Essay:
On a strictly intellectual level, I
expected I would outlive my husband since he was thirteen years my senior. Still,
recognizing this fact over the thirty two years of our time together and
dealing with the sudden end of our partnership are two different things.
When it happened, it kind of
sneaked up on me. In November 2003, around November 9, there was an eclipse of
the moon. We put up my eight inch Celestron telescope to watch part of it. That
evening I made chili and cornbread for supper. Jim did not eat a lot and began
to complain of pain in his back and abdomen. This rapidly worsened and I
finally convinced him to let me take him to the ER. We spent quite a few hours
there. They hooked him up to various machines and could not find anything that
wrong. The doctor gave us a couple of prescriptions for pain and suggested Jim
see his regular doctor the next day.
When we got home our little
Brittany Spaniel Butch had lost his footing on the vinyl floor and struggled so
hard he had lost the use of his hind legs. Thus I had two issues to deal with. Otherwise
I might have tried to preserve Butch’s life a bit longer but I just could only
handle so much. Jim took a lot of Ibuprofen and other pills that night and the
next morning collapsed in the bathroom and I barely got him back to bed. He was
a big man, 6’4” at his greatest height and close to three hundred pounds. I
called his eldest son in Bisbee who agreed to come right over. Meanwhile I went
to get the two prescriptions filled that we had not gotten the night before
since it was two or three o’clock when we got home. As I drove to Sierra Vista , I suddenly
had the odd thought: “This is the beginning of the end.” I did not yet know how
right that was.
 |
| Jim and Butch, 1995 |
Malcolm arrived and helped me get
his dad into the car to go see his doctor in Sierra Vista . There, he collapsed again in
the parking lot and the nurses came out and took him in with a wheel chair.
However the doctor did not take it too seriously and said he might have the flu
and to come back in a couple of days. Back home it was a struggle to get him in
the house. Malcolm and I used a rolling office chair which was an awkward wheel
chair.
The next thing I had to do was take
little Butch to the vet for the shot to release him from his suffering. When I
got back, the EMTs were there. Malcolm came out to try to ease me into it but
broke down while saying, “It doesn’t look good.” By then the EMTs had failed to
revive Jim and were waiting for an officer of the coroner’s office to pronounce
him deceased. Thus Jim and Butch had passed from this life within a few minutes
of each other. Malcolm and his step son had already dug a hole in the yard and
buried Butch that afternoon next to Alanna, a dog we lost in 1990.
I had lost
my dog and my husband in a single day. Jim’s dog, Sadie, a Lab-Setter cross, lived with me for three more years. In many ways the dual passing was totally
fitting. Butch was “my” dog but very
close to Jim also. And, November 10 is the official ‘birthday’ of the US Marine
Corps so Jim could hardly have chosen a more appropriate day to leave this
world since he was deeply proud of his service in the Corps and later in law
enforcement. I shortly wrote a couple of poems, one related to the Marines and for
living and previously deceased members of his boot camp platoon. It was shared
by another retired Marine who put it on his website where it was viewed by
many, some who sent me nice notes.
The telescope stayed in place,
covered with a tarp, for several weeks. I have used it very little since for
many reasons. I have to admit I never did a lot of crying and traditional
“mourning.” There was no tearing of hair and wearing black. For one thing, Jim
did not want a formal funeral so he was cremated as soon as the autopsy was
done—required since he died at home. I still have his ashes to be scattered
with mine someday. Our VFW held a small
memorial for him which I did not attend.
Based on outward signs, I suppose I
may have been viewed as unfeeling and cold. It certainly is not true that I was
unaffected or felt no sorrow; I am just a self-contained person, a trait
learned as a child and teenager from various experiences in those formative
years. I keep most of my feelings inside and express them in writing if at all.
It takes a week or two for the
reality to set in, I think. I went through that period in something of a fog.
Thanksgiving came and I went to Bisbee to the regular family gathering at my
daughter-in-law’s café and neighbors brought me a plate or two as well. I went
through December much the same as I focused on selecting things of Jim’s to
give to the kids and grandkids and making photo collages and an album to
commemorate his life.
I did very shortly begin getting
rid of things, perhaps an effort to make what had been our home my home. I
never again slept in the master bedroom in that house but used what had been a
guest room as mine until I moved. Suddenly it was 2004 and with the new year I
sensed I had to start thinking about where I was and what I would and should do
with the rest of my life. I was just sixty at the time and felt fairly sure I
had at least fifteen or twenty years ahead of me.
In many ways that is the hardest
part—the need to rediscover and reinvent yourself as a single individual, no
longer half a couple. In this perhaps I was helped by that self-contained
demeanor and by the fact I have always been rather independent and had lived
more or less on my own for some years before my marriage. I was capable of
doing many things and in the first five years I mowed my own 2/3 acre of
‘lawn’, serviced my evaporative cooler, changed tires and did some other small
work on the vehicles I had and then began some fairly extensive remodeling of
the house.
Yes, I worked through my grief in
busy-ness. This is not the right course for everyone but for me it seemed to
work. I also spent many nights reading until I could finally fall asleep at two
or three but still got up to let dogs out. In February 2004 I acquired a new
dog, a male Australian Shepherd I named Rico. Sadie was so disconsolate with
her master and dog-friend both gone that I was sure I needed another dog. They
never bonded as she had with Butch but I think he helped her survive, at least.
I soon got a fence put up around the larger half of the yard with help from
Malcolm and his step-son and felt safer about the dogs being able to go in and
out through the doggie door. I still got up fairly early most days, though I
did get a habit of a post-lunch siesta, and after I got my nice rocking
recliner, that was my nap chair.
Reading over my journals, which I
began again to keep about June of 2004, I realize I did suffer from a bit of
depression. That remains to this day. I am still not sure what to do with the
rest of my life although I have done a lot of writing—I created a new pseudonym
and alter-ego person who wrote erotic romance and even LGBT (mostly gay)
explicit love stories. I made a lot of jewelry, quilts and other art and craft
projects and when Sadie crossed the Rainbow
Bridge
Next. I moved a lot. After spending
five years in the home Jim and I had shared from 1983 to 2003 where I remained until
2008, the first move was to Hurley , NM near Silver
City Colorado
to share a home with my brother, arriving there on April 1, 2009. He lost the
lease on one house and we moved up the street that summer to another house
where we stayed until October 2011 when we moved to New
Mexico and settled in Alamogordo .
Is this permanent? Hard to tell but for now it is!
It’s been over twelve years. During
that time I had only one serious relationship which ultimately did not work
out, mostly due to issues involving his kids and family. Do I miss being part
of a pair? Of course. At times it is a very keen sense of loss and a hole in my
life but mostly I have come to accept and deal with it. I know I am now even
more independent and perhaps more touchy or prickly than I used to be, so
finding someone who could put up with me and with whom I could get along is
very iffy.
Friends are
good and I have quite a few, many only through the computer/phone or at least
most of the time since visits are rarer than I wish, but I am not daunted by a
lot of time alone. I have my two dogs who are great company and still share a
home with my brother. We have a strong and sound bond from the shared experiences
of our youth and past. We know when to stay out of the other’s way but are
there if needed. In some ways the best of both worlds, and I know I am
fortunate and blessed to have it.
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