Archives: January 2004
Sun Jan 18, 2004
Thanks for all the kindness
I never intended for the last entry to be Gary's death, I just needed some time to get my thoughts together. Not that they are really together now, but a little less hazy.
I've been busying myself with a make-shift life for now --- unnecessary errands and projects, distractions to pass the hours. It may be "make-shift" for now but I have faith that it will turn into a "normal" life one day. I just saw our friend Jim Rafferty and we were talking about how single events, like the day Gary was diagnosed with leukemia, really shake you to your foundation. How it becomes painfully clear that what you assume life is going to be is absolutely not the way it's going to turn out. There's no preparation for it.
The kids and I have had terrible colds for the past week and we are all just recovering now. Patrick is at Gary's mother's house for the night and Lib is with my mom. I have the place to myself and I should be cleaning the kitchen. That's why I'm writing in the journal.
It has been a great comfort to go to my mailbox since the funeral, and open the many cards that arrive everyday. I always thought sympathy cards were inadequate consolation to folks and I don't always send them, but now that I'm on the other side, I take comfort in the cards people selected for me and the precious notes friends had the courage to write in them. The numerous emails that were lovingly sent to me before and after Gary's death, and the many comments in the journal are also a cherished legacy for me and for the children to read in the future.
On a slightly funny note, last Friday (the 9th) I was inticed by my friends Nan and Dana to join them for happy hour at James Joyce Pub downtown. Libby was at Mom's and Patrick was with Linda (Gary's mom). So I though it would help to be out with friends and suspend reality for a while, hang out and have a fun evening. We had a great time chatting about nothing important and sharing a few beers together. I walk though my door around midnight, whereupon the phone rings. I answer it, now concerned as to who is calling me at midnight, only to have my Mom tell me that Linda has had to take Patrick to Union Memorial Hospital because he has a high fever and is vomiting. Hmmm. Before I even hang up the phone my Aunt Sue has arrived to drive me to the hosptial to be with Patrick. I guess it's a good attribute, but I never really freak out about things like this -- I knew Patrick was sick, but I also know my pediatrician (who Linda had called) sent him to the hospital as a precaution. So I wasn't too worried. The only thing I'm thinking about on the ride to the hospital is that I reek of smoke from the bar and probably have beer on my breath. I feel like Mother of the Year: my husband has just died, my son is in the ER and Momma's out partying. I didn't beat myself up too bad, I just had to shake my head at the way things go sometimes. Patrick is fine, just a cold. And I may or may not go out with my friends again. Might be too dangerous for the children.
More later when I have more cleaning to avoid. I miss Gary, as I'm sure all of you do in some way. Life's a bit lopsided and askew at the moment. What I though would be, isn't and what is, dosn't seem real.
Love to all--
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