It's finally over. This incredibly difficult, awful, sad year is finally drawing to a close. I never thought it would end. But, in the same breath, I can't believe it's actually ending so soon. Weird...I know.
Last year at this time, I was sitting at home with Jason. He had just gone through surgery to remove the tumor, so we had just gotten home from the hospital a few days before this and we were very much in a celebratory mood. Because of the surgery, though, we couldn't really do much for NYE other than stay at home. We went shopping for some appetizer items and then had a few friends over to ring in the new year. It was a quiet affair, but a wonderful one nonetheless. My favorite part...kissing those beautiful lips at the stroke of midnight.
That's why my heart hurts today...still 14 hours before the new year. I won't be able to kiss that beautiful man this year at the stroke of midnight. I won't be able to feel his arms around me as we hug and hope for good things in the coming year. That first hug and kiss ringing in 2009 had so much hope surrounding it. 2009 was supposed to be OUR year. It was supposed to be the year that our relationship blossomed. It was supposed to be the year that we merged our lives into one. It was supposed to be the year that he beat cancer. Our relationship did blossum, but we were just a week shy of merging our lives into one before cancer beat him. I guess one out of three is better than none. But, it's just not fair.
2009 held a few good things, though, that shouldn't go unnoticed. It was definitely a big award-winning year. I won an Emmy Award, an Edward R. Murrow Award, a National Headliner Award, and a few other small ones. We raised $11,000 for TEAM JASON and the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society becoming the #1 team in Dallas and #3 team in the state. We're already close to $10,000 ahead of the game for 2010! My station won it's first ever 10pm ratings period in November...which I'm extremely proud to be a part of. It's a pretty great accomplishment when you consider where we were a year ago.
I've met some incredible people throughout this year. Most of them are in the cancer world, and have been a huge support to me through all of this. A few of them, fellow widows, have become a truly amazing friends in a very short amount of time. One of them says I was placed in her life for a reason, but I think the same can be said for her in my life. I'm extremely thankful to have their support on this journey, and I think that's one of my greatest things of 2009.
So, as we count down to 2010 tonight, I will take a few moments to remember, but only a few moments. New Year's Eve is all about looking forward to the year to come...not about where you've been. I want to remember where I've been, but I also want to hold my head high and be filled with hope that 2010 is going to be the GREAT year that I deserve. I'm turning 30 in 2010. I hope to land a new job in 2010. TEAM JASON will be more successful in 2010. I'll get my passport in 2010, and finally take that trip to London I've always wanted to do. I'm going to spend more time for ME in 2010...something I haven't done in many, many years.
My friends, I wish you all the best for 2010. I know many of you reading this have had rough years in 2009. But, let's rejoice together tonight...knowing that there's only good things ahead of us. Be safe tonight in whatever you do and start 2010 off right!
I love you all.
Happy New Year --
Stuart
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
My Relationship With Grief
I learned a little bit about my relationship with grief tonight. It's something that I didn't know I knew, but in talking with my friend Casey, I realized it.
Five minutes from now, it will be December 28th. It will be 7 months to the day that Jason passed away. However, until 3 hours ago when I was reminded what tomorrow's date meant, I didn't think of tomorrow as anything but Monday. The date didn't occur to me, and I didn't think about the significance of the 28th. I'm sure it would've hit me at some point when I saw the date written down on an email or something. But, it struck me that I hadn't been obsessing about the date like I have all previous 28ths since May.
It made me think about grief like a budding relationship. You know when you first start a relationship, you're so excited that you count all the little anniversaries for a while. You count the weeks, then the first few months. But, by six months, you kind of lose track and after that, the only anniversaries that really matter are the years. I feel like that's the way I am with grief now. We had a new relationship that started on May 28th. You can even see in my first blogs that I tracked it by weeks, then by months. It kinda fits.
I guess this means that I'm becoming comfortable in my relationship with grief. Perhaps the "honeymoon period" we all go through in new relationships is over. Now we can get down to the nitty gritty of our relationship and find out what makes each other truly tick. That will help when it comes time to sever ties and break it off...whenever that may happen. Knowing your enemy inside and out only makes you smarter and stronger to kill it.
I told Casey tonight that I'm tired of living my life from 28th to 28th. For once, I just want the 28th to be another day...not the date that marks the anniversary of the darkest time in my life. I didn't forget about that date. Last week, it was staring at me from my calendar, and I made sure that I booked the day up full of work so I would keep my mind occupied. To me on the outside, it's going to be like any other day. On the inside, though, I'll know.
Until next time --
Stuart
Five minutes from now, it will be December 28th. It will be 7 months to the day that Jason passed away. However, until 3 hours ago when I was reminded what tomorrow's date meant, I didn't think of tomorrow as anything but Monday. The date didn't occur to me, and I didn't think about the significance of the 28th. I'm sure it would've hit me at some point when I saw the date written down on an email or something. But, it struck me that I hadn't been obsessing about the date like I have all previous 28ths since May.
It made me think about grief like a budding relationship. You know when you first start a relationship, you're so excited that you count all the little anniversaries for a while. You count the weeks, then the first few months. But, by six months, you kind of lose track and after that, the only anniversaries that really matter are the years. I feel like that's the way I am with grief now. We had a new relationship that started on May 28th. You can even see in my first blogs that I tracked it by weeks, then by months. It kinda fits.
I guess this means that I'm becoming comfortable in my relationship with grief. Perhaps the "honeymoon period" we all go through in new relationships is over. Now we can get down to the nitty gritty of our relationship and find out what makes each other truly tick. That will help when it comes time to sever ties and break it off...whenever that may happen. Knowing your enemy inside and out only makes you smarter and stronger to kill it.
I told Casey tonight that I'm tired of living my life from 28th to 28th. For once, I just want the 28th to be another day...not the date that marks the anniversary of the darkest time in my life. I didn't forget about that date. Last week, it was staring at me from my calendar, and I made sure that I booked the day up full of work so I would keep my mind occupied. To me on the outside, it's going to be like any other day. On the inside, though, I'll know.
Until next time --
Stuart
Friday, December 25, 2009
Christmas Day Has Come And Gone
Well, it came, and now it's gone...almost. There's still a few hours left.
It was Christmas Day like none of us ever wanted to spend. Together...without Jason. We all woke up with a timid feeling about the day. Its tradition for the Harmons to break open the stockings first thing, and then enjoy eggs benedict for breakfast, followed by a hurried opening of the rest of the presents. So we did everything according to plan.
In my stocking - which was Jason's stocking, by the way - were two frogs (Jane knows the significance...since the medium talked about frogs), and a couple other various things. I should also note that as we were opening our stockings, there was music in the background. And lo and behold, what should come on? FELIZ NAVIDAD. I announced to the others that Jason was most definitely here with us.
Breakfast was delicious, and then it was time for presents. I had already given mine. I paid for the framing of the Team Jason shirt autographed by the Ugly Betty staff. I also created a photo book of Team Jason at the Light The Night Walk. In return, I received two very sentimental things. One of them was a beautiful figurine called "Heart of Gold". It's a little boy holding a heart of gold close to his chest. The saying attached to it says "You will always have my heart." I, of course, burst into tears after I was told that this was from Jason. Of course, it wasn't REALLY from Jason, but that didn't matter. It was from him. The second present that sent me into a tizzy is probably the most thoughtful gift I've ever received. It's a beautiful drawing/painting of a ship that Jason did himself back in 1980 - the year I was born. He would've been 10 or 11 at the time. At the bottom, it even says "Jason '80". I'll attach a picture below.
Holding this piece of art, this thing that he created with his own two hands was just the icing on the cake. And what's funny - I received a message the day before from my widow-friend Casey who had received a piece of art from her dead husband's family that he had drawn in grade school. I think it's incredible that we both received these gifts. And what's even weirder...is that in my session with the medium, she brought up receiving art, seeing art, and having art. I wonder if that's what all of this meant now. Something to ponder, I suppose.
Anyway, after the last presents were opened, we relaxed and cleaned up a bit. Ron and I decided to venture over to the cemetery to see Jason. Jane stayed behind. She couldn't handle it. Ron and I stood there at his grave and both of us were overcome with emotion. On this holiday he loved so much, it felt incredibly sad that he was not there with us in the flesh. After a short time, we retreated to the car and sat there for a moment trying to regain our composures. However, not 1 minute after arriving back at the house, I was sobbing in the arms of Jason's mother screaming "It's just not fair!" I quickly calmed down after realizing it was not in good form to be standing in this woman's kitchen bawling my eyes out on her shoulder. This was her son, after all. She should be the one using MY shoulder...which she did later.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. It's now 10pm, and we're all in our respective rooms getting ready for bed. I leave here tomorrow afternoon (hopefully with all this crappy weather). It'll be a bittersweet goodbye. I've had a wonderful time here this trip, but I probably won't be back here until the end of May to observe the 1 year anniversary. Hard to believe that's just 5 months away. It's quite amazing how fast time goes by. Quite sad, too.
Until next time --
Stuart
Here's the picture of Jason's artwork:
It was Christmas Day like none of us ever wanted to spend. Together...without Jason. We all woke up with a timid feeling about the day. Its tradition for the Harmons to break open the stockings first thing, and then enjoy eggs benedict for breakfast, followed by a hurried opening of the rest of the presents. So we did everything according to plan.
In my stocking - which was Jason's stocking, by the way - were two frogs (Jane knows the significance...since the medium talked about frogs), and a couple other various things. I should also note that as we were opening our stockings, there was music in the background. And lo and behold, what should come on? FELIZ NAVIDAD. I announced to the others that Jason was most definitely here with us.
Breakfast was delicious, and then it was time for presents. I had already given mine. I paid for the framing of the Team Jason shirt autographed by the Ugly Betty staff. I also created a photo book of Team Jason at the Light The Night Walk. In return, I received two very sentimental things. One of them was a beautiful figurine called "Heart of Gold". It's a little boy holding a heart of gold close to his chest. The saying attached to it says "You will always have my heart." I, of course, burst into tears after I was told that this was from Jason. Of course, it wasn't REALLY from Jason, but that didn't matter. It was from him. The second present that sent me into a tizzy is probably the most thoughtful gift I've ever received. It's a beautiful drawing/painting of a ship that Jason did himself back in 1980 - the year I was born. He would've been 10 or 11 at the time. At the bottom, it even says "Jason '80". I'll attach a picture below.
Holding this piece of art, this thing that he created with his own two hands was just the icing on the cake. And what's funny - I received a message the day before from my widow-friend Casey who had received a piece of art from her dead husband's family that he had drawn in grade school. I think it's incredible that we both received these gifts. And what's even weirder...is that in my session with the medium, she brought up receiving art, seeing art, and having art. I wonder if that's what all of this meant now. Something to ponder, I suppose.
Anyway, after the last presents were opened, we relaxed and cleaned up a bit. Ron and I decided to venture over to the cemetery to see Jason. Jane stayed behind. She couldn't handle it. Ron and I stood there at his grave and both of us were overcome with emotion. On this holiday he loved so much, it felt incredibly sad that he was not there with us in the flesh. After a short time, we retreated to the car and sat there for a moment trying to regain our composures. However, not 1 minute after arriving back at the house, I was sobbing in the arms of Jason's mother screaming "It's just not fair!" I quickly calmed down after realizing it was not in good form to be standing in this woman's kitchen bawling my eyes out on her shoulder. This was her son, after all. She should be the one using MY shoulder...which she did later.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. It's now 10pm, and we're all in our respective rooms getting ready for bed. I leave here tomorrow afternoon (hopefully with all this crappy weather). It'll be a bittersweet goodbye. I've had a wonderful time here this trip, but I probably won't be back here until the end of May to observe the 1 year anniversary. Hard to believe that's just 5 months away. It's quite amazing how fast time goes by. Quite sad, too.
Until next time --
Stuart
Here's the picture of Jason's artwork:
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Merry Christmas, My Love
It's 11pm on the east coast...in one hour, it'll be Christmas. It was one of Jason's favorite holidays...if not THE favorite.
Being here in his childhood home...without him...it's really hitting home for me. Tonight, his parents hosted their annual Christmas Eve Neighborhood Block Party...an event Jason always looked forward to. Our first year together, I remember watching and hearing how excited he got as Christmas drew closer. He looked forward to coming home so he could plan out a menu, cook, and then entertain all his old childhood friends and neighbors. He loved it, and came home afterwards with a renewed sense of himself.
Tonight, I was here in his place. Physically, anyway. It was very much evident that Jason was here with us tonight. Nothing happened particularly to clue us in, but it was evident in the stories people told about him...stories of Christmases past...stories of shenanigans and other misdeeds. We laughed, a few of us cried a little. I almost felt like I was sitting back watching a movie play out before my eyes... as if Jason was still here. I pictured him moving around the room serving drinks, food, and making small talk with people he only sees once a year. I pictured him coming over and sitting next to me on the couch...putting his arm around me, or putting his hand on my leg. He'd whisper things into my ear...little naughty tidbits about the people in the room, and we'd share a laugh together and steal away a kiss while no one was paying attention.
But instead, I sat alone in a room full of people I barely knew. But, it was comforting in a strange way...I had Jason's past sitting right before me. These people watched him grow from a baby into the man I fell in love with. That's why I felt like he was here with us tonight. The major points of his life were represented in that room, and it was a beautiful thing.
So, as Christmas day draws closer by the minute, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Hug your loved ones a little tighter, and hold on a little longer. You never know what can happen in the year to come. Don't take your life for granted. That's something I've learned from Jason.
Merry Christmas, my love. I hope your present to me is a visit tonight in my dreams. I'd love to see you, hug you, hold you, and kiss you again. I couldn't think of a better gift.
Until next time--
Stuart
P.S. - I'd like to wish Charissa & Casey a Merry Christmas, as well. You both have been amazing to me these last seven months. You've been my counsel, my confidants through this whole ordeal. I think we were each brought into each others lives for a purpose...to help each other through this. Charissa, I thank G-d that Kairol posted that article of yours that day. It's what brought you into my life. And Casey, I'm so lucky to have met you. I'm so glad that I've been able to help you through this most horrible time. I'm glad I've been able to offer you some guidance, even though I really have no clue what I'm doing myself. The three of us are on this journey together. And while we're each in different spots, we all have one thing in common...we all loved our significant others so much...and we all continue to miss them so much every single day.
Being here in his childhood home...without him...it's really hitting home for me. Tonight, his parents hosted their annual Christmas Eve Neighborhood Block Party...an event Jason always looked forward to. Our first year together, I remember watching and hearing how excited he got as Christmas drew closer. He looked forward to coming home so he could plan out a menu, cook, and then entertain all his old childhood friends and neighbors. He loved it, and came home afterwards with a renewed sense of himself.
Tonight, I was here in his place. Physically, anyway. It was very much evident that Jason was here with us tonight. Nothing happened particularly to clue us in, but it was evident in the stories people told about him...stories of Christmases past...stories of shenanigans and other misdeeds. We laughed, a few of us cried a little. I almost felt like I was sitting back watching a movie play out before my eyes... as if Jason was still here. I pictured him moving around the room serving drinks, food, and making small talk with people he only sees once a year. I pictured him coming over and sitting next to me on the couch...putting his arm around me, or putting his hand on my leg. He'd whisper things into my ear...little naughty tidbits about the people in the room, and we'd share a laugh together and steal away a kiss while no one was paying attention.
But instead, I sat alone in a room full of people I barely knew. But, it was comforting in a strange way...I had Jason's past sitting right before me. These people watched him grow from a baby into the man I fell in love with. That's why I felt like he was here with us tonight. The major points of his life were represented in that room, and it was a beautiful thing.
So, as Christmas day draws closer by the minute, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Hug your loved ones a little tighter, and hold on a little longer. You never know what can happen in the year to come. Don't take your life for granted. That's something I've learned from Jason.
Merry Christmas, my love. I hope your present to me is a visit tonight in my dreams. I'd love to see you, hug you, hold you, and kiss you again. I couldn't think of a better gift.
Until next time--
Stuart
P.S. - I'd like to wish Charissa & Casey a Merry Christmas, as well. You both have been amazing to me these last seven months. You've been my counsel, my confidants through this whole ordeal. I think we were each brought into each others lives for a purpose...to help each other through this. Charissa, I thank G-d that Kairol posted that article of yours that day. It's what brought you into my life. And Casey, I'm so lucky to have met you. I'm so glad that I've been able to help you through this most horrible time. I'm glad I've been able to offer you some guidance, even though I really have no clue what I'm doing myself. The three of us are on this journey together. And while we're each in different spots, we all have one thing in common...we all loved our significant others so much...and we all continue to miss them so much every single day.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
He's Here With Me
Jason is here with me. I know he is. I felt him here, and it made me laugh.
We spent most of today running errands and doing some shopping. But, there was an hour in the middle of all of that when I stole the car and went to the cemetery alone. I trudged my way through the 7'' of snow that's still on the ground to get to Jason's graveside. I stood there in silence for a few minutes until a breeze began to blow across my face.
That's when I started to cry. That breeze almost felt like the breath of someone standing next to me, and for a split second, I looked to see if anyone was there. There was no one. I spoke to Jason and told him how much I miss him. Not a day goes by...no. Not an hour goes by that I don't think of him, miss him, long for him, and love him. He's been gone for nearly seven months yet the love I felt for him the day he died hasn't gone away. It never will. If anything, I'd say it's gotten stronger.
Some might say that's not a good thing. Some might say that the more time that passes from a loved one's death, love shouldn't grow stronger. Sure, it will never go away... but growth might lead one to believe that I'm far from getting over him. So what if I am? Who's right is it to say? No one.
I stood there talking to him for what seemed like an hour. I walked around to the back side of the stone where his name is engraved. I touched it with my hand. I could feel the cold granite through my glove, and it made me cry. I spoke about this in a previous blog when I was here and the stone was just put up. There's something about seeing his name etched into that stone that just kills me. It's so hard to see. It's so hard to look at. Every time I look at it, I have this war in my head...because one half of my mind doesn't believe it and the other half is screaming for the other half to accept it. It still just doesn't seem real.
After about 30 minutes, I couldn't feel my face anymore (It didn't get above 25 today), so I started to leave. I stood in front of his grave one more time and pleaded with him to show me a sign that he's with me on this trip. I told him I needed to know that he's with us...that he's celebrating Christmas with his family. Sobbing by now, I finally turned to leave. I got in the car, switched it on, and I got my sign. As soon as I turned the car on, the song that had been playing on the radio finished and Feliz Navidad came on (Read my previous post about this song).
I heard the first three notes of the song and I immediately began to laugh. I knew that was him. I knew he was saying "Ok, here's your stupid sign." I sat there in the car parked in the cemetery directly in front of his grave and laughed, sang along, and danced in my seat. I knew he was sitting right next to me in that car. The song ended, but I didn't leave. I sat there for another 15 minutes texting some friends a picture I took of his grave (picture below). I said a few more things to him, and then I drove off. No more tears. He's here.
Until next time--
Stuart
He looks festive, doesn't he?
We spent most of today running errands and doing some shopping. But, there was an hour in the middle of all of that when I stole the car and went to the cemetery alone. I trudged my way through the 7'' of snow that's still on the ground to get to Jason's graveside. I stood there in silence for a few minutes until a breeze began to blow across my face.
That's when I started to cry. That breeze almost felt like the breath of someone standing next to me, and for a split second, I looked to see if anyone was there. There was no one. I spoke to Jason and told him how much I miss him. Not a day goes by...no. Not an hour goes by that I don't think of him, miss him, long for him, and love him. He's been gone for nearly seven months yet the love I felt for him the day he died hasn't gone away. It never will. If anything, I'd say it's gotten stronger.
Some might say that's not a good thing. Some might say that the more time that passes from a loved one's death, love shouldn't grow stronger. Sure, it will never go away... but growth might lead one to believe that I'm far from getting over him. So what if I am? Who's right is it to say? No one.
I stood there talking to him for what seemed like an hour. I walked around to the back side of the stone where his name is engraved. I touched it with my hand. I could feel the cold granite through my glove, and it made me cry. I spoke about this in a previous blog when I was here and the stone was just put up. There's something about seeing his name etched into that stone that just kills me. It's so hard to see. It's so hard to look at. Every time I look at it, I have this war in my head...because one half of my mind doesn't believe it and the other half is screaming for the other half to accept it. It still just doesn't seem real.
After about 30 minutes, I couldn't feel my face anymore (It didn't get above 25 today), so I started to leave. I stood in front of his grave one more time and pleaded with him to show me a sign that he's with me on this trip. I told him I needed to know that he's with us...that he's celebrating Christmas with his family. Sobbing by now, I finally turned to leave. I got in the car, switched it on, and I got my sign. As soon as I turned the car on, the song that had been playing on the radio finished and Feliz Navidad came on (Read my previous post about this song).
I heard the first three notes of the song and I immediately began to laugh. I knew that was him. I knew he was saying "Ok, here's your stupid sign." I sat there in the car parked in the cemetery directly in front of his grave and laughed, sang along, and danced in my seat. I knew he was sitting right next to me in that car. The song ended, but I didn't leave. I sat there for another 15 minutes texting some friends a picture I took of his grave (picture below). I said a few more things to him, and then I drove off. No more tears. He's here.
Until next time--
Stuart
He looks festive, doesn't he?
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Back in Bean Town
Hello from Boston. I'm finally over the excitement of my "mile high blog" from earlier. It's the small things in life that bring the most pleasure. LOL :)
Anyway, it was pretty much down to business after I landed. I met up with Jason's dad, Ron, and headed for Hudson. We had a pretty good chat on the drive in. We talked about his work, my work, Jason...and we talked about my psychic/medium reading from a couple weeks ago. Jane (Jason's mom) had filled him in on just a few points about it, so I gave a few more details. I'm not sure he was entirely sold on it, but I'm vowing to continue working on him. I think Jane really wants to do it, but won't without Ron.
So, after lunch, Ron and I drove to the cemetery to see Jason. There's a beautiful blanket...or really a down comforter of snow on the ground. There's about 8-10'' still covering parts of the area...including the cemetery. So, we didn't get out of the car...as neither of us were wearing the correct footwear to go traipsing through 8'' of snow to get to the grave. But, I was able to say hi and blow him a kiss before we drove away.
Once at the house, our work began. We were charged with beginning the cleaning process and getting the house decorated for the upcoming Christmas Eve Neighborhood Bash they host every year. Apparently everyone (including myself) protested that they were still planning to do it this year, but they didn't listen to anyone. I'm starting to have a change of heart, though, and believe it might actually be a good idea. We each had a few moments today while decorating the tree...something Jason loved to do (at his home...not his parents...they drove each other mad doing this stuff). But, I think these moments NEED to happen in order for everyone to grasp the situation and deal with it.
So for the next day and a half, it will be party central around here. Jason was usually home in time to do all of the cooking because he was quite the amazing chef. So, this year, they've hired a caterer to do the job. We'll be out getting the food, some more presents, and other odds and ends that will be needed (like booze...and lots of it). I'm REALLY glad I'm here for them during this time. I think this is going to help me a lot more than I thought it would...seeing them dealing with their grief head-on and what-not. I think this is all a good step.
Until next time--
Stuart
Anyway, it was pretty much down to business after I landed. I met up with Jason's dad, Ron, and headed for Hudson. We had a pretty good chat on the drive in. We talked about his work, my work, Jason...and we talked about my psychic/medium reading from a couple weeks ago. Jane (Jason's mom) had filled him in on just a few points about it, so I gave a few more details. I'm not sure he was entirely sold on it, but I'm vowing to continue working on him. I think Jane really wants to do it, but won't without Ron.
So, after lunch, Ron and I drove to the cemetery to see Jason. There's a beautiful blanket...or really a down comforter of snow on the ground. There's about 8-10'' still covering parts of the area...including the cemetery. So, we didn't get out of the car...as neither of us were wearing the correct footwear to go traipsing through 8'' of snow to get to the grave. But, I was able to say hi and blow him a kiss before we drove away.
Once at the house, our work began. We were charged with beginning the cleaning process and getting the house decorated for the upcoming Christmas Eve Neighborhood Bash they host every year. Apparently everyone (including myself) protested that they were still planning to do it this year, but they didn't listen to anyone. I'm starting to have a change of heart, though, and believe it might actually be a good idea. We each had a few moments today while decorating the tree...something Jason loved to do (at his home...not his parents...they drove each other mad doing this stuff). But, I think these moments NEED to happen in order for everyone to grasp the situation and deal with it.
So for the next day and a half, it will be party central around here. Jason was usually home in time to do all of the cooking because he was quite the amazing chef. So, this year, they've hired a caterer to do the job. We'll be out getting the food, some more presents, and other odds and ends that will be needed (like booze...and lots of it). I'm REALLY glad I'm here for them during this time. I think this is going to help me a lot more than I thought it would...seeing them dealing with their grief head-on and what-not. I think this is all a good step.
Until next time--
Stuart
Flying High
Its a first for me. I'm blogging from 33,000 feet! In flight wi-fi is the greatest thing!
When I sat down on the plane, I was immediately transported back to April...Easter weekend when Jason and I were taking this very flight heading to Boston. Little did we know it would be his last trip alive.
I sat here remembering every detail I could about him that day. I loved to fly with Jason because he got so excited about it. He was like a little kid. He loved fliying so much, and the excitement was intoxicating. Thinking about it this morning made me smile. I picture him sitting next to me in the window seat glaring out the window trying to figure out what runway we were going to use.
I'm also reminded that as I sit on this plane, someone in Dallas is preparing paperwork for today's closing on Jason's house. Its a bittersweet day. I don't want to see it go, but I do because now I think I can truly begin to slowly let go. The last piece of the puzzle has been put into place, and I can now begin to look at the whole picture.
So, I will say ciao for now...from 33,000 feet above the U.S. So cool! See you in Boston!
Until next time--
Stuart
When I sat down on the plane, I was immediately transported back to April...Easter weekend when Jason and I were taking this very flight heading to Boston. Little did we know it would be his last trip alive.
I sat here remembering every detail I could about him that day. I loved to fly with Jason because he got so excited about it. He was like a little kid. He loved fliying so much, and the excitement was intoxicating. Thinking about it this morning made me smile. I picture him sitting next to me in the window seat glaring out the window trying to figure out what runway we were going to use.
I'm also reminded that as I sit on this plane, someone in Dallas is preparing paperwork for today's closing on Jason's house. Its a bittersweet day. I don't want to see it go, but I do because now I think I can truly begin to slowly let go. The last piece of the puzzle has been put into place, and I can now begin to look at the whole picture.
So, I will say ciao for now...from 33,000 feet above the U.S. So cool! See you in Boston!
Until next time--
Stuart
Monday, December 21, 2009
Influence Lasts Beyond Death
I had to share this with all of you. It's so amazing, and just makes me beam knowing that the man I love is STILL influencing people from the other side. It's unbelievable.
So, back on May 28th - the day Jason died - I sent an email to our "blast list". It was the list we had been using for months to keep everyone on both of our sides updated on Jason's progress...or lack thereof. One of the many people who responded to my email on the 28th was named Lauren. She wrote some pretty sweet things about Jason...and then ended with this:
"There is no profound reason that I can come to for all of this. But I can tell you that, because of what you and he went through, I registered at the national marrow donor registry. If I ever get the call and a life is saved - it's because of you two. (It's one of those things that I would have thought 'oh, I should do that'...but never would have gotten around to it.) I suppose you could call it a mark of a greatly-lived life: inspiring others to do/be better and benefit others.... "
This afternoon, I got an email from Lauren again that made me completely break down (this is an excerpt):
"Well, a few weeks ago I did get a call that I may be a possible match. It looks great on paper, and now I've gone in to get tissue typed. All I know is that it's a 40 year old man with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. I'm still awaiting word of whether I am the closest match. Thus far, I haven't heard anything, but I have hope. I can think of no better way to honor my friend than to do this.
Even if it isn't meant to be this time, another call in the future will make me that much more likely to donate (as they will already have done the preliminary tests). It's already a small miracle I received a call just a few months after registering....the woman who took my blood had been on the registry for 12 years, but was never contacted. Hopefully this is just a prelude to something bigger.
As I said, I'd wanted to wait to get a final answer...but if Jason taugh me anything, it's not to wait. So I just wanted to share this with you. And, I'd be grateful if you could share it with his parents as well. If you are anything like me, you may think you still see him or feel him from time to time. This is perhaps the most tangible 'sign' I've had...and the one that has offered the most encouragement as well. I just wanted you to know and share in this part of the journey with me."
Isn't that just one of the most incredible things?! I just can't get over how AWESOME this is. This woman - because of Jason's brave fight - felt inspired to join the registry, and now she might have the chance to save someone else's life! I mean... I just... there aren't words. There just aren't. It's just an incredible feeling to know the man I loved, the man I watched slip away... can still have this unbelievable impact on people's lives. I wish I could just reach out and hug this woman!
Anyway, I just had to share this with all of you. I'm literally beaming with pride tonight. I'm so proud of her, but most of all, I'm proud of Jason for being the inspiration he was...and continues to be for so many people. Truly the mark of an amazing man.
Until next time (next time will be in Boston) --
Stuart
So, back on May 28th - the day Jason died - I sent an email to our "blast list". It was the list we had been using for months to keep everyone on both of our sides updated on Jason's progress...or lack thereof. One of the many people who responded to my email on the 28th was named Lauren. She wrote some pretty sweet things about Jason...and then ended with this:
"There is no profound reason that I can come to for all of this. But I can tell you that, because of what you and he went through, I registered at the national marrow donor registry. If I ever get the call and a life is saved - it's because of you two. (It's one of those things that I would have thought 'oh, I should do that'...but never would have gotten around to it.) I suppose you could call it a mark of a greatly-lived life: inspiring others to do/be better and benefit others.... "
This afternoon, I got an email from Lauren again that made me completely break down (this is an excerpt):
"Well, a few weeks ago I did get a call that I may be a possible match. It looks great on paper, and now I've gone in to get tissue typed. All I know is that it's a 40 year old man with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. I'm still awaiting word of whether I am the closest match. Thus far, I haven't heard anything, but I have hope. I can think of no better way to honor my friend than to do this.
Even if it isn't meant to be this time, another call in the future will make me that much more likely to donate (as they will already have done the preliminary tests). It's already a small miracle I received a call just a few months after registering....the woman who took my blood had been on the registry for 12 years, but was never contacted. Hopefully this is just a prelude to something bigger.
As I said, I'd wanted to wait to get a final answer...but if Jason taugh me anything, it's not to wait. So I just wanted to share this with you. And, I'd be grateful if you could share it with his parents as well. If you are anything like me, you may think you still see him or feel him from time to time. This is perhaps the most tangible 'sign' I've had...and the one that has offered the most encouragement as well. I just wanted you to know and share in this part of the journey with me."
Isn't that just one of the most incredible things?! I just can't get over how AWESOME this is. This woman - because of Jason's brave fight - felt inspired to join the registry, and now she might have the chance to save someone else's life! I mean... I just... there aren't words. There just aren't. It's just an incredible feeling to know the man I loved, the man I watched slip away... can still have this unbelievable impact on people's lives. I wish I could just reach out and hug this woman!
Anyway, I just had to share this with all of you. I'm literally beaming with pride tonight. I'm so proud of her, but most of all, I'm proud of Jason for being the inspiration he was...and continues to be for so many people. Truly the mark of an amazing man.
Until next time (next time will be in Boston) --
Stuart
It's Done
Yesterday at approximately 2:45pm, I stepped out of the house on Dunhaven that I was supposed to be sharing with Jason for the very last time. As I was taking my final walk through - acting like I was checking to see if there was anything left behind - I reminisced about all the times Jason and I spent in each of those rooms. I paused in the master bedroom for a longer moment remembering the conversations we had lying in bed - conversations no couple should ever have to have until much later in life. I moved into the kitchen and then stopped in the dining room. I stood on the very spot where Jason's hospital bed was...the very spot where he took his last breath. That's when I started to cry.
A few tears fell as I took my final steps in that beautiful home. But the full-on waterworks didn't start until Jerrod and I were standing outside and watched as the realtor locked up the house, got in his car, and then drove away. That's when I fell apart. I cried on Jerrods shoulder...once again mourning another loss in this horrible tragedy that just keeps on reviving itself. Though, I think this was the last revival.
Everything is now gone. Jason is gone. The house is gone. All of his things are gone. It's done. All I have now are memories and a few keepsake things. Memories are powerful things, and they're things I'll have with me for the rest of my life. The house would've gone away eventually. Those things inside it would've disappeared one by one anyway. So, I should be happy that I get to hang on to the things that will last forever. I should be happy. But, I'm not.
Click here to see pictures of our beautiful home before it was torn apart by the move. I'm not sure how long this link will stay active.
Until next time --
Stuart
A few tears fell as I took my final steps in that beautiful home. But the full-on waterworks didn't start until Jerrod and I were standing outside and watched as the realtor locked up the house, got in his car, and then drove away. That's when I fell apart. I cried on Jerrods shoulder...once again mourning another loss in this horrible tragedy that just keeps on reviving itself. Though, I think this was the last revival.
Everything is now gone. Jason is gone. The house is gone. All of his things are gone. It's done. All I have now are memories and a few keepsake things. Memories are powerful things, and they're things I'll have with me for the rest of my life. The house would've gone away eventually. Those things inside it would've disappeared one by one anyway. So, I should be happy that I get to hang on to the things that will last forever. I should be happy. But, I'm not.
Click here to see pictures of our beautiful home before it was torn apart by the move. I'm not sure how long this link will stay active.
Until next time --
Stuart
Friday, December 18, 2009
First Round Is Over
Well, the first round of movers has come and gone. Everything in the pile you saw in the video that's for Jason's parents is now loaded up on a truck and being hauled to Boston. Everything in the bedroom we shared is now gone.
It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I didn't expect that today would be so hard. I really expected that tomorrow would be the worst part...because then the house will be entirely empty. I was cautious about today, but I really didn't think I'd have the reaction I did.
I was doing ok through most of the packing and moving. It wasn't until they started moving the bedroom stuff out of the house that I nearly lost it. I had to literally bite my cheek over and over and over again to keep myself from breaking down right there in front of the movers. They didn't know who I am...and they certainly didn't know the backstory of this place. I didn't want to make myself uncomfortable or them, either. So I held it in.
After everything was done and all the paperwork was signed, I said goodbye to the movers and shut the door. Within seconds of the door closing, I was on the floor gasping for air as I was crying uncontrollably. It all just came flooding out at once. It was like the tears and emotions were in a mad dash to get out of my body. I couldn't control it, and frankly, I didn't want to. I let it out for about 5 minutes straight, and then I picked myself up, dried my face, blew my nose, and that was it. Breakdown over.
So now I'm thinking to myself...if today was that hard, what is tomorrow going to be like? Will it be easier because all the extremely personal stuff is gone? Or, will it still be hard because the place will truly be empty after it's done? I guess we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?
Even though I was here by myself today, I had a lot of support, and I could definitely feel it. People were leaving me messages on facebook and twitter. I can't thank everyone enough for all the love and support. This chapter is almost closed. Just a little bit more to go.
Until next time --
Stuart
It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I didn't expect that today would be so hard. I really expected that tomorrow would be the worst part...because then the house will be entirely empty. I was cautious about today, but I really didn't think I'd have the reaction I did.
I was doing ok through most of the packing and moving. It wasn't until they started moving the bedroom stuff out of the house that I nearly lost it. I had to literally bite my cheek over and over and over again to keep myself from breaking down right there in front of the movers. They didn't know who I am...and they certainly didn't know the backstory of this place. I didn't want to make myself uncomfortable or them, either. So I held it in.
After everything was done and all the paperwork was signed, I said goodbye to the movers and shut the door. Within seconds of the door closing, I was on the floor gasping for air as I was crying uncontrollably. It all just came flooding out at once. It was like the tears and emotions were in a mad dash to get out of my body. I couldn't control it, and frankly, I didn't want to. I let it out for about 5 minutes straight, and then I picked myself up, dried my face, blew my nose, and that was it. Breakdown over.
So now I'm thinking to myself...if today was that hard, what is tomorrow going to be like? Will it be easier because all the extremely personal stuff is gone? Or, will it still be hard because the place will truly be empty after it's done? I guess we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?
Even though I was here by myself today, I had a lot of support, and I could definitely feel it. People were leaving me messages on facebook and twitter. I can't thank everyone enough for all the love and support. This chapter is almost closed. Just a little bit more to go.
Until next time --
Stuart
Thursday, December 17, 2009
It's Almost Time
We're now just two days away from the final move out of Jason's house. I've been doing my best NOT to think about it this week, and I've done a pretty good job. But, the closer it gets, the more it breaks into my mind and steals every thought.
At first, I keep thinking about everything that has to go. Then I wonder if we've got everything packed up that needs to be packed up. Then I question whether or not the Salvation Army will take everything we're expecting them to take. And then finally, after I've run through all of the "logistical" thoughts, the emotional ones come to the forefront. Then it's "I can't believe this is actually happening," and "It's like saying goodbye to Jason all over again."
Yesterday, I was out shooting a story and wasn't paying attention as we were driving back to the station from our shoot location. All of a sudden, I looked up and we were driving right by Jason's street. My heart skipped a beat, and I became very sad. My photographer noticed the change in me, too, and asked what was up. Needless to say, he felt terrible that he drove by that area...but I assured him it was ok. He didn't know. And besides, am I just supposed to avoid that area forever because it'll make me sad? Hardly. It's a beautiful area of town.
Talking with my new friend & fellow widow, Casey, we both wondered if sometimes the anticipation of a bad event is worse than the actual event itself. That's why I've been doing my damndest this week to keep my emotions and my mind in check. I don't want to psyche myself up for something that isn't going to be that bad. But, then I think...what if it is that bad, and I didn't psyche myself up enough? It's a horrible catch-22, and once again, I wish there was someone who I could turn to for an answer, but there's no one.
I guess we'll see what happens. The first round of movers will be at the house on Friday morning to remove the things that are going to Jason's parents in Boston. The second round of movers will be there Saturday afternoon to collect everything else for the Salvation Army. And then the house will be empty...filled with nothing by my memories, pain, and probably tears (and some Kleenex).
Closing is on Tuesday the 22nd...the very same day that I'm leaving Dallas to go to Boston. That's going to be a tough day.
By the way - I'm totally obsessed with this new webcam thing and video chatting...so I'm gonna try to shoot a video blog at Jason's house Friday and Saturday so you can see it before it's no longer ours.
Until next time--
Stuart
At first, I keep thinking about everything that has to go. Then I wonder if we've got everything packed up that needs to be packed up. Then I question whether or not the Salvation Army will take everything we're expecting them to take. And then finally, after I've run through all of the "logistical" thoughts, the emotional ones come to the forefront. Then it's "I can't believe this is actually happening," and "It's like saying goodbye to Jason all over again."
Yesterday, I was out shooting a story and wasn't paying attention as we were driving back to the station from our shoot location. All of a sudden, I looked up and we were driving right by Jason's street. My heart skipped a beat, and I became very sad. My photographer noticed the change in me, too, and asked what was up. Needless to say, he felt terrible that he drove by that area...but I assured him it was ok. He didn't know. And besides, am I just supposed to avoid that area forever because it'll make me sad? Hardly. It's a beautiful area of town.
Talking with my new friend & fellow widow, Casey, we both wondered if sometimes the anticipation of a bad event is worse than the actual event itself. That's why I've been doing my damndest this week to keep my emotions and my mind in check. I don't want to psyche myself up for something that isn't going to be that bad. But, then I think...what if it is that bad, and I didn't psyche myself up enough? It's a horrible catch-22, and once again, I wish there was someone who I could turn to for an answer, but there's no one.
I guess we'll see what happens. The first round of movers will be at the house on Friday morning to remove the things that are going to Jason's parents in Boston. The second round of movers will be there Saturday afternoon to collect everything else for the Salvation Army. And then the house will be empty...filled with nothing by my memories, pain, and probably tears (and some Kleenex).
Closing is on Tuesday the 22nd...the very same day that I'm leaving Dallas to go to Boston. That's going to be a tough day.
By the way - I'm totally obsessed with this new webcam thing and video chatting...so I'm gonna try to shoot a video blog at Jason's house Friday and Saturday so you can see it before it's no longer ours.
Until next time--
Stuart
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Packing And Pain...Part 2
Well, we're done...for the most part. We've got the entire kitchen packed up. Everything in the closets is packed up and ready for the movers. There's just a few small things here and there, but all in all...I'd say, it's done.
Once I got back into it (after my little blogging break earlier), and after I got some people here to help me, we got it done pretty quickly. It's amazing how fast you can pack up someone's entire life.
Now we just have to wait for the movers to show up, and I'm sure that's when my next breakdown will happen. It'll be tough to see all of the things that have a little essence of Jason attached to them be marched out the door and into a stranger's truck. But, alas, it's got to happen. I can't keep holding onto this forever. It's been almost seven months now. It's time to let go a little bit more.
This is a big step, and I think it's going to be the "final straw" in opening up my grief wound. After we unload the house and all its contents, there won't be anything left here of Jason...except for the few possessions I'm taking from the house and the memories I have tucked away in my brain. After this house is sold, Jason will officially have no more ties to Dallas. That's going to be a weird feeling.
It's off to a Christmas party tonight where I can assure I will be drinking my weight in alcohol. I need it after all of this crap today.
Until next time --
Stuart
Once I got back into it (after my little blogging break earlier), and after I got some people here to help me, we got it done pretty quickly. It's amazing how fast you can pack up someone's entire life.
Now we just have to wait for the movers to show up, and I'm sure that's when my next breakdown will happen. It'll be tough to see all of the things that have a little essence of Jason attached to them be marched out the door and into a stranger's truck. But, alas, it's got to happen. I can't keep holding onto this forever. It's been almost seven months now. It's time to let go a little bit more.
This is a big step, and I think it's going to be the "final straw" in opening up my grief wound. After we unload the house and all its contents, there won't be anything left here of Jason...except for the few possessions I'm taking from the house and the memories I have tucked away in my brain. After this house is sold, Jason will officially have no more ties to Dallas. That's going to be a weird feeling.
It's off to a Christmas party tonight where I can assure I will be drinking my weight in alcohol. I need it after all of this crap today.
Until next time --
Stuart
Packing And Pain
I've probably cried more in the last two weeks than I have in the last four months. It's been an extremely emotional time lately, and I think it's all starting to come to a head.
Jason's house is officially sold. The closing date which was set for December 30th has just been moved up to December 22nd. I'm leaving town the 22nd to go to Boston, so everything's gotta be done before then anyway. However, the reality of that date and how close it's going to come is just now setting in...and it's killing me.
This weekend and next, we'll be packing up the entire house to move it all out. Most of the stuff is going to be donated to the Salvation Army. Some of it's coming with me, some with his friends, and the rest will go to his parents. So, here I sit...alone in the house trying to pack. I've already had one complete breakdown (on the phone with his mom...not good). I've just recovered from that, and decided I should probably sit down for a bit. Writing helps.
As I stood there wrapping all of the plates in the kitchen with paper and placing them gently in the box that will carry them out of the house, I began seeing flashes of dinners we had together. I began seeing flashes of the times we spent laughing and playing around in the kitchen. I came across a decorative plate with Faneuil Hall painted on it. It's a Boston landmark...and one that Jason and I visited together when we were there in April. I was immediately transported back to that night...walking hand in hand through downtown Boston. We walked through Faneuil Hall, and then down to the Boston Aquarium and right onto the water. We stood there in the cold and talked. It was a beautiful night...one I'm glad I remembered. It's amazing what a simple plate can do.
But that's when I started to cry. The tears flowed because all of these things, these material things that have the power to transport me to another place are going to be disappearing in the next two weeks. The memories they'll leave behind will still be there, but it's just not the same. This is so incredibly hard. On one hand, I wish I could just blink and have it over with...just rip the band-aid right off. But, on the other hand, I feel like I need to have this time, these extremely sad moments, because they're all a part of the grief that's consumed me. An interesting catch-22, I guess.
The thought of getting up from this couch and going back in the kitchen to continue packing leaves me feeling nauseous. But, it's got to get done.
Here goes...
Until next time --
Stuart
Jason's house is officially sold. The closing date which was set for December 30th has just been moved up to December 22nd. I'm leaving town the 22nd to go to Boston, so everything's gotta be done before then anyway. However, the reality of that date and how close it's going to come is just now setting in...and it's killing me.
This weekend and next, we'll be packing up the entire house to move it all out. Most of the stuff is going to be donated to the Salvation Army. Some of it's coming with me, some with his friends, and the rest will go to his parents. So, here I sit...alone in the house trying to pack. I've already had one complete breakdown (on the phone with his mom...not good). I've just recovered from that, and decided I should probably sit down for a bit. Writing helps.
As I stood there wrapping all of the plates in the kitchen with paper and placing them gently in the box that will carry them out of the house, I began seeing flashes of dinners we had together. I began seeing flashes of the times we spent laughing and playing around in the kitchen. I came across a decorative plate with Faneuil Hall painted on it. It's a Boston landmark...and one that Jason and I visited together when we were there in April. I was immediately transported back to that night...walking hand in hand through downtown Boston. We walked through Faneuil Hall, and then down to the Boston Aquarium and right onto the water. We stood there in the cold and talked. It was a beautiful night...one I'm glad I remembered. It's amazing what a simple plate can do.
But that's when I started to cry. The tears flowed because all of these things, these material things that have the power to transport me to another place are going to be disappearing in the next two weeks. The memories they'll leave behind will still be there, but it's just not the same. This is so incredibly hard. On one hand, I wish I could just blink and have it over with...just rip the band-aid right off. But, on the other hand, I feel like I need to have this time, these extremely sad moments, because they're all a part of the grief that's consumed me. An interesting catch-22, I guess.
The thought of getting up from this couch and going back in the kitchen to continue packing leaves me feeling nauseous. But, it's got to get done.
Here goes...
Until next time --
Stuart
Monday, December 7, 2009
An Incredible Experience
A few blogs ago, I talked about going to see a psychic/medium to help me connect with Jason. I did that tonight, and I have to tell you that it was an INCREDIBLE experience. I wasn't sure I believed beforehand, but I certainly do now. I recorded the conversation, and just spent the last couple hours transcribing it so that I could post it and explain the things she was discussing. This is not the entire conversation - as it's really long, but it's the highlights. K stands for Kathleen - her name. S stand for me...Stuart.
K: Tell me the me the relationship of this person that you're wanting to connect with to you... is it a blood relative?
S: No, he was my partner.
K: Ok. This was a recent passing. I get real recent.
S: Uh huh.
K: Right, ok. He's really powerful. My next question was do you have anything of his that I can hold, but I don't think I'm going to need it to be honest with you. You carry something with you, though, on your person. Do you have like a messenger bag or some just your wallet?
S: Yeah
K: Ok, is there something in your wallet?
S: Yes, there is something there.
K: Ok, because he's really thrilled about this...Let me tell you what he's telling me, because then you'll understand it. Alright, I've got to slow down...he's really talking fast. J, first of all, too...he's showing me a big J. Is that his first initial or something?
S: Yeah.
K: He's doing that because he said he really needs to know it's really me.
S: Yeah, I do.
K: He says the thing that you're carrying in your wallet, it's about him...he's either had it a long time...he keeps showing me elongated...
S: It's a very old picture
K: Oh ok good...
S: He was 3 I think in that picture
**When I was in Boston in August, Jason's mom gave me a small photo of Jason peeing in the backyard. It's something silly, but it meant a lot to me. I've kept it in my wallet since then.**
K: And first of all, I'm really really sorry. I can feel the grief from him too.
S: Thank you.
K: Just know that's going both ways. Three years...did something significant happen between the two of you?
S: No, we didn't know each other three years ago.
K: Did you guys know a mutual friend three years ago?
S: No.
K: and you weren't together for three years?
S: No.
K: I'm trying to get him to tell us more about three years ago. Ok. He says three years ago...there was something that was significant for you and your life, and significant in his life that you probably talked about later once you got together...but....he says if that event hadn't happened for you and this one hadn't happened for him...the two of you probably wouldn't have connected. And I think it's a move, but I don't know which one.
S: That's for me
**I moved back to Dallas three years ago.**
K: He says see how the universe slammed us...because he's going like this...slammed us together. But it's like when you meet...it's like, oh my gosh...where have you been all my life. It's like immediate. He says again, it's that soul connection. It's giving me goosebumps. You guys have done this before...in previous lifes... Do you collect frogs?
S: No
K: He's talking about someone collecting frogs, and he wants them to know that he's going to continue to add to their collection or put frogs in their path. So it might be for somebody...a family member perhaps.
S: Ok
K: Just pass on the message.
**I learned later that one of Jason's dear friends (Rob) collects Frogs. I gave him the message.**
K: You don't live here...you're not from here?
S: No, I am...from Plano, but he's not.
K: Ok. Let me say what he said then...because I don't understand. He said that you're going to go home for the holidays.
S: I'm going to his home.
K: Oh...and it's not here?
S: No.
K: That's so cool that he knows that. You guys have so much emotion...I'm trying to fight back tears. I want you to know the emotion that he's trying to put out there. He understands that you're...you love him so much, but he understands that it's ok to get very angry about the fact that he's gone. He understands that you're going to have bouts of anger... he wants to let you know he's very much around you.
**I'll be going to Boston to spend the holidays with his family.**
K: He shows me wings... I was trying to determine if they were eagle wings, harley wings...I think you'll know what that means.
S: I do.
K: I get that he will show you these wings too...in wild ways. He says I can use them to teach.
S: I know exactly what he's talking about.
**Jason LOVED to fly. He loved it so much...that I'll go to the airport to feel close to him. He always said that if he didn't work in the hotel industry, he wanted to fly.**
K: He loves you very much. February... is his birthday in Feb...or your birthday.
S: No.
K: It seems like he's trying to say February is a significant month.
S: It is.
K: Ok, as long as you know what he means.
S: Yeah
**February has two significant things. First...February 2008...it's when we broke up for a while. Then, in February 2009...it's when we got back together...and really felt that deeper level connection.**
K: He loves the fact that you're going to start journaling?
S: I already have.
K: great. He's thrilled...that you're doing it. He's over there doing jumping jacks.
**This blog...hello!!!**
K: OH my...are you considering doing some sort of foundation in his honor...? He's so thrilled about this... Oh my G-d. Ok, now I need a tissue... Is that the event?
S: No. Oh my G-d...
K: He just made all these emotions come forward. He says you're going to create awareness and touch so many people's lives...but you're going to draw a whole new group of people into your life because of this...and he knows that's not why you're doing it...he says that the experiences that you're going to have are unbelievable. (cries) Travel, too...this is going to lead to travel for you. And I get hooking up with celebrities...
S: I do that already.
K: Oh, ok... well you're going to get them on the bandwagon...
S: we've already done that
K: he's so thrilled, he's like wow, one person can make such a difference in the universe. That's really something.
**Ok, this is something that I've only told a few select people. I've been thinking about creating a foundation in his name to raise awareness of HIV/AIDS related cancers. I've even gone as far as having a logo created. When she said this...I broke down....I know that is something she never would've known. Leigh Ann (who was there with me for this) didn't even know about it. Kathleen even cried after this breakthrough.**
K: Are you getting ready to buy a house?
S: No.
K: He shows me a title...and I get really good feelings about this.
S: Good, because it needs to happen.
K: Oh ok. I really think he's trying to say that he's going to help it happen.
**I've posted about this...we're selling his house.**
K: I'm going to be a little theatrical because he is. He's saying that you have stood...since he passed...maybe it's something you had done...but you've got your arms raised and you're spinning around like this...
S: That means something entirely different, but I know exactly what he's talking about.
K: He is so funny... I love this guy.
S: That's really funny.
**This is really funny. I wish I had video to show this. Jason grew up with a boy that used to play like he was Wonder Woman. He loved to tell the story about how this kid would just spin and spin...and he loved to re-enact it. We talked about it and laughed about it all the time. Kathleen got up and literally started spinning with her arms out, just like Jason did...and it was HILARIOUS!**
K: Was he at Baylor?
S: Yeah
K: He said they treated him very well.
S: They did.
K: What I heard, he's telling me say exactly what I said: They treated me very well at Baylor...and he said it just like that.
S: Yeah.
So, that's the highlights. There was some other stuff that didn't make sense yet, but I have a feeling it's all going to work itself out. I feel so incredible tonight having gone through this. It really was amazing. There are just not enough words to express what I'm feeling right now. I knew I felt Jason around me a lot, and this just proves to me that my feelings, my intuitions are correct. He really is still around me, seeing everything that's going on. That is incredible.
Until next time --
Stuart
K: Tell me the me the relationship of this person that you're wanting to connect with to you... is it a blood relative?
S: No, he was my partner.
K: Ok. This was a recent passing. I get real recent.
S: Uh huh.
K: Right, ok. He's really powerful. My next question was do you have anything of his that I can hold, but I don't think I'm going to need it to be honest with you. You carry something with you, though, on your person. Do you have like a messenger bag or some just your wallet?
S: Yeah
K: Ok, is there something in your wallet?
S: Yes, there is something there.
K: Ok, because he's really thrilled about this...Let me tell you what he's telling me, because then you'll understand it. Alright, I've got to slow down...he's really talking fast. J, first of all, too...he's showing me a big J. Is that his first initial or something?
S: Yeah.
K: He's doing that because he said he really needs to know it's really me.
S: Yeah, I do.
K: He says the thing that you're carrying in your wallet, it's about him...he's either had it a long time...he keeps showing me elongated...
S: It's a very old picture
K: Oh ok good...
S: He was 3 I think in that picture
**When I was in Boston in August, Jason's mom gave me a small photo of Jason peeing in the backyard. It's something silly, but it meant a lot to me. I've kept it in my wallet since then.**
K: And first of all, I'm really really sorry. I can feel the grief from him too.
S: Thank you.
K: Just know that's going both ways. Three years...did something significant happen between the two of you?
S: No, we didn't know each other three years ago.
K: Did you guys know a mutual friend three years ago?
S: No.
K: and you weren't together for three years?
S: No.
K: I'm trying to get him to tell us more about three years ago. Ok. He says three years ago...there was something that was significant for you and your life, and significant in his life that you probably talked about later once you got together...but....he says if that event hadn't happened for you and this one hadn't happened for him...the two of you probably wouldn't have connected. And I think it's a move, but I don't know which one.
S: That's for me
**I moved back to Dallas three years ago.**
K: He says see how the universe slammed us...because he's going like this...slammed us together. But it's like when you meet...it's like, oh my gosh...where have you been all my life. It's like immediate. He says again, it's that soul connection. It's giving me goosebumps. You guys have done this before...in previous lifes... Do you collect frogs?
S: No
K: He's talking about someone collecting frogs, and he wants them to know that he's going to continue to add to their collection or put frogs in their path. So it might be for somebody...a family member perhaps.
S: Ok
K: Just pass on the message.
**I learned later that one of Jason's dear friends (Rob) collects Frogs. I gave him the message.**
K: You don't live here...you're not from here?
S: No, I am...from Plano, but he's not.
K: Ok. Let me say what he said then...because I don't understand. He said that you're going to go home for the holidays.
S: I'm going to his home.
K: Oh...and it's not here?
S: No.
K: That's so cool that he knows that. You guys have so much emotion...I'm trying to fight back tears. I want you to know the emotion that he's trying to put out there. He understands that you're...you love him so much, but he understands that it's ok to get very angry about the fact that he's gone. He understands that you're going to have bouts of anger... he wants to let you know he's very much around you.
**I'll be going to Boston to spend the holidays with his family.**
K: He shows me wings... I was trying to determine if they were eagle wings, harley wings...I think you'll know what that means.
S: I do.
K: I get that he will show you these wings too...in wild ways. He says I can use them to teach.
S: I know exactly what he's talking about.
**Jason LOVED to fly. He loved it so much...that I'll go to the airport to feel close to him. He always said that if he didn't work in the hotel industry, he wanted to fly.**
K: He loves you very much. February... is his birthday in Feb...or your birthday.
S: No.
K: It seems like he's trying to say February is a significant month.
S: It is.
K: Ok, as long as you know what he means.
S: Yeah
**February has two significant things. First...February 2008...it's when we broke up for a while. Then, in February 2009...it's when we got back together...and really felt that deeper level connection.**
K: He loves the fact that you're going to start journaling?
S: I already have.
K: great. He's thrilled...that you're doing it. He's over there doing jumping jacks.
**This blog...hello!!!**
K: OH my...are you considering doing some sort of foundation in his honor...? He's so thrilled about this... Oh my G-d. Ok, now I need a tissue... Is that the event?
S: No. Oh my G-d...
K: He just made all these emotions come forward. He says you're going to create awareness and touch so many people's lives...but you're going to draw a whole new group of people into your life because of this...and he knows that's not why you're doing it...he says that the experiences that you're going to have are unbelievable. (cries) Travel, too...this is going to lead to travel for you. And I get hooking up with celebrities...
S: I do that already.
K: Oh, ok... well you're going to get them on the bandwagon...
S: we've already done that
K: he's so thrilled, he's like wow, one person can make such a difference in the universe. That's really something.
**Ok, this is something that I've only told a few select people. I've been thinking about creating a foundation in his name to raise awareness of HIV/AIDS related cancers. I've even gone as far as having a logo created. When she said this...I broke down....I know that is something she never would've known. Leigh Ann (who was there with me for this) didn't even know about it. Kathleen even cried after this breakthrough.**
K: Are you getting ready to buy a house?
S: No.
K: He shows me a title...and I get really good feelings about this.
S: Good, because it needs to happen.
K: Oh ok. I really think he's trying to say that he's going to help it happen.
**I've posted about this...we're selling his house.**
K: I'm going to be a little theatrical because he is. He's saying that you have stood...since he passed...maybe it's something you had done...but you've got your arms raised and you're spinning around like this...
S: That means something entirely different, but I know exactly what he's talking about.
K: He is so funny... I love this guy.
S: That's really funny.
**This is really funny. I wish I had video to show this. Jason grew up with a boy that used to play like he was Wonder Woman. He loved to tell the story about how this kid would just spin and spin...and he loved to re-enact it. We talked about it and laughed about it all the time. Kathleen got up and literally started spinning with her arms out, just like Jason did...and it was HILARIOUS!**
K: Was he at Baylor?
S: Yeah
K: He said they treated him very well.
S: They did.
K: What I heard, he's telling me say exactly what I said: They treated me very well at Baylor...and he said it just like that.
S: Yeah.
So, that's the highlights. There was some other stuff that didn't make sense yet, but I have a feeling it's all going to work itself out. I feel so incredible tonight having gone through this. It really was amazing. There are just not enough words to express what I'm feeling right now. I knew I felt Jason around me a lot, and this just proves to me that my feelings, my intuitions are correct. He really is still around me, seeing everything that's going on. That is incredible.
Until next time --
Stuart
When You Least Expect It
Grief comes at you when you least expect it. I'm a little more than six months out from Jason's death. There are plenty of days when I go without crying, or even feeling sad. I stopped feeling guilty about all of that several months ago. But, just when you think you've got it licked, you let your guard down...and then....BAM! Grief smacks you back into reality.
I got a big smack tonight from grief...and it hurt something fierce. I was sitting here watching Brothers and Sisters on ABC. One of the characters has been battling lymphoma for a while (yeah, of all the cancers a TV character can get...it had to be that one). Tonight, she learned that her treatments weren't working and that the cancer spread. But, it wasn't that news that set me off. Sure, it made me sad, and immediately took me back to March 20th when Jason and I learned that the cancer had exploded all over his body. But, the smack really came later in the show.
Another character was getting married tonight. It was the end of the show, everyone was in place, and the guy doing the ceremony got started. He said that Kitty (the character with lymphoma) was going to read a poem by E. E. Cummings. I froze. I immediately looked up and started screaming "DON'T YOU DARE!" I knew what was about to happen. Two words in, I completely had a break down. It was the very poem that I read at the LLS memorial service back in September (read the speech & poem here). I began crying hysterically, went into convulsions, and then just completely froze. I'm sure my neighbors thought I was dying down here the way I was carrying on. I completely lost control of myself and my emotions. Something else in me just took over.
I cried for 15 minutes straight, and then calmed down. I was still shaking, though, for some time afterwards. I was in shock over what had just taken place. I couldn't believe myself, the way I reacted to that. I suppose I just needed that cry, and that was the only way it was going to happen. Once again, grief proved to me that it's still here and it's not going away any time soon. I suppose I need these subtle (or not so subtle) reminders every now and then.
Seriously...why did SHE have to read THAT poem? There's no explanation.
Until next time --
Stuart
I got a big smack tonight from grief...and it hurt something fierce. I was sitting here watching Brothers and Sisters on ABC. One of the characters has been battling lymphoma for a while (yeah, of all the cancers a TV character can get...it had to be that one). Tonight, she learned that her treatments weren't working and that the cancer spread. But, it wasn't that news that set me off. Sure, it made me sad, and immediately took me back to March 20th when Jason and I learned that the cancer had exploded all over his body. But, the smack really came later in the show.
Another character was getting married tonight. It was the end of the show, everyone was in place, and the guy doing the ceremony got started. He said that Kitty (the character with lymphoma) was going to read a poem by E. E. Cummings. I froze. I immediately looked up and started screaming "DON'T YOU DARE!" I knew what was about to happen. Two words in, I completely had a break down. It was the very poem that I read at the LLS memorial service back in September (read the speech & poem here). I began crying hysterically, went into convulsions, and then just completely froze. I'm sure my neighbors thought I was dying down here the way I was carrying on. I completely lost control of myself and my emotions. Something else in me just took over.
I cried for 15 minutes straight, and then calmed down. I was still shaking, though, for some time afterwards. I was in shock over what had just taken place. I couldn't believe myself, the way I reacted to that. I suppose I just needed that cry, and that was the only way it was going to happen. Once again, grief proved to me that it's still here and it's not going away any time soon. I suppose I need these subtle (or not so subtle) reminders every now and then.
Seriously...why did SHE have to read THAT poem? There's no explanation.
Until next time --
Stuart
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Taking Inventory
I'm sitting here on the couch where Jason and I used to lay together. I'm looking around at the house we were going to share. It's hard to let go. It's hard to see all of this disappear. But, I'm ready to do it. I'm ready to let go. It's time.
Jerrod and I spent the morning taking inventory of everything that's still in the house...which is a lot. There's a lot of stuff that's got to be moved out of here over the next few weeks. But, we'll get it done. We have to.
I did ok with everything as we moved our way from room to room cataloging everything inside. I was ok until we came across a pair of shorts and a shirt that were mysteriously placed in the guest room closet. They were the last shorts and shirt that Jason wore before he died. When Jerrod pulled those out and turned around with them in his hand, I almost lost it. It literally took my breath away. It was almost as if I had seen his ghost or something. Wasn't expecting that.
So, now all that's left is to go through the garage and catalog all of that, and then the task of packing will begin. I'm just ready to have this all over and done with. It's the final piece of the puzzle, and the final part of letting go of Jason and his things. I know I can get through this. I've gotten through everything else. This, too, shall pass.
Until next time --
Stuart
Jerrod and I spent the morning taking inventory of everything that's still in the house...which is a lot. There's a lot of stuff that's got to be moved out of here over the next few weeks. But, we'll get it done. We have to.
I did ok with everything as we moved our way from room to room cataloging everything inside. I was ok until we came across a pair of shorts and a shirt that were mysteriously placed in the guest room closet. They were the last shorts and shirt that Jason wore before he died. When Jerrod pulled those out and turned around with them in his hand, I almost lost it. It literally took my breath away. It was almost as if I had seen his ghost or something. Wasn't expecting that.
So, now all that's left is to go through the garage and catalog all of that, and then the task of packing will begin. I'm just ready to have this all over and done with. It's the final piece of the puzzle, and the final part of letting go of Jason and his things. I know I can get through this. I've gotten through everything else. This, too, shall pass.
Until next time --
Stuart
Friday, December 4, 2009
Worldwide Love
I knew Jason was loved, but tonight I got to see just how far reaching that love goes. Jason worked for Omni Hotels and its global partner, The Global Hotel Alliance. He split his job between the two organizations working under two separate bosses. Both of them were wonderful to Jason throughout his treatment - even when HR tried to make things difficult. Jason loved the companies he worked for, and he was very proud of the work he did.
When Jason died, we received well-wishes and condolence notes from all over the world. The evening after he died, I spent hours on the computer reading email after email from his colleagues all sharing their favorite stories about Jason. It was so wonderful to hear all the great things about him from some many people all over the place. It made me realize how far reaching Jason's impact was felt.
Tonight, I had that realization again when those colleagues of his from all over the world - China, Australia, India, Germany, Switzerland, England - came together tonight in Fort Worth to raise money for Team Jason 2010. They invited myself along with Jason's two best friends to come join the festivities. They decided that since they were all staying in Fort Worth, they were going to spend the evening calf roping! Jason would've laughed so hard seeing these people trying to toss that rope around. It was hilarious to see, and so heart-warming to know that they were all making fools of themselves in his wonderful memory.
When all is said and done, I think we're going to have a little more than $5,000 to kick start Team Jason for 2010! That is FANTASTIC! I cried the entire way home tonight...because I just wish Jason was here to see all the wonderful things people are doing in his name. I wish he was here...physically...to hear all the amazing things they have to say about him. All too often, we wait until someone dies to say all the beautiful things we feel about them. We need to all be better about telling those around us what they mean to us...before it's too late.
I am blown away at these people's generosity towards us and Team Jason. I am truly touched, and even though I don't know any of these people...they all knew Jason, and tonight I could feel the love they brought from all over the world. Truly amazing.
Here's a pic of the whole group after their calf-roping extravaganza:
Until next time--
Stuart
When Jason died, we received well-wishes and condolence notes from all over the world. The evening after he died, I spent hours on the computer reading email after email from his colleagues all sharing their favorite stories about Jason. It was so wonderful to hear all the great things about him from some many people all over the place. It made me realize how far reaching Jason's impact was felt.
Tonight, I had that realization again when those colleagues of his from all over the world - China, Australia, India, Germany, Switzerland, England - came together tonight in Fort Worth to raise money for Team Jason 2010. They invited myself along with Jason's two best friends to come join the festivities. They decided that since they were all staying in Fort Worth, they were going to spend the evening calf roping! Jason would've laughed so hard seeing these people trying to toss that rope around. It was hilarious to see, and so heart-warming to know that they were all making fools of themselves in his wonderful memory.
When all is said and done, I think we're going to have a little more than $5,000 to kick start Team Jason for 2010! That is FANTASTIC! I cried the entire way home tonight...because I just wish Jason was here to see all the wonderful things people are doing in his name. I wish he was here...physically...to hear all the amazing things they have to say about him. All too often, we wait until someone dies to say all the beautiful things we feel about them. We need to all be better about telling those around us what they mean to us...before it's too late.
I am blown away at these people's generosity towards us and Team Jason. I am truly touched, and even though I don't know any of these people...they all knew Jason, and tonight I could feel the love they brought from all over the world. Truly amazing.
Here's a pic of the whole group after their calf-roping extravaganza:
Until next time--
Stuart
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Preparing To Say Goodbye...Again.
I've learned that grief is riddled with a lot of goodbyes. In my case, there was the initial goodbye when Jason died right before my eyes. There was the goodbye when they took his body from the house we were to share together. There was the goodbye when I drove away and left his ashes at the gravesite, and then another when I left Boston entirely. There was a goodbye when his parents, friends, and I cleaned out his personal effects at his house. There was the goodbye when I realized I had lost all of his text messages...so many "I love you"s gone.
And now, the house that we cleaned out in July...is finally getting sold. So now, in just a few more weeks, I will be saying goodbye to that and everything inside it. That house holds so much meaning. It was the house he bought while he was going through his treatment. We moved him in during his stem cell transplant. I put up the first - and only - Christmas tree in that house because Jason was too weak to do it himself. We painted the bathroom, living room, and dining room together just six weeks before he was gone.
When he died in that house - in the very living/dining room that we painted together - he had only lived there for 7 months. We had created a lot of memories in his old place, but in just seven months time we had created so many amazing memories in this house. There was so many bad things that happened there, but there were many many more good things that happened there, too. It's going to be hard to let go of that place. It's going to be hard to leave that key behind and say goodbye...yet again.
Somehow, I know I'll find the strength to get through moving everything out. That kind of strength comes out of nowhere - like the strength it took to stand by helplessly and watch Jason die. I don't know where it comes from, but I know it'll be there when I need it.
Until next time --
Stuart
And now, the house that we cleaned out in July...is finally getting sold. So now, in just a few more weeks, I will be saying goodbye to that and everything inside it. That house holds so much meaning. It was the house he bought while he was going through his treatment. We moved him in during his stem cell transplant. I put up the first - and only - Christmas tree in that house because Jason was too weak to do it himself. We painted the bathroom, living room, and dining room together just six weeks before he was gone.
When he died in that house - in the very living/dining room that we painted together - he had only lived there for 7 months. We had created a lot of memories in his old place, but in just seven months time we had created so many amazing memories in this house. There was so many bad things that happened there, but there were many many more good things that happened there, too. It's going to be hard to let go of that place. It's going to be hard to leave that key behind and say goodbye...yet again.
Somehow, I know I'll find the strength to get through moving everything out. That kind of strength comes out of nowhere - like the strength it took to stand by helplessly and watch Jason die. I don't know where it comes from, but I know it'll be there when I need it.
Until next time --
Stuart
I Am Not Alone
I've learned something recently. I'm not alone. I'm not the only young person who has lost a spouse recently. I'm not the only person who is dealing with this unimaginable grief. There are others out there, just like me, who get the pain. There are others who understand the spontaneous crying fits, and the sudden day-dreams of our loves who are now lost. I am not alone.
Tonight was a first for two reasons. I mentioned in an earlier post about a new friend - a recent widow - who I met. She and I hadn't actually met in person, but we'd already forged a pretty amazing bond over the loss of our spouses. It's amazing how much of a bond two people can share over emails and text messages without ever meeting.
It was early in October when I looked at my email box and saw something had come in on a message board for this Young Widow's Meet-Up group I joined. I joined the group a couple months before but had never been to a meeting or anything. Something about this email, though, made me stop in my tracks. You could literally feel the pain in her words. She simply said that her husband had died just three weeks before the date of this email and she was wondering if it was too early to attend a meeting. I couldn't answer that question, but something told me I needed to reach out to this woman. So I did. I sent her an email introducing myself and explaining my loss. I told her I'd be there for her if she needed to talk.
Over the next few weeks, we emailed back and forth asking each other questions, picking each other's brains and emotions. A couple weeks ago, we exchanged phone numbers, but - in this age of technology - it's funny how when you get a number, the first mode of communication isn't vocal...it's still written..in text messages. But it didn't matter. I learned more about her - and vice versa - through those messages. We were there for each other when we hurt, when we laughed, and when we needed to cry. For the first time since Jason died, I finally had found someone who felt the exact same pain that I had been feelings for nearly six months. What a relief.
Last week, after finally breaking the ice over the phone, we decided that we'd meet face-to-face at this Young Widow Meet-up in Frisco. That happened tonight, and I tell you...I'm SO glad we went to this thing. First and foremost, I'm so glad that I was able to meet this wonderful woman in person and get a hug from her. It's funny, when she walked in the door, it was like I was seeing a friend I hadn't seen in a few years. I gave her a big hug, and I immediately felt better. It takes a special person to do that.
The meeting was nice. It was awkward at times, but I think that tends to happen when you merge 5 strangers together. We each shared our stories which were all strangely similar. We laughed, cracked jokes, and even cried a bit. We commiserated with each other over things that I've never been able to talk about with anyone except my therapist (and more recently with my new friend). It felt really good to know that there are others out there like us. We are not alone. We are all sharing the exact same feelings. We are all grieving the same grief. At one point, I sat back in my chair and I began to smile. No one knew why, nor do I think anyone really noticed. But, I smiled - if only to myself - because I was thinking "FINALLY!" This is what I've been searching for.
Casey - I know you're going to be reading this at some point. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your amazing friendship, and on Thanksgiving day last week...I said a special prayer for you because I am so incredibly thankful that you sent that email back in October opening the door for me (and you) to realize that I am not alone. You are not alone. We are in this together.
Until next time --
Stuart
Saturday, November 28, 2009
November 28th
It's November 28th. A date that, for most people, holds no other significance. It didn't for me last year. But, this year, it does. November 28th marks the six month anniversary of the day that I lost the love of my life to cancer.
It was six months ago today that I was holding Jason's hand, caressing his face while trying to wipe the tears away from my own. It was six months ago today that I heard my love take his last breath and slip away from all our lives. It was six months ago today that my heart broke in such a way that it will never fully be repaired.
It makes me wonder, what has really changed in six months. A new friend - a fellow widow - asked me last night what six months felt like. It was a great question that I tried to answer honestly. But, I'm not sure a lot has changed in this time. I feel like I'm dealing with my grief a lot better than I was 3, 4, and 5 months ago. I feel like I have more good days than bad. I feel like I've learned to find some sort of minimal balance between bringing my grief out in the open and keeping it tucked away. I think more of a balance is needed, as there have been plenty of times (especially lately) where I've nearly broken down at work.
But, has my grief really changed in six months? When I think about what happened at 5:06am that morning, it hurts just as much as it did then. I replay that morning minute by minute in my head still and my body, my heart begin to hurt. I begin to sweat, cry, tremble...and I just want to fall down and curl up into the fetal position. It still hurts so much, and I'm beginning to wonder if that pain will ever go away. Sure, there are many days during the month when I don't feel this pain. It's only when I take the time to open my mind and remember. That's when the hurt comes flooding back, as if it's flowing right out of my soul.
So, in six months, I feel like I've learned a little, but still have a very long way to go before I feel completely in control of this monster called grief. I think the holidays are making things a little harder. Those firsts are always going to be tougher than the seconds and thirds. In the blog before this, I wrote about breaking down when I heard Feliz Navidad on the radio. That was a tough first...one I wasn't expecting. But now, because I've made it through that first one, I can laugh again. I hear that song (4 times today) and I laugh...just like I did before with Jason. That must be a good sign, right?
Jason, I love you so much...even more if it's possible. I miss you so incredibly much. I go to bed every night hoping that you'll come to me in my dreams. Tonight, will be no different. Good night my sweet love, and please come see me tonight.
Until next time -
Stuart
It was six months ago today that I was holding Jason's hand, caressing his face while trying to wipe the tears away from my own. It was six months ago today that I heard my love take his last breath and slip away from all our lives. It was six months ago today that my heart broke in such a way that it will never fully be repaired.
It makes me wonder, what has really changed in six months. A new friend - a fellow widow - asked me last night what six months felt like. It was a great question that I tried to answer honestly. But, I'm not sure a lot has changed in this time. I feel like I'm dealing with my grief a lot better than I was 3, 4, and 5 months ago. I feel like I have more good days than bad. I feel like I've learned to find some sort of minimal balance between bringing my grief out in the open and keeping it tucked away. I think more of a balance is needed, as there have been plenty of times (especially lately) where I've nearly broken down at work.
But, has my grief really changed in six months? When I think about what happened at 5:06am that morning, it hurts just as much as it did then. I replay that morning minute by minute in my head still and my body, my heart begin to hurt. I begin to sweat, cry, tremble...and I just want to fall down and curl up into the fetal position. It still hurts so much, and I'm beginning to wonder if that pain will ever go away. Sure, there are many days during the month when I don't feel this pain. It's only when I take the time to open my mind and remember. That's when the hurt comes flooding back, as if it's flowing right out of my soul.
So, in six months, I feel like I've learned a little, but still have a very long way to go before I feel completely in control of this monster called grief. I think the holidays are making things a little harder. Those firsts are always going to be tougher than the seconds and thirds. In the blog before this, I wrote about breaking down when I heard Feliz Navidad on the radio. That was a tough first...one I wasn't expecting. But now, because I've made it through that first one, I can laugh again. I hear that song (4 times today) and I laugh...just like I did before with Jason. That must be a good sign, right?
Jason, I love you so much...even more if it's possible. I miss you so incredibly much. I go to bed every night hoping that you'll come to me in my dreams. Tonight, will be no different. Good night my sweet love, and please come see me tonight.
Until next time -
Stuart
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
I'm Still Thankful
It has been an unbelievable year filled with many ups and some pretty major downs. When this year began, none of us ever thought that we'd be dealing with the things we've had to deal with. While this Thanksgiving holiday is going to be extremely tough, through the sadness, I can still find things for which I'm thankful.
I'm thankful for the wonderful two years that Jason and I spent together.
I'm thankful that I had the influence of such an amazing man in my life.
I'm thankful he had such an amazing team of doctors and nurses who cared for him - both in the medical sense and personal sense.
I'm thankful that his suffering is over, and that he's no longer in pain.
I'm thankful that I have a new guardian angel on my side (who helped me win my first Emmy…for which I'm also thankful).
I'm thankful that, every day, there is something that reminds me of him.
I'm thankful that, every day, he still finds ways to make me smile.
I'm thankful that there are still plenty of days when I still feel him around me.
I'm thankful to have such an unbelievably amazing family who stood by me through everything.
I'm thankful to have such an unbelievably awesome group of friends who supported me through the most difficult time in my life.
I'm thankful to the people at work who understood what was going on, and who worked to make sure that I had nothing to worry about here.
I'm thankful to everyone who gave money, time, and support to TEAM JASON - so much so that we raised $11,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.
But most of all, I'm thankful that Jason and I were able to find love in each other. No matter how short it was in the flesh, his love and the love I have for him will live on forever, and for that, I'm extremely thankful.
So, as we all celebrate this holiday, I just wanted to say THANK YOU again to all of you for everything you've done for Jason, for his family, and for me. I wish you all a very happy holiday season.
Thanks again, and I love you guys!
Happy Thanksgiving.
I'm thankful for the wonderful two years that Jason and I spent together.
I'm thankful that I had the influence of such an amazing man in my life.
I'm thankful he had such an amazing team of doctors and nurses who cared for him - both in the medical sense and personal sense.
I'm thankful that his suffering is over, and that he's no longer in pain.
I'm thankful that I have a new guardian angel on my side (who helped me win my first Emmy…for which I'm also thankful).
I'm thankful that, every day, there is something that reminds me of him.
I'm thankful that, every day, he still finds ways to make me smile.
I'm thankful that there are still plenty of days when I still feel him around me.
I'm thankful to have such an unbelievably amazing family who stood by me through everything.
I'm thankful to have such an unbelievably awesome group of friends who supported me through the most difficult time in my life.
I'm thankful to the people at work who understood what was going on, and who worked to make sure that I had nothing to worry about here.
I'm thankful to everyone who gave money, time, and support to TEAM JASON - so much so that we raised $11,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.
But most of all, I'm thankful that Jason and I were able to find love in each other. No matter how short it was in the flesh, his love and the love I have for him will live on forever, and for that, I'm extremely thankful.
So, as we all celebrate this holiday, I just wanted to say THANK YOU again to all of you for everything you've done for Jason, for his family, and for me. I wish you all a very happy holiday season.
Thanks again, and I love you guys!
Happy Thanksgiving.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Feliz Navidad, My Love
Jason loved the holidays. He loved to put up his Christmas tree, and spend hours decorating it. He loved to cook for the holidays. Everything about the holidays made him happy. Though, like me, he agreed that things got started a bit too early. He was very particular that holiday things didn't happen until Thanksgiving.
One thing we couldn't control, though, was the music this local radio station played. Every year, they completely throw out their format and switch to holiday music 24/7. They, like the commercials and retail stores, always put out their Christmas stuff waaaaay too early. But, I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a thrill from hearing that first bout of holiday music.
One of the songs that we liked to hear initially was Jose Feliciano's "Feliz Navidad". Hearing it that first time actually made me smile. Jason, too, I think. It wasn't until the 20th or 30th time that we heard it - which was usually just a week or two into their new format - that we started getting annoyed. It became like a game for us. We'd text each other every time we heard it, and then we began keeping a running tally of how many times it was played. It was our thing, and it made me smile every time I heard the song (before promptly changing the channel).
Tonight, I had just gotten in the car and started on my way home when I flipped on my afternoon drive radio station. It's the very station that takes the format dump. Usually they promote the hell out of it beforehand, but this year, there was no fanfare. Suddenly, I realized that I was listening to Christmas music, but it didn't phase me. I hummed and sang along as I got on the highway and into traffic. And then it hit. "Feliz Navidad" came on. I immediately started laughing and clapping, and then I did something I hadn't done in a very long time. I reached for my phone with the intent to text message Jason. But, before my fingers hit my phone to pick it up, my brain clicked and I realized what I was doing. I had a complete break down right there in my car while sitting on Interstate 820.
Hearing that song was like a hard, cold slap in the face. I can't believe I actually reached for my phone to text him. I don't know where my head was at that moment, and I honestly felt stupid. That was the first time in a long long time that I even ever thought about doing something like that. I know I shouldn't punish myself, or get mad when I do things like that. I'm sure that's going to happen, and I just need to let it.
Anyway, I'm doing better now. I'm over it. I won't be able to listen to that song, though...at all this entire season. If I hear it teased, I will change the channel. If I hear it come on without warning, I will change the channel faster than you can say Jesus. I can't do it. This season is going to be hard enough without adding to it.
Until next time --
Stuart
One thing we couldn't control, though, was the music this local radio station played. Every year, they completely throw out their format and switch to holiday music 24/7. They, like the commercials and retail stores, always put out their Christmas stuff waaaaay too early. But, I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a thrill from hearing that first bout of holiday music.
One of the songs that we liked to hear initially was Jose Feliciano's "Feliz Navidad". Hearing it that first time actually made me smile. Jason, too, I think. It wasn't until the 20th or 30th time that we heard it - which was usually just a week or two into their new format - that we started getting annoyed. It became like a game for us. We'd text each other every time we heard it, and then we began keeping a running tally of how many times it was played. It was our thing, and it made me smile every time I heard the song (before promptly changing the channel).
Tonight, I had just gotten in the car and started on my way home when I flipped on my afternoon drive radio station. It's the very station that takes the format dump. Usually they promote the hell out of it beforehand, but this year, there was no fanfare. Suddenly, I realized that I was listening to Christmas music, but it didn't phase me. I hummed and sang along as I got on the highway and into traffic. And then it hit. "Feliz Navidad" came on. I immediately started laughing and clapping, and then I did something I hadn't done in a very long time. I reached for my phone with the intent to text message Jason. But, before my fingers hit my phone to pick it up, my brain clicked and I realized what I was doing. I had a complete break down right there in my car while sitting on Interstate 820.
Hearing that song was like a hard, cold slap in the face. I can't believe I actually reached for my phone to text him. I don't know where my head was at that moment, and I honestly felt stupid. That was the first time in a long long time that I even ever thought about doing something like that. I know I shouldn't punish myself, or get mad when I do things like that. I'm sure that's going to happen, and I just need to let it.
Anyway, I'm doing better now. I'm over it. I won't be able to listen to that song, though...at all this entire season. If I hear it teased, I will change the channel. If I hear it come on without warning, I will change the channel faster than you can say Jesus. I can't do it. This season is going to be hard enough without adding to it.
Until next time --
Stuart
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Hello Medium. I'm Stuart.
I've been giving this subject a lot of thought, and I've finally made a decision and a step forward. I've decided that I'm going to go see a psychic/medium in hopes that I'll hear from Jason just one last time. I'm still skeptical of this whole thing, but more than that, I'm extremely hopeful that I will hear from him. The skeptical side of me just thinks I'll hear from him long enough for him to tell me that I wasted my money. LOL
One of my best friends went to this woman in Frisco and had an amazing experience. Shortly after Jason died, she let me listen to the tape she recorded at her session, and I have to say it was pretty amazing. Whatever I believed before listening to the tape completely went out the window after listening to it. There were things she said in that session that only Leigh Ann or someone in her family would know. She talked about LA looking at photos of her grandfather...which she was doing just a few nights before her reading. It literally sent chills up my spine.
That is the kind of reading I'm hoping for. I want to know that Jason is still here with me. I want to know that he's seeing what's going on down here. I want to know that he saw that I won the Emmy (and I also want to know if he had anything to do with it). I want to know if he saw that we raised nearly $11,000 in his memory. But most of all, I need to know that he still loves me. I need to hear it...just one last time.
I feel like I've done a fairly good job of moving on up to this point. But lately, I just can't shake the feeling that I want to reach out and hear from him again. If it's possible, why wouldn't I want to do it? I'm sure my therapist would jump all over me and condemn my decision to do this...saying something to the effect of "I need to let go" and "I need to realize that Jason's dead and he's not coming back". Of course I know he's dead and not coming back. I'm not going into this expecting to actually SEE him. But, I am going into this hoping to at the very least feel his presence...and hear from him (through her, obviously). I guess that's how this all started. I used to phsycially FEEL his presence around me. I don't feel it anymore. That's what bothers me. That's why I want to know that he's still here.
So, December 7th at 6pm...I will be arriving for my reading. One hour later, I hope to emerge from there with a new-found respect for this gift, and with a new sense of knowing that Jason is still in my life and will always be there. Here's hoping for the best.
Until next time --
Stuart
One of my best friends went to this woman in Frisco and had an amazing experience. Shortly after Jason died, she let me listen to the tape she recorded at her session, and I have to say it was pretty amazing. Whatever I believed before listening to the tape completely went out the window after listening to it. There were things she said in that session that only Leigh Ann or someone in her family would know. She talked about LA looking at photos of her grandfather...which she was doing just a few nights before her reading. It literally sent chills up my spine.
That is the kind of reading I'm hoping for. I want to know that Jason is still here with me. I want to know that he's seeing what's going on down here. I want to know that he saw that I won the Emmy (and I also want to know if he had anything to do with it). I want to know if he saw that we raised nearly $11,000 in his memory. But most of all, I need to know that he still loves me. I need to hear it...just one last time.
I feel like I've done a fairly good job of moving on up to this point. But lately, I just can't shake the feeling that I want to reach out and hear from him again. If it's possible, why wouldn't I want to do it? I'm sure my therapist would jump all over me and condemn my decision to do this...saying something to the effect of "I need to let go" and "I need to realize that Jason's dead and he's not coming back". Of course I know he's dead and not coming back. I'm not going into this expecting to actually SEE him. But, I am going into this hoping to at the very least feel his presence...and hear from him (through her, obviously). I guess that's how this all started. I used to phsycially FEEL his presence around me. I don't feel it anymore. That's what bothers me. That's why I want to know that he's still here.
So, December 7th at 6pm...I will be arriving for my reading. One hour later, I hope to emerge from there with a new-found respect for this gift, and with a new sense of knowing that Jason is still in my life and will always be there. Here's hoping for the best.
Until next time --
Stuart
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Taking A Cue From A Soldier
This week, there was a great tragedy in the U.S. An Army Major opened fire inside Fort Hood in Killeen, Texas killing 13 people and wounding nearly 40 others. It's one of those stories that grips the nation, and I had the honor of being part of our stations live team coverage. Friday, I was sent down to Fort Hood to field produce.
It was surreal being there on the post. I met soldiers who were inside the room when the Major burst in and opened fire. I met soldiers who pulled bodies out of there while the massacre continued. I met soldiers who were the first on the scene, who held the Major's body. 24 hours before I was standing in front of them, they were faced with an unimaginable horror.
We had one thing in common, though. We both have seen death up close and personal. Granted though - the death I saw was certainly not violent. But, what I found interesting was how they were handling it. They are soldiers first and foremost. Sure, they were shaken, tired, and weary, but that didn't stop them from being brave men and women...telling their stories over and over to countless media. They didn't let what happen stop them from getting up the next morning, putting on that uniform, and reporting for duty. To them, life must go on. They must continue in the face of this great tragedy so that those lives lost would not be lost in vain.
When I took a step back from my work and looked at what I was seeing in front of me, I have to wonder if I was sent down there for a reason. Did I need to see how they managed to pick themselves up so quickly and move on? It was extremely uplifting and moving to see how they were handling all of this down there. The Army wives, the soldiers themselves...hell, even the media! It truly was an inspiration, and it really got me thinking about my life as it is now...and what I need to do to really get myself back on track after the massive derailment nearly six months ago.
To the soldiers and their families in Fort Hood, my thoughts and prayers are with you all... however, I have a feeling if any of you knew I was saying that, you'd tell me to turn those thoughts and prayers around on myself and turn it into something good in my life. Funny, that's exactly what Jason told me to do time and time again before he died. Maybe he was right. Don't tell him I said that. Even from the grave, I can feel him gloating. LOL ;)
Until next time --
Stuart
It was surreal being there on the post. I met soldiers who were inside the room when the Major burst in and opened fire. I met soldiers who pulled bodies out of there while the massacre continued. I met soldiers who were the first on the scene, who held the Major's body. 24 hours before I was standing in front of them, they were faced with an unimaginable horror.
We had one thing in common, though. We both have seen death up close and personal. Granted though - the death I saw was certainly not violent. But, what I found interesting was how they were handling it. They are soldiers first and foremost. Sure, they were shaken, tired, and weary, but that didn't stop them from being brave men and women...telling their stories over and over to countless media. They didn't let what happen stop them from getting up the next morning, putting on that uniform, and reporting for duty. To them, life must go on. They must continue in the face of this great tragedy so that those lives lost would not be lost in vain.
When I took a step back from my work and looked at what I was seeing in front of me, I have to wonder if I was sent down there for a reason. Did I need to see how they managed to pick themselves up so quickly and move on? It was extremely uplifting and moving to see how they were handling all of this down there. The Army wives, the soldiers themselves...hell, even the media! It truly was an inspiration, and it really got me thinking about my life as it is now...and what I need to do to really get myself back on track after the massive derailment nearly six months ago.
To the soldiers and their families in Fort Hood, my thoughts and prayers are with you all... however, I have a feeling if any of you knew I was saying that, you'd tell me to turn those thoughts and prayers around on myself and turn it into something good in my life. Funny, that's exactly what Jason told me to do time and time again before he died. Maybe he was right. Don't tell him I said that. Even from the grave, I can feel him gloating. LOL ;)
Until next time --
Stuart
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
A Flash Forward
Have you seen the show Flash Forward on ABC? If not, the basic premise is that at some point, the entire world blacked out for 2 minutes and 17 seconds...and everyone saw something happening 6 months into the future. It's an interesting show. Check it out if you have time in your TV viewing schedule.
I bring it up only because - as weird as it sounds - I kinda feel like I had a flash forward tonight. I know that sounds crazy, but it really was the weirdest feeling. It was a day dream, that's for sure. It happened tonight while I was driving home from my best friend Amy's house. Yes, I was driving...I know probably not a safe situation to be day dreaming. It's happened to me a lot since Jason died. In the beginning, I'd day dream and replay the moments of his death, or I'd go even farther back and replay moments from my birthday weekend.
Anyway, I digress. I didn't really have anything in my mind at the time, and then boom...all of a sudden I saw myself walking up to Jason's grave, but I wasn't alone. I was holding hands with another man...holding his hand extremely tight, actually. I began to feel very nervous...almost like I was bringing someone home to meet my parents. I never saw the other man's face. But, it was quite clear, I was bringing a new lover to meet Jason. In the next instant, I was at Jason's parents house introducing this mysterious man to Jason's mom Jane. She shook his hand and then gave me a big hug. And at that moment, I snapped back into reality and finished my drive home.
I was immediately baffled by my "vision" or whatever you want to call it. Did I just have my own version of a flash forward? I couldn't tell when this was taking place, but it was warmer. So, it wasn't fall or winter. But this whole thing got me thinking about the future and how the next man in my life is going to have a lot to live up to. Not only will he have to overcome meeting my friends and family (which is big enough in its own right), he's now going to have to overcome the fact that Jason will ALWAYS be a part of my life. I will want him to come with me to Boston to see Jason's grave. I will want him to meet Jason's parents. I will want him to know about them and understand our past. I did know this - during my day dream, I did feel like I was in love again...I had strong feelings for this person. I must have if I brought him to Boston.
I wonder if this was all just a sign that I need to start getting back out there again. I wonder if it was Jason's way of nudging me, telling me it's time to start dating again. Jason was very pushy at the end, saying that he wanted me to move on quickly. He was very concerned that I would go years without opening myself back up. But, so soon? I just don't know if I'm really ready to do that! It's been five months. Today. Five months ago today. Wow. FIVE MONTHS! I almost didn't realize it was the 28th. That's just insane. It feels so long ago, yet at times, it feels like it was yesterday.
I don't know what to do. And chances are, this is going to be bothering me for some time. Once again, I find myself alone in having to deal with this. No one around me has had to go through this (luckily), so I have no one to go to for guidance. Once again, I wish there was a manual on how to do this. I'm open to your advice...
Until next time --
Stuart
I bring it up only because - as weird as it sounds - I kinda feel like I had a flash forward tonight. I know that sounds crazy, but it really was the weirdest feeling. It was a day dream, that's for sure. It happened tonight while I was driving home from my best friend Amy's house. Yes, I was driving...I know probably not a safe situation to be day dreaming. It's happened to me a lot since Jason died. In the beginning, I'd day dream and replay the moments of his death, or I'd go even farther back and replay moments from my birthday weekend.
Anyway, I digress. I didn't really have anything in my mind at the time, and then boom...all of a sudden I saw myself walking up to Jason's grave, but I wasn't alone. I was holding hands with another man...holding his hand extremely tight, actually. I began to feel very nervous...almost like I was bringing someone home to meet my parents. I never saw the other man's face. But, it was quite clear, I was bringing a new lover to meet Jason. In the next instant, I was at Jason's parents house introducing this mysterious man to Jason's mom Jane. She shook his hand and then gave me a big hug. And at that moment, I snapped back into reality and finished my drive home.
I was immediately baffled by my "vision" or whatever you want to call it. Did I just have my own version of a flash forward? I couldn't tell when this was taking place, but it was warmer. So, it wasn't fall or winter. But this whole thing got me thinking about the future and how the next man in my life is going to have a lot to live up to. Not only will he have to overcome meeting my friends and family (which is big enough in its own right), he's now going to have to overcome the fact that Jason will ALWAYS be a part of my life. I will want him to come with me to Boston to see Jason's grave. I will want him to meet Jason's parents. I will want him to know about them and understand our past. I did know this - during my day dream, I did feel like I was in love again...I had strong feelings for this person. I must have if I brought him to Boston.
I wonder if this was all just a sign that I need to start getting back out there again. I wonder if it was Jason's way of nudging me, telling me it's time to start dating again. Jason was very pushy at the end, saying that he wanted me to move on quickly. He was very concerned that I would go years without opening myself back up. But, so soon? I just don't know if I'm really ready to do that! It's been five months. Today. Five months ago today. Wow. FIVE MONTHS! I almost didn't realize it was the 28th. That's just insane. It feels so long ago, yet at times, it feels like it was yesterday.
I don't know what to do. And chances are, this is going to be bothering me for some time. Once again, I find myself alone in having to deal with this. No one around me has had to go through this (luckily), so I have no one to go to for guidance. Once again, I wish there was a manual on how to do this. I'm open to your advice...
Until next time --
Stuart
Sunday, October 18, 2009
An Amazing Weekend!
What an amazing weekend. Truly AMAZING!
First, we'll start with some REALLY exciting news! I WON AN EMMY AWARD! Yes! An actual EMMY AWARD!
It's my very first one. I've been nominated 5 previous times but never won...until NOW! I'm so super excited...but it's really bittersweet because Jason was supposed to be here to see this. It really just drove home the fact that he's not here...he'll never be here to celebrate my wins, or even to help ease my losses. I know "he's here in spirit" and all that other blah blah blah...but, that doesn't make me feel better. I'm greedy, and I want him here with me...IN THE FLESH.
First, we'll start with some REALLY exciting news! I WON AN EMMY AWARD! Yes! An actual EMMY AWARD!
But, I put all my sad feelings aside for another celebration this weekend. It was the 2009 Dallas Light the Night Walk! I promised Jason before he died that if I won that Emmy...I would haul it around with me at the walk. And I did.
It was a fantastic night! TEAM JASON was out in FULL force.
I am SO incredibly blessed with an amazing group of friends and family. They have ALL been so amazing through all of this. They've given me unbelievable support with TEAM JASON and I can't thank them enough.
TEAM JASON has so far raised $10,550 for the fight against blood cancers. We were the #1 friends and family fundraising team in Dallas. ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!
It has been an unbelievably awesome weekend. So many wonderful memories...but also plenty of reminders that the love of my life is no longer here.
Until next time --
Stuart
Friday, October 16, 2009
From 0 to 10,000
Something amazing happened this morning. TEAM JASON, the team I created for the Dallas Light the Night Walk, officially raised more than $10,000! This morning, we crossed that amazing threshold with 2 days to spare (the walk is this Sunday).
I am both humbled and completely blown away by the outpouring of love and support for this wonderful cause. I was told yesterday that $500 helps support one family navigate their way through this awful disease. Our $10,000 will help 20 families! That is simply amazing, humbling, and inspiring!
What's also inspiring is how many people donated to our cause. People I've never met. People Jason never met. More than a dozen people who donated to the team (some donating $100 or more) never met Jason. They've only heard about him through a mutual friend or colleague, but because of the awesome connection he had to that person, these people felt compelled to donate to his memory. To me, THAT is the mark of a truly remarkable man whose legacy will continue to live on not only in those who know and love him, but also in those who merely hear about him from others. That is a testament to how many lives Jason touched and how deep those connections ran. We should all strive to be more like that.
I just wanted to take a moment through this medium to say THANK YOU to everyone who helped make TEAM JASON the amazing success that it is. No one did it alone. It was a complete team effort, and everyone from those who donated to those who spread the word should be proud of their effort and proud to be a part of the wonderful way we're honoring the most wonderful man in my life.
By the way - did I mention that TEAM JASON is the #1 fundraising team in DALLAS?! WE'RE NUMBER ONE BABY! How awesome is that!?
The walk is Sunday, and I'm so excited to be a part of it. I'm so much looking forward to seeing everyone there, celebrating our accomplishment, but most of all...celebrating the man who brought us all together.
Until next time--
Stuart
I am both humbled and completely blown away by the outpouring of love and support for this wonderful cause. I was told yesterday that $500 helps support one family navigate their way through this awful disease. Our $10,000 will help 20 families! That is simply amazing, humbling, and inspiring!
What's also inspiring is how many people donated to our cause. People I've never met. People Jason never met. More than a dozen people who donated to the team (some donating $100 or more) never met Jason. They've only heard about him through a mutual friend or colleague, but because of the awesome connection he had to that person, these people felt compelled to donate to his memory. To me, THAT is the mark of a truly remarkable man whose legacy will continue to live on not only in those who know and love him, but also in those who merely hear about him from others. That is a testament to how many lives Jason touched and how deep those connections ran. We should all strive to be more like that.
I just wanted to take a moment through this medium to say THANK YOU to everyone who helped make TEAM JASON the amazing success that it is. No one did it alone. It was a complete team effort, and everyone from those who donated to those who spread the word should be proud of their effort and proud to be a part of the wonderful way we're honoring the most wonderful man in my life.
By the way - did I mention that TEAM JASON is the #1 fundraising team in DALLAS?! WE'RE NUMBER ONE BABY! How awesome is that!?
The walk is Sunday, and I'm so excited to be a part of it. I'm so much looking forward to seeing everyone there, celebrating our accomplishment, but most of all...celebrating the man who brought us all together.
Until next time--
Stuart
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Say Jason To Me
I just read this poem on another blog, and just had to put it on mine. Beautiful words that couldn't be truer. This poem was rephrased and based on the book "Saying Olin to Goodbye" by Donald Hackett.
The time of concern is over. No longer am I asked how I am doing.
Never is the name of my partner mentioned to me.
A curtain descends. The moment has passed.
A life slips from frequent recall.
There are expectations...close and comforting friends, sensitive and loving family.
For most, the drama is over. The spotlight is off.
Applause is silent.
But for me, the play will never end. The effects are timeless.
On the stage of my life, he has been both lead and supporting actor.
Do not tiptoe around the greatest event of my life. Love does not die.
His name is written on my life. The sound of his voice replays within my mind.
You feel he is dead. I feel he is of the dead and still lives.
You say he WAS my partner. I say he IS.
It hurts to bury his memory in silence.
What he was in the flesh has now turned to ash.
What he is in spirit, stirs within me always. He is of my past, but he is part of my present.
He is my hope for the future. You say not to remind me. How little you understand that I cannot forget. I would not if I could.
I forgive you, because you cannot know. I strive not to judge you, for yesterday I was like you.
I do not ask you to walk this road. The ascent is steep and the burden heavy. I walk it not by choice. I would rather walk it with him in the flesh.
I am what I have to be. What I have lost you cannot feel. What I have gained you cannot see.
Say Jason, for he is alive in me.
He and I will meet again, though in many ways we have never parted. He and his life play light songs in my mind, sunrises and sunsets on my dreams. He is real and he is shadow.
He was and he is. He is my partner and I love him as I always did.
Say Jason to me and say Jason again.
The time of concern is over. No longer am I asked how I am doing.
Never is the name of my partner mentioned to me.
A curtain descends. The moment has passed.
A life slips from frequent recall.
There are expectations...close and comforting friends, sensitive and loving family.
For most, the drama is over. The spotlight is off.
Applause is silent.
But for me, the play will never end. The effects are timeless.
On the stage of my life, he has been both lead and supporting actor.
Do not tiptoe around the greatest event of my life. Love does not die.
His name is written on my life. The sound of his voice replays within my mind.
You feel he is dead. I feel he is of the dead and still lives.
You say he WAS my partner. I say he IS.
It hurts to bury his memory in silence.
What he was in the flesh has now turned to ash.
What he is in spirit, stirs within me always. He is of my past, but he is part of my present.
He is my hope for the future. You say not to remind me. How little you understand that I cannot forget. I would not if I could.
I forgive you, because you cannot know. I strive not to judge you, for yesterday I was like you.
I do not ask you to walk this road. The ascent is steep and the burden heavy. I walk it not by choice. I would rather walk it with him in the flesh.
I am what I have to be. What I have lost you cannot feel. What I have gained you cannot see.
Say Jason, for he is alive in me.
He and I will meet again, though in many ways we have never parted. He and his life play light songs in my mind, sunrises and sunsets on my dreams. He is real and he is shadow.
He was and he is. He is my partner and I love him as I always did.
Say Jason to me and say Jason again.
Monday, October 12, 2009
What's Next?
For the last few months...well, really since Jason died in late May, there has been distraction after distraction to keep my mind going. That's not to say that I've been in denial about Jason's death...or that I haven't been dealing with it. But, I've had other things, positive things, to keep me going and to help keep my chin up.
However, all of that will culminate in next Sunday's Light the Night Walk for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society in Dallas. The day after Jason's burial in Boston I created TEAM JASON for the Dallas walk, and in four months time we became the #1 fundraising team. Just this morning we crossed a major threshold...$9,000! I've worked my ass off over the last four months to raise money and ensure TEAM JASON's success.
But, come Sunday, it's all going to be over. And then what? I was really dreading the month of September because of all the reminders of Jason's absence. But, looking back...I wonder if I was really dreading it...or welcoming it because each event was just one more way...one more reason to feel close to Jason again. His mother asked me today what I'm going to do with myself after Sunday. I didn't have an answer for her...and still don't. I don't know what I'm going to do...I don't know how I'm going to continue to keep Jason's memory alive in me...and alive in others.
I've been kicking around the idea of creating and launching the TEAM JASON website for both the Light the Night Walk and for the Lone Star Ride. But, lately, I'm thinking that's not enough. First of all, those two events are so close together so I'm afraid that people will get confused and it will actually bring in fewer donations. However, I do feel strongly that merging these two teams could be good. I just need to give this project more thought...but it will happen. I will do this. I need to...for me...and for Jason. I will not let his life...his death be for nothing.
If anything, I'd like to use part of the site for reaching out to other widows of cancer. If you read my last blog, you'll understand why. More needs to be done to reach out to those of us who have been left behind...whose love has been stolen by this disease. We cannot be forgotten. Our fight should not be lost.
So, I'm open for suggestions about the new upcoming site. And here's to hoping that I don't lose my mind in a week after the walk is over. I'm really nervous now about how I'm going to feel, what I'm going to think. Will it all hit me at once, or will it be a gradual ambush? I guess only time will tell.
Until next time...
Stuart
However, all of that will culminate in next Sunday's Light the Night Walk for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society in Dallas. The day after Jason's burial in Boston I created TEAM JASON for the Dallas walk, and in four months time we became the #1 fundraising team. Just this morning we crossed a major threshold...$9,000! I've worked my ass off over the last four months to raise money and ensure TEAM JASON's success.
But, come Sunday, it's all going to be over. And then what? I was really dreading the month of September because of all the reminders of Jason's absence. But, looking back...I wonder if I was really dreading it...or welcoming it because each event was just one more way...one more reason to feel close to Jason again. His mother asked me today what I'm going to do with myself after Sunday. I didn't have an answer for her...and still don't. I don't know what I'm going to do...I don't know how I'm going to continue to keep Jason's memory alive in me...and alive in others.
I've been kicking around the idea of creating and launching the TEAM JASON website for both the Light the Night Walk and for the Lone Star Ride. But, lately, I'm thinking that's not enough. First of all, those two events are so close together so I'm afraid that people will get confused and it will actually bring in fewer donations. However, I do feel strongly that merging these two teams could be good. I just need to give this project more thought...but it will happen. I will do this. I need to...for me...and for Jason. I will not let his life...his death be for nothing.
If anything, I'd like to use part of the site for reaching out to other widows of cancer. If you read my last blog, you'll understand why. More needs to be done to reach out to those of us who have been left behind...whose love has been stolen by this disease. We cannot be forgotten. Our fight should not be lost.
So, I'm open for suggestions about the new upcoming site. And here's to hoping that I don't lose my mind in a week after the walk is over. I'm really nervous now about how I'm going to feel, what I'm going to think. Will it all hit me at once, or will it be a gradual ambush? I guess only time will tell.
Until next time...
Stuart
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
The Forgotten Warriors
I'm about to get on a soap box and speak honestly. I apologize in advance if my rant offends anyone. That is not my intention. I am in no way trying to undermine the amazing work that cancer warriors are doing. I am in no way trying to diminish their fight. This is just my view from where I sit.
Since Jason's diagnosis and subsequent death, I've inundated myself with people in the cancer community. Whether it be on twitter, facebook, or other websites...there is certainly no shortage of wonderful cancer fighting organizations. And that's great! I've enjoyed getting to know a few of them personally and professionally, and I admire so very much the work they're doing. I'm even volunteering my time and money with several of the organizations. My beef isn't even with them, per se.
Here's my problem. For 1 year exactly - from May 28, 2008 to May 28, 2009 - I fought right alongside Jason as he battled his disease. I was there for every step, every treatment, every speed bump, and I was there when that beautiful man let go. I had support from friends and family, sure, but I also had the support of a few great organizations. However, that all went away when Jason died. Now that his fight was over, I - the person who fought just as hard as he did - was forgotten. I was discarded as waste - or at least that's how I feel.
Now, that's not to say that every group did that. I've been welcomed into the local Leukemia & Lymphoma Society chapter and have worked my ass off to raise money for our Light the Night Walk team. They've been amazing to me, and I thank them for realizing that just because the person with the cancer is gone doesn't mean that those of us left behind don't need support. I'm all for providing hope, support, and encouragement to those who are still fighting this awful monster. I want everyone with this disease to make it. I don't want anyone to have to go through what Jason went through. It was awful.
But, I'm reaching a point of anger...disappointment...and frustration. There have been a number of times lately like I've "overstayed my welcome". I get the feeling like no one in the "living w/ cancer" world wants anything to do with me - a widower. I suppose I remind them of the reality that cancer kills. I remind them that no matter how much hope you have, no matter how many prayers you say, cancer still kills. I now feel like I've become part of a forgotten group...the widows and widowers who have been discarded from the cancer fight because we remind everyone else about cancer's ugly side. And, to be honest, I'm starting to get a little mad about it.
I told Jason the morning he died that I would not give up the fight. I told Jason that I would continue to fight in his name. That's exactly what I've been doing these last four months. But, I almost feel like I'm fighting alone. I mean, I've got my friends (and his friends, too), and family of course...and there are the wonderful folks at the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society for whom I've helped raise nearly $8,000. Beyond that, though, I feel pushed aside, and I don't know why.
I'm curious to know if there are others who feel this way. I'd like to know if I'm out of bounds on this one...if I'm just being a bitter-body looking for someone to be mad at. I don't think that's the case...at least I hope not. Maybe this can just be chalked up to that whole "everyone else is moving on with their lives and I'm still stuck in the past" feeling.
I really want to be a part of the fight. I want to be a part of the hope, the dream that one day there will be a cure for cancer. But, I also want people to know that until that happens - the reality is cancer does kill. I believe people in the "living w/ cancer" world should hear from those of us who have watched our loved one's battle against the disease end before our eyes. Hearing that reality, in my view, could help ignite even more of a fire to fight.
I guess all of this was sparked by a comment I saw on twitter today. A man who created a cancer organization for young adults with cancer said something that really bothered me. He addressed the members of the media and begged that we all stop using the word "victim" when talking about people with cancer. It's not the first time I've heard someone say that. But what's wrong with the word victim? Does it make the person sound weak? Are they not being victimized by the cancer? Is it not wreaking havoc on their body? Does that not make them a victim? When Jason died...did he not become a victim of cancer? Once again - those who died (and those left behind) are pushed aside because those still fighting don't want to see the other side.
Maybe I'm just being too sensitive. Maybe I'm just angry today. I haven't been angry in a long time.
Until next time -- I welcome your comments.
Stuart
Since Jason's diagnosis and subsequent death, I've inundated myself with people in the cancer community. Whether it be on twitter, facebook, or other websites...there is certainly no shortage of wonderful cancer fighting organizations. And that's great! I've enjoyed getting to know a few of them personally and professionally, and I admire so very much the work they're doing. I'm even volunteering my time and money with several of the organizations. My beef isn't even with them, per se.
Here's my problem. For 1 year exactly - from May 28, 2008 to May 28, 2009 - I fought right alongside Jason as he battled his disease. I was there for every step, every treatment, every speed bump, and I was there when that beautiful man let go. I had support from friends and family, sure, but I also had the support of a few great organizations. However, that all went away when Jason died. Now that his fight was over, I - the person who fought just as hard as he did - was forgotten. I was discarded as waste - or at least that's how I feel.
Now, that's not to say that every group did that. I've been welcomed into the local Leukemia & Lymphoma Society chapter and have worked my ass off to raise money for our Light the Night Walk team. They've been amazing to me, and I thank them for realizing that just because the person with the cancer is gone doesn't mean that those of us left behind don't need support. I'm all for providing hope, support, and encouragement to those who are still fighting this awful monster. I want everyone with this disease to make it. I don't want anyone to have to go through what Jason went through. It was awful.
But, I'm reaching a point of anger...disappointment...and frustration. There have been a number of times lately like I've "overstayed my welcome". I get the feeling like no one in the "living w/ cancer" world wants anything to do with me - a widower. I suppose I remind them of the reality that cancer kills. I remind them that no matter how much hope you have, no matter how many prayers you say, cancer still kills. I now feel like I've become part of a forgotten group...the widows and widowers who have been discarded from the cancer fight because we remind everyone else about cancer's ugly side. And, to be honest, I'm starting to get a little mad about it.
I told Jason the morning he died that I would not give up the fight. I told Jason that I would continue to fight in his name. That's exactly what I've been doing these last four months. But, I almost feel like I'm fighting alone. I mean, I've got my friends (and his friends, too), and family of course...and there are the wonderful folks at the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society for whom I've helped raise nearly $8,000. Beyond that, though, I feel pushed aside, and I don't know why.
I'm curious to know if there are others who feel this way. I'd like to know if I'm out of bounds on this one...if I'm just being a bitter-body looking for someone to be mad at. I don't think that's the case...at least I hope not. Maybe this can just be chalked up to that whole "everyone else is moving on with their lives and I'm still stuck in the past" feeling.
I really want to be a part of the fight. I want to be a part of the hope, the dream that one day there will be a cure for cancer. But, I also want people to know that until that happens - the reality is cancer does kill. I believe people in the "living w/ cancer" world should hear from those of us who have watched our loved one's battle against the disease end before our eyes. Hearing that reality, in my view, could help ignite even more of a fire to fight.
I guess all of this was sparked by a comment I saw on twitter today. A man who created a cancer organization for young adults with cancer said something that really bothered me. He addressed the members of the media and begged that we all stop using the word "victim" when talking about people with cancer. It's not the first time I've heard someone say that. But what's wrong with the word victim? Does it make the person sound weak? Are they not being victimized by the cancer? Is it not wreaking havoc on their body? Does that not make them a victim? When Jason died...did he not become a victim of cancer? Once again - those who died (and those left behind) are pushed aside because those still fighting don't want to see the other side.
Maybe I'm just being too sensitive. Maybe I'm just angry today. I haven't been angry in a long time.
Until next time -- I welcome your comments.
Stuart
Friday, October 2, 2009
To Where You Are
The following song came on the radio tonight while I was driving home from a friends house and I seriously almost had to pull over because I was crying so hard. It's a Josh Groban song (written and performed first by Richard Marx). Here's a youtube video of a live version with a touching story to go with it. Lyrics are below that. Tell me this doesn't make you cry.
To Where You Are lyrics
Who can say for certain
Maybe you're still here
I feel you all around me
Your memory's so clear
Deep in the stillness
I can hear you speak
You're still an inspiration
Can it be (?)
That you are mine
Forever love
And you are watching over me from up above
Fly me up to where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile to know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are
Are you gently sleeping
Here inside my dream
And isn't faith believing
All power can't be seen
As my heart holds you
Just one beat away
I cherish all you gave me everyday
'Cause you are my
Forever love
Watching me from up above
And I believe
That angels breathe
And that love will live on and never leave
Fly me up
To where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile
To know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are
I know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are
To Where You Are lyrics
Who can say for certain
Maybe you're still here
I feel you all around me
Your memory's so clear
Deep in the stillness
I can hear you speak
You're still an inspiration
Can it be (?)
That you are mine
Forever love
And you are watching over me from up above
Fly me up to where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile to know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are
Are you gently sleeping
Here inside my dream
And isn't faith believing
All power can't be seen
As my heart holds you
Just one beat away
I cherish all you gave me everyday
'Cause you are my
Forever love
Watching me from up above
And I believe
That angels breathe
And that love will live on and never leave
Fly me up
To where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile
To know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are
I know you're there
A breath away's not far
To where you are
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