It's Quiet Uptown

Readers know of my penchant for writing about Absent Friends.  For the last four plus years, I feared the coming of the day when I would be writing of the absence of the Greatest Friend of all, my wife, Marilyn.  Marilyn lost her nearly five year battle with cancer one month ago yesterday on October 12.  I have waited a month before even attempting to write anything about this awful event in my life, and as I type these words, I wonder if I will be able to finish.  So here goes...

It is a testimony to her that there were any number of people who have said to me words to the effect that "I never even realized that she was even sick."  Marilyn never wanted her illness to define her.  She wanted to forge ahead with her life - and our lives - as if nothing changed.  Annual dinner parties took place, holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries continued to be celebrated, neighborhood social events, and vacations continued to occur.  As always, she was always more concerned about everyone else (like me!) more than she was herself.  Once in awhile she would rail at the Unfairness Of It All, but she never once complained with a "why me?" attitude, and those moments passed quickly and she soldiered on.  She seemed to accept her fate and put herself in God's hands much more readily than I did.  In fact, I doubt that I will EVER get over the Unfainess Of It All, but I guess that is what made her such a good person, certainly a better one than I.

When the end came, it came quickly, and after fighting so long and so valiantly, she knew what it was right to say "it's over."  She was sad to be leaving all the many people who loved her, but she knew that God wanted, and maybe even needed, her back.  "Take care of yourself, and be okay" was the constant theme of all of our conversations in those final days.  She put others ahead of herself right up to the very end.

So here I am, one month later.  Volunteering for twelve years at the Caring Place has taught me a thing or two about grief and the nature of grief.  I have learned that grief is a journey that never ends.  That there will be good days and bad days.  Now I am experiencing that first hand, and learning that it is the little things, the mundane things, that really trip you up.  I could take delivery of her cremains from the funeral director and not bat an eye, but removing her toothbrush from the bathroom and throwing it away or replacing paper napkins  in the kitchen were acts that had me crying for 20 minutes.  (Yes, I said paper napkins. Those of you who knew her surely get the reference!) There have been and will be other such moments, "paper napkin moments" as I have come to call them.

One more.  On Thursday, I was at the Pitt football game at Heinz Field.  When it started to rain late in the game, others began pulling out their rain ponchos and putting them on while I just then remembered mine hanging in the closet at home.  "Well" I said "another example of how my life has changed.  No way in Hell that Marilyn would have let me out of the house without packing the poncho."  At least I was laughing about it.  Sort of.

I have been overwhelmed, truly, by the support of family and friends.  You expect it from Family, but the friends? Wow, what a treasure it is to have good friends.  Not only the people in our closest circle of friends, but people from church, both of our workplaces (I saw people from Highmark whom I hadn't seen since I retired), the neighborhood, from acquaintances on Social Media, and the staff and fellow volunteers from the Caring Place.  They absolutely embody the words of the Caring Place pledge: "I am here for you.  You are here for me. We are here for each other."  

I move forward.  I think of her constantly and talk to her every day.  This is the one "Absent Friends" post that I never wanted to write.  There is a void in my life that will never be replaced, but I know that I have to "take care of myself" and "be okay."  It's what she wanted.  I know that while it  may forever be quiet uptown, I also know that I will never stop telling her story.

One final word to the readers, if you are in a loving, committed relationship, married or otherwise, never let a day pass without telling your partner that you love him/her.

Wonder Women