sky40 va Posted November 21, 2004 Report Share Posted November 21, 2004 My husband died in August, 2004 of brain cancer. We were blessed to have a few years together after surgery, chemo and radiation, but that time was also plagued by a continual decline in his abilities. I am 45, he was 56 when he died too young. Our dreams are lost. Certainly I know he is whole and not suffering any longer but that sometimes doesn't lessen mine. I am disabled so I have each and every day to deal with my loss. A wise woman told me to throw my books away and look for my answers inside. I don't have answers, but I do have a lot of journal entries and I thought I might share one. "A Role of Film":A Role of Film I found it in my 35 mm camera. An almost complete role of film. My heart did a few pounds more than normal - that camera hadn't been used since the last time Jim and I went to Duke, May 24th, 2004. I remember the trip because it was incredibly hot for that time of year. Plus, I was bound and determined that we wouldn't do our usual rush down and back, but find some time to use our cameras. It was something we shared and loved. How glad I am now that I was stubborn. Our first and primary stop was the Butterfly Museum. It had become an oasis of calm for us already and we had visited, but never with enough time to just sit and take the pictures we wanted. I can see Jim wandering, composing his shots, it was always rare to find him without a camera, but using the full equipment was his joy.Then on to see the Tobacco Museum. Mercy it was so hot. Jim wanted to look at all the exhibits and it was a day I didn't feel very good. It was a Tuesday, the 25th. That is locked into my mind because my care-giver called from home on the cell when we were outdoors. Jim wandered ahead while I dealt with some home emergency or another.Now 3 months after his death I find this role of film. And it scares me to develop it. But I shoot the 3 remaining pictures and take it to Wal-Mart. Go for one hour but can't get them since I have been diagnosed with shingles and feel horrid.So the next day I pick them up on the way back from taking Phoebe, my queen bee, to the vet since SHE was sick (I am seeing a trend here). And yes, these are my last shots at the tobacco museum. And some are actually good architectural shots. But one stands out:At the time I am confident this was a wave hello, or a simple hey there. Now, it looks like a wave goodbye.By the next week we would have our first 911 call, by the end of June, Jim resided at Richfield. Even with tears in my eyes as I say goodbye to my love again, how lucky we were that we never gave up, never gave in. Him to his cancer, me to my CFS. We may have been tired, worn out, but it is my hope that Jim died with memories of places and experiences that he loved.There's a role of film in his camera that needs to be shot off, and I've yet to find his small camera. Surprises still.................. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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