And the anger still boils up at times...

As I stated in my last post, so long ago, I got married on 24 Jan 09 to a wonderful woman. She knows my flaws and past, loves me anyway, and has done much to bringing me back to normal. That is why I hate being pulled back into the painful past at times.

Yes, I know the past is there and cannot be forgotten. I do not want to forget it, I just want it to stay in the little box I created for it. Yeah, I know that will not work either.

I am happy, things are going well, life is good. For months after Cyndie killed herself I could not imagine ever saying those things again.

I think it is because things are going well that being pulled back into anger and pain is such a pain. Anyone who has ever lost someone will recognize how hearing a song or seeing a movie clip will bring back the memory of the lost one, bring back that pain. My particular problem with this is that I am so heavily involved in music. I have it playing almost all the time. Why is this a problem? Well, I exposed Cyndie to large body of music for the first time, especially classical, but also people like David Wilcox. If you do not know him, search him out. I can no longer listen to him and have deleted all his song files from my computer. Did the same with Mozart and Meatloaf. Both of them are too closely associated with her, and car trips, and lazing after making love.

However, that is not why the anger is back, I think. OK, I am not really sure. I think the real trigger was moving picture files off my computer and onto disk for storage. To do that, you have to look at them. Some were family type, some alone, some innocently intimate. All were twelve years of my life and seeing each one was like raking nails across a scab. Eventually it comes off and you bleed a bit. It is a self inflicted wound and you are angry with yourself for making it bleed and angry at the circumstances that lead to the first injury.

I do not want to lose my memories, I do not want to forget. There was much good in our life together, most of time together was good in fact. I want to look back without anger.

The new love in my life understands and accepts this. She has her own anger issues with the women who hurt me and our children so bad. I am actually glad to hear that from her, not sure why. When I spend a couple of days in a blue anger funk she always accepts and understands, leaving me room as needed. I know it hurts her and I feel some guilt about that, which she understands, but sees no reason to feel upset about. She is upset for and not at me. Yeah, I got lucky and I know it and tell her with every I love you.

So, the anger still pops up as we begin to approach the second anniversary of Cyndie's suicide. I try to accept it. Try to let it wash through me. Try not to scratch at the scab. I try to understand. I am so glad that I am not alone.

What a long, strange trip it has been - Part I

To recap: In November 2007, my wife committed suicide while I was in Afghanistan. I considered eating my gun or walking out into a mine field, but friends took my gun, sat with me and one even escorted me home to Charleston, SC.

The kids rallied around me. My friends rallied around. I survived the first week and the funeral and the cremation and the aching emptiness of a house not only empty, but bereft of life.

I had/have a good therapist and anti-depressants and made some promises. First promise I made was to scatter her ashes in the water at Isle of Palms beach in April '08. I knew this promise would make me hang on for a time and let the hole in my heart, in my life, scab over. I kept that promise and I kept the promise to the kids to not leave them without a father. I have been in wars, been poor, been homeless, been ill - holding the promise to the ash scattering and to my children was the hardest thing in my life.

I was not perfect. I broke my hand twice on inanimate objects - doors mostly. I went to a biker bar, picked a fight and beat the hell out of a stupid redneck, breaking my hand again. It felt good and I am not sorry I did it. However, I am ashamed at my lack of control for wanting to get into a fight. I realize it was part of a death wish.

I did not work for over a year, living on my pension and my savings. I ended up virtually broke.

My health went to hell as I stopped taking care of myself. My immune system took a dive and my thyroid went berserk and tried to kill me. This was one of the things that pulled me out, odd as that may sound. I went to the Dr, found out I was about two days away from a massive stroke and started to take care of the issue. It is still a problem, but is being controlled and I am getting better.

However, let me give credit where credit is due. I have a friend who was/is in love with me. She knew that love would go no where as I was married, but loved me anyway. She had her own struggle after my wife's suicide, not wanting to capitalize on the opportunity of a tragic act or take advantage of my grief, but wanting to be there for me. On my part, I nearly dropped contact on my way into my hermit crab shell. Long story short, we negotiated the mine field of issues, my therapist was so much help there I cannot thank her enough, and allowed love to grow.

Still shortening the story, my friend is now my love and on Saturday, 24 Jan 09, we will be married in front of family and friends. My kids love her and support the marriage and the ones who physically can will be in attendance.

I have more to say about working out if love was an option and dealing with death and the, "am I using her as a replacement", issue, but for now I can only say I got lucky. I am in love with Wendy as a separate and distinct person, and I want to marry her.

Good things can happen.

Death in the family - Again

Death in the family - Again

Gary Steven D, age 61, my second eldest brother, died after a long illness last Sunday. A short statement and one that cannot hope to encompass a rich life, that cannot capture how much his family loved him, that cannot capture how much he loved others, how he loved life.

Gary had a joy for life, a zest for it. He was a competitive swimmer in his youth, played baseball, and was a city star in High School football, often playing both offense and defense, a true 60 minute player. He was a Boy Scout, one of the youngest Eagle scouts ever, and a member of the Order of the Arrow along with earning a wealth of merit badges. The outdoor life suited Gary, he loved doing things and watching things and making things and learning about the world about him. He was also an excellent cook and once made a Thanksgiving dinner which his family still remembers as one of the best ever eaten, no mean feat among so many decades of holidays.

He won a football scholarship after High School, but was not ready for college at that time. He joined the United States Marines and did a tour in Vietnam in the artillery. He was lucky enough to escape physical injury, but the experience troubled his spirit. For all his ruggedness and outdoor spirit Gary was a sensitive man, moved by a good poem or movie. Moved by his love of family and friends. Moved by art and beauty.

Following the war, he returned to school, joined the United States Navy and became an X-Ray technician, working in several hospitals both in and then out of the Navy. However, he was increasingly plagued by ill health, some possibly due to his service in Vietnam. He faced each problem and each crisis with courage and perseverance. Finally, his body was too tired and he passed away from us, his loving and loved daughter by his side.

In the novel "Two Years Before the Mast", by Henry Dana, he relates an incident. A self important captain of a small coastal steamer, a carrier of cheap tinware and the like, was in the habit of hailing all ships he met to boost his own small ego. One day he hailed a ship dimly seen in the morning mist, crying out in his small and squeaky voice, "What ship is that, and whence, and whiter?" Out of the mist sailed a tall and majestic schooner laden with billows of snow white canvas sails, and a deep booming voice replied, "The Begum of Bengal, 128 days out of Canton, China, carrying the spices of India to Boston Harbor, homeward bound! What ship is that, whence and wither?"

This just crushed the little skipper and he humbly replied, "Only the Marianne, two hours out of harbor, bound for Kittery Point and carrying nothing in particular." He was humbled, as we all are at times. Humbled as Gary is, as we all are, by death. But for most of his life, Gary was not the humble Marianne, he was the majestic Begum of Bengal, 61 years out, heading for harbor and rest.

I miss him.

And so it goes

I survived the medical treatments and am, while not exactly healthy, better than I have been for a long time.

I also leave today to meet a sweet friend and ask her to come live with me and share the rest of my life. She knows my flaws, including that I am still getting over the death of my wife last year, and still wants to be with me. I fly today to NM and then we will drive back to Charleston SC together. A large blonde Lab will occupy the rear half of the car, if not slightly more. It will be nice to have love, laughter, and a dog in my house once again. Correction in our house, no more lonely.

I will probably post once or twice more here, and then I will let it die out. I hope to let this chapter in my life wind down. It will never end, there is too much history, and grown children and grandchildren to remind and be reminded. It is time to move on, time to stop crying except when I want to cry.

Suicide is the ultimate act of selfishness and leaves pain in its wake. If anyone reading this is considering suicide, please seek help. A cliche, but true none the less. If anyone reading this is the victim of suicide and needs to talk, write here and I will try to reply. I will continue to check this blog for that possibility.

To well wisher and friends, thanks. I made it this far.

And still more good news

Liver is fine. Initial blood tests showed issues but cat scans and follow-up tests have shown it is normal.

Only thing left now is thyroid. If I can find someone to accompany me, I can get that scheduled soon. Not sure why someone has to take me home, i.e., sign for me. I have driven home from worse things. Ah well, just something to be solved and I really should not complain.

All for now.

And a little more good news

Thyroid has to go, and sooner rather than later, but evidence for cancer is small, as the cancer should be, if present at all. Treatment for the thyroid, radiation kill, should make that issue moot. With any luck, will have the treatment/surgery by the middle of August. Short recovery period and then back overseas to work.

Liver is still iffy. Blood test show something, cat scan does not. Still working on it.

Just wanted to share some good news.

Things to Do

First off, sorry did not mean to sound so mysterious on Pharyngula. I am just going to be away for an extended period and got a little sloppy sentimental. I have enjoyed that blog and (most of) the people. I may be back before xmas.

I am not fine, I am not truly well, but I am probably not in mortal danger. I am going to focus on my health, mental and physical, for a while and that will take most of my attention and probably a little hospital time. If I am well enough, I will head back to work in Autumn. My work is overseas in various trouble spots and the available bandwidth in such places is usually barely capable of supporting email. Even if I am not truly well, I have to work - personally and financially.

Best news for last. I have found someone who loves me without conditions and knowing exactly what I am and what damages I carry. I will talk about this more later. It is a good thing.

All for now, cheers to all.