It doesn't stop

I got a magazine in the mail yesterday. About kidney patients. Well, you're gone now, so why do they still send me this stuff? It brought back a myriad of painful memories, of moments that we had to live, hours, days, weeks and months. You waited.....you tried to be patient, strong, and hopeful. But you already knew, didn't you? You were never going to get the gift of life. It was torn from you, the joy of a grandchild, the love of your life, it was torn as surely as you rip the weeds out of the ground. The difference is that sometimes the weed comes back. You never will. At least not for real. Not to touch, too feel, to smell your skin. No, only in my deepest dreams do you venture back.

The grandson you have been protecting is here, and I know you have met him. I'm still holding you to the promises you made. I will keep mine, I will not let your life have been taken in vain. But I want to know that you will stand beside me, even as I stand alone, that you will help hold me up, even as I feel as if I want to fall, and that you will be there for the little grandson you know. I wonder what you told him? I saw him smile his angel dream smile, and I wondered if he was still in a special place that we mortals forget about when we get older.

Are you still walking in the park? I thought I saw you there with our dog...smoking a cigar, and walking slowly across the muddy grass. I drove up to look, but you were gone. Only the faintest whiff of that cigar. Or was it my imagination? I will take our little grandson there when the weather is warm. We will take a little walk, and I will begin to make little memories with him. They won't be the same, but they will be memories he can take with him in life.

As for those others, no, I won't let them forget. There were so many of them, so many, and they let you down.

I miss you honey, more than ever. It seems like yesterday that you were here, just a minute ago that we held hands. I know it's supposed to let up, the hurt, and sorrow of missing you, but no, it doesn't stop. I just manage it a little better in front of the world.

Grandpa, you're needed here!

Wish you were here

Well, it's all happening the way you said. Thank you for that. Thank you for your special love, I know you have kept your promise to me. I can't help it though. I can't help but miss you, each and every day of my life. How I wish you were here, to share the joy, to share this incredible feeling. No matter how close you may be to me, I still can't touch you or feel you. All I can say is thank you. I wish you were here.   

Another year....

Another year without him, another holiday with the sharp awareness of his absence! I remember his last Christmas! The reality was there, he knew, and he accepted the fate that awaited him. No longer could he speak with those he thougtht were close, he knew the truth. He ignored the calls. We were together, and for however long it would be, he would just be. Is that why holidays remind me of those days?  

He had no faith in promises and lies. Platitudes....they were just that, and he knew it. He loved what was left of the time God gave him, and tried to impart his strength as deeply as it would go. We talked for hours, and New Year's Eve is a precious memory. His laughter is still in the room, echoing, albeit silently, a tinkle of an ornament, a crackle in the fireplace. His love still surrounds us, and I am blessed to have been so loved. 

Yes, I know they read this blog. In Canada, in Germany, yet there is never a comment, never a word of sorrow. So, I think it's a little creepy that they are still so curious, that they still wonder what I write. Why would they care? So, to them I say, "Enjoy. The rest of the story may take you years to find on the Internet, so keep on looking. It is not for your eyes."    

But then, I smile, because of all the things he left behind, his love and tenderness were only for his family. His daughter and his wife, my mom, we were his family, his family of choice, the friends who he wanted to spend time with, were welcomed into our home with a loving heart. The rest, they didn't matter. He man so full of love, but he knew, he had no desire to be hurt anymore, and he wanted to live without pain, in every way. 

So, this year, I unburdened my heart and uncluttered my head. They no longer belong in my world, and I am grateful. They are not worth my time or energy, or even anger. It just takes too much of my time to dwell on what I could not change. I have spoken his words, and I will continue to live by his wishes.

There were so many of them, why couldn't one of them have come forward with a kidney. Why didn't one of them step up to the plate?

            

Good news

What wonderful news! Another life changed by a transplanted kidney. God Bless the donor family, and God Bless and take care of my friend and the family. I am so thankful that someone gave the gift of life, so unselfishly. My joy, at this wonderful news left me with happy tears. I know how hard this trip has been for them, and how much I prayed that the outcome would be like this. The road may be a little bumpy for a while, but I know that it will be ok. I know that her loved ones are grateful, and I am elated for them.  

Keep the circle of life going!    

Explanation please!

After much soul searching, many discussions with friends, I've decided to continue this story. I know that there are lots of folks reading this blog, and to those of you who read and forward so that others may learn, I thank you.  Whoever decided to hack my blog, don't think you can stop the inevitable. You can't change my mind. There will be new posts, I will continue to remind you of how and why my husband became ill and died. The story will not end until I am sure I have reached enough people, until I have made sure that his message is passed on.

There are many sources of information for people who are awaiting an organ transplant, there are many sites that help point you in the right direction, but each patient is different, each family different, and without personal experiences that need to be shared, no matter how painful, it will always be something that happens to others, not to YOU or YOUR LOVED ONES!

It has not been easy. In fact, it has been heart wrenching to remember my husband's illness, our fight to save his life, and then, his untimely death.

I have said in previous posts that the denials continue, to this day, and I wonder why? No, it will not bring him back, but perhaps it would help others to understand what happened and why! While it is true that we know the source of his infection, it has never been a subject for discussion nor prevention. That's sad! That's ridiculous! Yes, I suppose I have had to get over the searing anger and the disgust, it was counterproductive to my goal, but I am shocked at what has transpired in the last few months.

First, why would someone who had a very definitive role in a Canadian dialogue on transplantation try to hide the dates from me so I would not attend? Why? Canadians come to the US for health care services, and as a border city, we share a great deal of medical knowledge. So, while I may not even have spoken, I would have attended simply to hear what others had to say. To educate myself in the Canadian perspective. Yes, I know what was said, yes, I know what happened. Even though I did not attend!  Ultimately, I would think if there was nothing to hide, then he would have been forthcoming about what was going to transpire. I am in a quandry though....why the lies? Why the subterfuge? I'm aware that they also follow this blog. Are they afraid of the truth? Did they not think I would know the details?

There are no gray areas here. Black and white reality! Yes, I know what happened. As my husband would say, "Step up to the plate!" But then, they never did, did they?      

Quiet heart

Today is a day, like most other days, the difference lies only in the sweet smell of the summer flowers wafting in the wind. The butterflies and bees are busy, and I watch them go on their predestined path. I wondered how it would be, today, if things were different? If he was still here.....

I had heard that there is more dialog in Canada, regarding Tissue and Organ Donation, and was heartened by the blog I added to the blog roll. The man who write these posts has added many sites that are useful, and sites that he has researched well. I thank him for that. Each person can make a difference in this life, no matter how small or large, it can mean the difference between life and death, between hope and despair.

This blog began as a way for me to keep my promises to my husband, to continue to speak of what can be done for others, to ask why. Yet as I look at the myriads of hopeful stories, the successes of the transplant recipients, the progress in medicine, it makes my heart hopeful. These stories are uplifting, they renew my faith in humanity. Each story, a miracle in itself, restores the faith that was lost to me for a very long time. I am aware that there will be no answers forthcoming, I know that I will never understand why my husband was taken, young and vibrant, full of love and compassion, before he had lived his life fully. But then again, who has not spoken those words after the loss of a loved one? I suppose the knowledge that he lives on in my heart is a small but precious reminder that he was on this earth.

I know that his story has been read, by many people, in many different parts of the world. Yes, it was a painful experience, but it was a neccessary journey for me. To have spared myself would have been so wrong, and to have embelished or omitted the truth would have been inconceivable. I see the butterflies and bees, they are a part of the little miracles in life. I believe in miracles.     

   

Happy Birthday Darling

Today is my husband's birthday. Today, I thank God that his mother gave birth to the man I called my husband, my friend, my love.

Unassuming, but charming. Loving and kind. Opinionated and passionate. He was all of those things and more. I look at the sky, as blue as his eyes, and think of him with gratitude for the years we spent together, the morning coffee, and the evening wine. The laughter and the music. For all those moments of our lives, there is a deep yearning. It will not return, I know, but what we shared lives on in my memories, in my heart, and in all the things he touched.

We speak of him, those who cannot and will not forget him. It's hard to imagine that he has been gone for two years, two birthdays. It seems like only yesterday that he was here, putting on his golf shoes, checking his bag to make sure he had everything, knowing that he would be back in a few hours. It seems like an eternity that I have held his hand, or felt his touch.

He isn't coming back today. He's golfing on a celestial cloud. Did he get a third hole in one?

I love you and I miss you, husband mine.