. My anger is sooooooo directed at Hospice. And its not the people, it's not even the institution (I don't think). I think it's the place. Yes I had grievances at certain things that happened during it all, as I wrote about before. But in general, I could never hold on to anger at an individual, in fact, anger is something I just don't (usually) EVER have. An emotion I've always struggled with (finding in me). I am not even angry at cancer (why, I don't know, it's evil)... It is at that place. I don't know how to unravel it to take any of the heat off of it. I hate that place with such a passion I'm crying (at work) just writing this. Theoretically I know it is more that I hate what happened there. But I have no way to translate that from the hatred I have at that PLACE, that house, every inch of it burned into my memory that I seethe at. The place I lived, slept, ate, fed him, everything. The entryway, the living room, the hallway, our room, the patio... the faux brown fake wood floors, the "modern comfort" - EVERY detail I hate. I even hate how they have all these bright exterior lights lighting up every inch of the property that I drive by twice a day in darkness, once on the way to work, and once on the way home. It glows in the night for me to see, only its roofline showing above the cinder-block sound barrier wall between the road and the house. Also, if I get a letter from them in the mail, so far an invite to something and two surveys, I get SO SO SO angry. If I see their logo on a letter. I live in fear that a staff member will come into the shop when I'm out front, in that uniform. Anger is foreign to me, so foreign. I just don't understand it, and as you said Butch, it is probably bad for me physically and otherwise...

I sent a text off to my therapist last night about a possible partnership that may be forming for me with my business (!!!) A woman who volunteered when Ron was in Hospice really loves the business and is coming into some money that she does not need, and wants to be part of a business she is passionate about. It is great news, and it is throwing me deep into turmoil about moving on without Ron. I "am excited" although that doesn't really exist in me anymore.. as excited as I can manufacture, knowing it's a good thing, we are compatible, blah, blah. I want it, need it, and it's tearing my heart in half. Anyway, back to the "stages"... part of my text was telling her how I am, or more correctly, how miserable I was, since, after all, I was at home. It's always the same there. I told her Ron was everywhere and in everything I did and saw yesterday. And the pain of trying to move on was just overwhelming. I asked her if I should succomb to the sobbing that was in my throat or try to distract. She said there is no wrong thing there, either choice is ok, the only thing wrong would be to deny the feelings, and I wasn't, she thought. Denial of feelings though is different than the denial phase of grief, at least how I interpret it. Denial was the only stage I didn't understand before I experienced grief myself. I thought that it made sense for those who did not witness or were not close to the loss, and of course it made sense for sudden loss. How do you accept such a sudden drastic loss as real? But I saw him, I watched him go. And yet, I found myself in "Denial" (and not as the first stage). I'm not even sure I can explain it. It is kind of the "wake up from the nightmare" thing. But it was way more than that, it was, and sometimes is... "He HAS to still be here" it was emotional backpeddling, it was "WAIT, stop, WHAT?" a month or two later... it was a crack in my reality. Maybe even my sanity. It was double-takes. These are the points I found so poignant, of course Copyright to Megan Devine and the link you posted to Huffington: • Sometimes you will be tired of grief. You will turn away. And you’ll turn back. And you’ll turn away. Grief has a rhythm of its own. • Grief can be absolutely crazy-making. This does not mean you are crazy. • There is no way to do grief “wrong.” It may be painful, but it is never wrong. Remember that there is no “closure.” Grief is part of love, and love evolves. Even acceptance is not final: It continuously shifts and changes. The truth is, you will seize up in the face of pain and soften into it, again and again, both things in rapid succession, and both things with silence in between. You’ll find ways to live inside your grief, and in doing so, it will find its own right place. Your love, and your grief, are bigger than any stage could ever be. The only way to contain it is to let it be free. Thanks for sharing that Marg.

I join the Tuesday club 16 weeks ago today for me. I'm glad you found this place, Rdownes. We are all hanging on day by day, I'm glad you found this place. Sometimes I just leave it open to know its here. Sometimes I disappear into my grief for a week, but always know its here. It's an important place on this awful journey. I hope you find it so. Patty

Yes, totally, totally, totally HATE that word!!! Today's blunder And accident. just a place to share, thank you. I had someone coming in today that was supposed to tell me about putting an ad in a free magazine that's at the door of Safeway. $25/wk! They quoted. So I agreed to see the man. Turns out of course it is not $25/wk that is just what it averages out to. You have to pay a lot of it upfront and the rest in a few months. He was going on and on. I asked him if he knew anything about Maui Pasta. All the news coverage and all when Ron went into Hospice. No. So I told him in my numb-dry-eyed business face. About the struggle, about the financial difficulties of the business. He went on and on some more. He was pitching a lower price because I was hesitating. I was hesitating because in my head I was calling out to Ron - I so needed him to help. This is his world, not mine. I hate negotiating and everything like it. I didn't know what to do. I could feel myself slipping. He looked straight in my eyes and said, "You're not going to cry, are you???" UGGGGGGHHHH. Yes, I was. In front of this pushy ad salesman.. Of course, him saying that made it all the worse with no chance to hold on and gather myself. I just never, ever know if I'm making the right decisions about this business anymore. The rest of the day I'm just in a fog, but the fog is a movie reel, playing my Hospice life. And so, trying to help my prep cook decide if an avocado was ripe, I cut my thumb really badly. I slapped a whole bunch of bandaids on, I'm afraid to look. On days like today I just wonder if it's all worth it, this "dream" of ours turned nightmare. Thanks for letting me vent. Patty

UGGH Gin!! That's horrible! After getting up the courage to call and do that. I'm so sorry you had to deal with such a response after you've known him so long!

Thanks Kay! It could be a good match. We would move the location to a more popular and tourist-ridden part of the island, and start over, putting a new environment and shop in place together. It's very preliminary. I can imagine it. The pain of such a transition feels unbearable. But I know it is the right path, and Ron wanted such a move (we'd already looked into it), and would want me to have help. NO way I could pull that off on my own. When my daughter was here for the service, I asked her to trim my hair, but refused the color. I let her trim my hair for him. He used to do that, get rid of the stragglies of my long hair. I was able to let it happen when I was doing it for him, in my mind. I guess that's one way to inch towards the tasks I really must do. "What would Ron want?" is a powerful motivator -- doesn't work that often yet -- but it's the thing that comes the closest to working, and it does, on rare occasions.