Monday, November 22, 2010

22 = 2

I guess the 22nd of each month is going to be hard for me for awhile. Today marks 2 months since Vern passed (no, I still don't like saying 'died').  No one noted it, but the date's significance was with me from the moment I woke up this morning.

I did a quick Facebook check before heading off to work and saw a post from my dear UK friend. She had posted a new message on her blog, so even though I was running a bit late I took the time to read it because her husband has not been doing well and I've been so concerned.  Her news broke my heart.  H told her he is "very tired" and doesn't want to continue treatment.  H & Vern were both diagnosed in May 2006 and have had some similarities along their MM journeys. This news reduced me to tears and took me right back to mid-September when Vern said the same words to me.

Work continues to be a good place for me to be, as I only had a couple of brief teary moments while there.  But as I walked out to the parking lot after work, there was that great big full moon ... just like I saw on September 22 ... and the memories and tears returned.  I must admit I looked for my gold sparklies in the street when I came home. I so would have loved to see them today.

While reading Facebook posts this evening, I noticed the picture of a FB friend/MM patient that I hadn't seen post in awhile.  I went to her profile to see how she was doing and learned she passed away today.  RIP Karyn.  Stinkin' cancer ... stinkin' MM.

And then there's the mail ... labels that keep coming with Vern's name on them, unending requests from my insurance company to fill out questionnaires explaining Vern's accident and who we're going to sue (what???), and today there was an appeal from St. Rose's Health Foundation addressed to Vern asking for a donation from a 'grateful patient'. Sigh. Maybe it's not realistic, but since their palliative care nurse is the one who called hospice and he was transferred directly from San Martin to Nathan Adelson wouldn't you think they'd know he passed away? 

Kind of a crummy day all around, don't you think?  Although I really don't think these are bad things to experience. I understand they're all necessary feelings that are part of my mourning.  I miss Vern.

I do like writing my notes to him. It was a little hard getting started, but something happened over the weekend that I needed his advice on how to handle ... so I sat down with the journal and started writing.  Six pages later, I felt a lot better.


Anonymous said...

You are in my thoughts and prayers every day. Glad that the journal is helping. Love you, Sis.

Lori Puente said...

I remember a year after my father was killed active duty, I was 12, a man came to the door and asked for him. I had been struggling with "how" to say it, how to say he was dead, deceased, passed away, etc. I was just a kid. No one guided me on this one. I had been trying different things. Each time it was like an electrocution ran through my body. It was an awful feeling. This poor man got my worst attempt ever. "He's dead," I said. His face turned red. He didn't know what to say. "Well, that one doesn't work," I thought. Crap!

Dianne, I so enjoy your posts as you chronicle this leg of your MM journey. You wouldn't think it was exactly a pleasant read, but its very heartfelt, honest, and thoughtful.

I too have been crying over S & H. I'm so sad, and yet in such awe of them all.