It Would Be An Honor

I received a call today from a woman with the Dallas Light The Night Walk organization. She and I met at my station a couple weeks ago to chat about the walk and ways to promote it. We had a great chat, and I learned that Team Jason is one of the top fundraisers so far. Very cool!

Today she called to ask me a favor. They've decided to do something different this year. Normally, at the Light The Night event, they'll have a memorial/remembrance ceremony before the walk starts. She explained that they've never felt right about it...that it's never felt like they've given the victims of Leukemia/Lymphoma the time and respect needed to honor them during this service. This year, they're taking a cue from another chapter, and they're creating a seperate event. It'll be the Dallas Remembrance Ceremony for all of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society sub groups - like Team in Training and Light the Night.

She called to tell me about the event, and then she shocked me. They want me to host the event in honor of Jason. They want me to share his story in honor of the countless others who've fought and lost battles with blood cancer. After I got over the inital shock, I was so unbelievably honored and humbled. I said YES, of course.

It later sunk in the enormity of this task. I have to stand in front of what could be hundreds of people (though most likely it'll be a lot less) and tell Jason's story...and my own. I have to talk about his fight, his struggle, and his death. I have to be strong up there...and not break down like I did at the funeral when reading my speech. That's going to be the hardest task of them all. But I'm up to it. It's a challenge that I accept...without a doubt.

I began thinking later tonight...I hope Jason is proud of what I'm doing in his name. Team Jason has been a success so far. Between his friend Jerrod and I, we've raised nearly $2,000! The walk is still 3 months away. The $3,000 goal I set at the beginning may be too low. I may have to raise that to $5,000. I can't tell you how proud I am of all of this. I just hope Jason is. I think he would be. I think he'd be embarrassed by all the attention, and I laugh when I say this... he's not here to say no! Finally, I get to say to him - sit back and shut up and take in all the love, the kind words, and the overwhelming feeling of support for you. Take it all in and let it fill you...because it is amazing how many lives you touched...and these people need to tell you that.

Until next time...

Stuart

Hardly A Hero

I found this song tonight and its words just struck me. The first verse and chorus gave me chills.

Hardly A Hero by Levi Kreis:

Just an ordinary man
Thrown into a life I didn't plan
Suddenly my world has changed
I'm unprepared to make my way
My resolve is growing weak
So unsure of who I'm supposed to be
The one who takes the noble path
Or the one who wants what he can never have

And I'm hardly the hero
This is the only thing I know to do
To make it through
But I need you to believe
That beneath this bravado
I'd still give anything to have a chance
To get you back
And I'm hardly a hero for that

Exuberant and terrified
Every time I look into your eyes
But I can't entertain the thought
Cuz we both know I'm not the man you thought I was

And I'm hardly the hero
This is the only thing I know to do
To make it through
But I need you to believe
That beneath this bravado
I'd still give anything to have a chance
To get you back
And I'm hardly a hero for that

The ones I love will always be
The ones who pay the price
And so I set aside my dreams
To do the thing that's right
And keep it all inside

And I'm hardly the hero
This is the only thing I know to do
To make it through
But I need you to believe
That beneath this bravado
I'd still give anything to have a chance
To love again
And I'm hardly the hero for that
Yeah I'm hardly a hero

A week Turns Into Another Month

July 28th. 2 months have passed now. It feels like yesterday that I was saying that about 1 month. I can't believe another month has gone by without him. The saying is "Time flies when you're having fun." I haven't had a lot of fun, but it still flew by.

We got the house on the market, and have already seen a huge interest in it. That's a good sign and hopefully it won't be on the market long. I go back and forth in my feeling about letting go of the house. At first I was excited when I heard it was being shown the day after we posted it. Then I found out that person requested a second look several days later and I realized this could all be wrapped up very quickly. My heart began to hurt, and I caught myself before having a panic attack.

This past weekend...I had one last hurrah in the house that was to be ours. My best friend Tanya was in town visiting from Atlanta. We stayed at the house rather than cramming ourselves in my one bedroom apartment. It was a FANTASTIC weekend...and I think I'm glad to say that while my final memories of the house aren't with Jason, at least they're filled with love and happiness. That's what's going to get me through this next step in closing this chapter.

I've really been doing good over the last couple weeks. There were some downer days while we were packing up the house, but all in all...I'd say I've laughed and smiled a helluva lot more than I cried. I'm starting to remember the good times, the great times...and I'm not replaying the final days over as much. I guess this is what they call healing.

I talked to Jason tonight. I asked for his help tomorrow. My brother is taking the dog he's had for the last 14 years to be put down tomorrow afternoon. My heart breaks for him because I know he's completely torn up about it. He and Debo (the dog) have been through so much together. I asked Jason (my brother) if he wanted me to go with him, but he said no...he wants to do it by himself. I completely understand. But, he won't be alone. My Jason will be there. I asked him to be tonight. I asked him to be there to take Debo and to look after him. Jason loved dogs...so I know Debo will be in great hands.

I leave a week from today to go to Boston to see him. The tombstone is supposed to be up sometime this week, so I'm looking forward to seeing that when I get there. After a day and a half in Boston, I fly to New York City to spend the weekend with my childhood best friend Michael for his birthday. I'm VERY much looking forward to that part of the trip. I haven't been to NYC in years.

I can't believe it's already been 2 months.

Until next time...

Stuart

Emotional Boxes

What a difference a day makes. Last night's blog was all about moving on, lifting spirits, and being ready. Tonight...I feel like I've taken a giant leap backwards.

Today we broke through most of the boxes that had been sitting untouched in Jason's home office. Contained inside were most of his personal belongings...pictures, cards, and trinquets. I was doing ok until I was looking through the stack of Playbills that he had collected. I came across the Playbill for The Lion King. It was our first big date...just two weeks after we'd actually met in person. His ticket was still inside the program. I held the program against my face, hoping to smell him on it. I held it against my chest hoping to feel him there. When I didn't, I got upset and had to leave the room where the others were still working.

I composed myself and went back in to continue. The next thing was a giant envelope full of greeting cards. They were all the cards people had sent him throughout his illness. I went through separating all of the cards that I had given him. Early on in his illness, I had gotten in the habit of hiding "Thinking of You" or "Get Well" or "I love you" cards around his house. It was something that I felt I could do...something, he later told me, that brought a smile to his face. Sometimes I'd hide the card and he wouldn't find it for weeks...but when he did...it was after a set-back...a rough chemo treatment or something like that. It was almost like I was being directed when and where to place them so that he would find them when he most needed them. He had kept every single one of them...which set me off crying again. I read them...and for most of them...remembered writing the notes inside...and remember where I hid them.

It was extremely difficult dividing up his things...his most personal possessions among the 5 of us (his parents, myself, Jerrod, Rob, and the trash). It's hard to realize that this is the final stage...that after all of this is done, I really do have to let go. I guess I'm not as ready to do that as I thought.

All in due time, I guess.

Until next time...

Stuart

Packing Up & Moving On

It's been an interesting day to say the least. After doing some work this morning, I, along with Jason's parents and two friends, began to pack up Jason's life. We're removing most of his personal belongings from the house so that we can put it on the market. Hopefully we'll be able to sell it quickly so his estate doesn't incur more costs.

We started in the guest room...cleaning out the closets where he had hung his coats and other things that didn't fit in the master bedroom closet. From there we moved into the master bedroom tackling the armoire and all of his sweaters. It was a very weird feeling going through his clothes piece by piece...all of us deciding whether we wanted to keep it or toss it. Each of us took several pieces that meant something to us...or that we could weave into our own wardrobe. Still, though...it just felt weird.

Everyone kept asking me if I was ok...if I was handling this ok...and how I really felt. It left me wondering if I should be feeling more strongly about what's going on than I am. I'm sad...sure...but honestly...I'm looking forward to finishing this part up, selling the house, and saying goodbye to the final piece of this horrible puzzle. This house, while I love it dearly...needs to go. I've talked to some widows who have said they could never let go of the home where their partners have died. I don't feel that way.

This house is the one we were to share together. This house is something he chose. This is where we grew closer together...where we shared a bed. This is where we painted the living room...hung hanging plants in the backyard...and had countless conversations. But, it's also the house where he was most sick. It's the house that we came to after hearing that he had two months to live. It's the house where I watched him break down crying because he couldn't put up his own Christmas tree. And...it's the house where he died. He died 10 feet away from where I sit now typing this blog. I look at that spot and all I see is that awful hospital bed with him lying in it. I can still see his parents and I standing there holding his hand as he took his last breath. I see it every time I walk in here. I don't want to see it anymore.

More and more, I'm starting to realize that I'm beginning to feel ready to move on. I'm beginning to think that I need to close this chapter of my life and begin anew. Am I wrong for wanting to do this not even two months before the love of my life left me? I'm tired of thinking about it. I'm tired of crying about it. I'm tired of feeling like I can't let go. Jason would be screaming at me right now to get over it! Maybe I need to listen to him.

Until next time...

Stuart

They're Back!

Tonight, I picked up Jason's parents from the airport. They're back in Dallas to get things with the house situated. We'll be packing up most of Jason's personal belongings and getting the house ready to put on the market. We have a meeting with the realtor on Friday to set the price and sign the listing contract.

It's going to be a bittersweet weekend...but honestly, I'm looking forward to the tasks ahead. I think it'll do us all some good to surround ourselves with Jason's things...his memories. I think it'll all help us have final closure and help us all to begin to really let go.

It amazes me to think that it's been a month now since we buried that beautiful urn at the grave in Hudson, MA. It also amazes me at how little closure something like that brings. I thought for sure that I would feel closure after the funeral...but it was almost worse afterwards.

So, it'll be onward and upward from this weekend forth. It's time to put this house and the memories contained within away. They'll be tucked into my mind...in my heart...and in my soul forever. I will call on them when I need them...and they'll always be there for me. I'm ready to let this house go. I'm ready to let go of the pain and sadness.

It's going to be a good weekend. There will be times of sadness...times of frustration...but there will also be times of fun...sharing memories...and laughter. I'm looking forward to it.

Until next time --

Stuart

A Weekend, A Boat, and a Tear

It's been a few days since my last blog...and something exciting has happened. My brother and I have been talking about doing this for a month or so...and we finally did it. We bought a BOAT!!

It's a 1994 Four Winns 20' open bow. It looks fantastic and has a nearly new engine. We got it on Saturday and spent most of Sunday out on the water. It was fantastic!! I had a great time, and can't wait to get back on it.

One of the things Jason wanted to do before he died was get on a boat and hang out on the water. Things went too fast, and we weren't able to do it. That's one of the reasons why I wanted to go in on this deal with my brother. I wanted to do this for Jason. This way - everytime I'm on the boat, he'll be there with me...having a great time. I even wore my "Team Jason" t-shirt for the inaugural ride out. I want him to be there with me experiencing all of it.

My crying fits have stopped for the most part over the last few days. That is until earlier when I was talking to a friend about everything. I hadn't talked to him much since Jason was gone, so we had a lot of catching up to do. It was good to talk to him, but I didn't think I would react the way I did when I started talking about Jason. I guess I had lulled myself in to a sense that I wouldn't get upset when I talked about it. Guess I was wrong.

Jason's parents arrive on Thursday. We'll be getting the house ready to put on the market. Hopefully that'll happen on Friday...and if we play our cards right, the house will sell fairly quickly. We'll be hosting an estate sale once the contract is signed and before the closing. I think this is going to be an emotional time. I don't know how I'm gonna feel about letting the house go once and for all. It's the last link I have to him. It's where he died.

Anyway, work is keeping me busy this week, which is a good thing. I'm looking forward to seeing Jason's folks. I can't believe it's already been a month since we buried him. It was a month ago today. Wow. And the tears begin again.

Until next time...

Stuart

Walking On Eggshells

Last night, my mother told me she felt like she had to walk on eggshells around me. She said that I've been distant...cold...and rude. She said she just wants to know that I'm ok...to which I replied "I'm not ok, and I'm being distant because I'm trying figure out and rediscover myself...who I am without Jason." I told her that I may seem cold and rude simply because she asks too many damn fucking questions and I don't feel like answering them.

I wonder now, though, if others feel like they're having to walk on eggshells when they're around me or talking to me. I sincerely hope not. If that's the case then I need a serious readjustment. But, if people won't say anything to me...or are afraid to...how can I change?

I told my mom that she's just going to have to be patient with me. I said its not everyday you lose someone who you shared a bed with...who you cared for over the course of a year. Once again, I found myself having to justify my feelings...my grief....and I don't like having to do that time and time again. I'll withdraw from everyone if I have to to get some fucking peace and quiet! What part of "I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE" don't people understand?

No Cry Day

Today's the first day in more than a week that I haven't felt like I was on the verge of tears all day. There've been a few moments when I thought I could cry, but none that have left me scrambling for a tissue.

I reconnected with a woman I did a story on last year around this time. Her name is Jocelyn and she lost her husband, Brian, in the war in Iraq. She's 28 years old now and has been a widow for several years already. I remember thinking to myself a year ago when I interviewed her that I'd never be able to understand what she's been through. How things can change in a year. While I didn't lose my love on a battlefield in a foreign country, I did lose him on the battlefield of science and medicine. He died fighting an enemy just as evil as the insurgents in Iraq.

Other than the way they died, there is one profound difference in the deaths of these two great men. I was able to be there by Jason's bedside when he took his final breath. I was able to shower him with love, affection, and assurance that we would all be ok after he'd gone. Jocelyn wasn't given that opportunity. She didn't find out about Brian's death until many hours after it had happened. But I question whether I got the better side of that or not. Is it better to have been there, to have witnessed it? I sent her an email this afternoon to ask her that question. I'm very interested to hear her point of view.

Here's the story I produced about her and the group she helped start. It's called The American Widow Project. They are our country's forgotten heroes...fighting the war on terror from home.

In other non-related news...it looks like my brother and I will be co-owners of a new (to us) boat! We'll be taking it for the weekend to try it out and see how we like it. If all goes well, we'll be boat owners by Monday! I'm extremely excited about this, and very much looking forward to some awesome times on the lake for the rest of the summer.

Until next time...
Stuart

Crying Helps

When I got into bed last night, I began to cry. I cried harder and harder until I was in full bawl mode. I cried for about 30 minutes straight...only taking breaks to blow my nose. The words I wrote in my last blog struck a nerve, I think. The last part...about being happy.

I think I got scared last night that I might never be happy again. Not like happy as in "Oh I'm having a good day". Happy as in a "Oh I have everything I've been looking for" kind of way. I tried to tell Jason how happy he made me, but I don't know that he ever fully understood. He does now. He knows my entire heart now.

Why am I so fixated on finding love again...finding happiness again? Why am I letting it consume me at night...every night? I'm not over Jason...not nearly at all. I never will be over Jason. I'm not even sure I've begun to process what happened. So why the pressure on myself to move on romantically? I think it's because of a conversation he and I had in the car one day on our way back from the hospital. He was very concerned with the fact that I wouldn't move on after he'd died. He told me that he wanted me to move on...to meet someone else...to be happy again. I laughed at him and told him he was crazy. I said that of course I'd move on, but that it wouldn't be for quite a while. I mean, my last relationship was several years ago - and that guy just cheated on me. Imagine how long it'll take me to get over my partner dying! But yet - as I recall that conversation...I'm wondering now if subconsciously I'm putting pressure on myself to fulfill his wishes.

I chatted with someone tonight online. It was the first time I've chatted with someone there at length in a long time. He made me laugh...made me smile. He also made me forget for a little bit that I was sad. I thanked him for doing that. He even asked some questions about Jason. He seemed genuinely interested in knowing me, knowing what I've just been through. He was sympathetic and caring...even though we'd only just "met". He made me realize that maybe I'd put too little stock in the gay community in my previous posts. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there are more "good guys" out there who will look at what I've just been through as a badge of honor, rather than a scarlet letter. It's too bad this guy lives in Michigan. LOL

I'm heading to bed in a few minutes...desperately hoping that I don't have a repeat performance of last night's waterworks. All in due time, I guess. I still haven't figured out why this weekend was so hard. It doesn't make sense. Maybe it will be clearer tomorrow.

Until then...

Stuart

Missing You

Why do I miss you more this weekend than I have in previous weekends? Do I really miss you more, or am I just feeling it more now? I'm guessing its the latter question.

I went back to DFW Founders Plaza to talk to you. It was crowded, so I stayed in my car. The planes were taking off towards the north this time...so instead of watching landings, I watched the take-offs. It was a nice change. I enjoy watching the take-offs more than the landings. There's something magnificent about each take-off. Maybe that's why you enjoyed this so much. It's breathtaking to watch. Maybe that's you underneath each plane, lifting it up off the ground.

I miss holding your hand. I miss feeling your gentle grip on my leg. I miss the nights when I would get into bed with you and kiss you goodnight. I miss our routine. It was like our own special dance...only the two of us knew it. It was so simple and so trivial, but not doing it now...I miss it so much. I miss just being in your presence...watching you sleep...hearing you breathe. I miss every little thing about you.

I also miss who I was when I was with you. I was happy.

Stuart...Meet Loneliness. Again.

Loneliness is something I've dealt with many times in my life. After high school, I had one meaningful relationship before I came out of the closet. I came out in 1999 and since then I've had fewer relationships than the fingers on one hand. Little did I know I've been in a meaningful relationship this whole time...with loneliness. Its been my partner far long than anyone...no matter how many times I've tried to break it off.

Jason was the first man I've ever connected with on a deeper level. He got me almost more than I get myself. I got him, too. More than he wanted at times. We could read each others minds and finish each others sentences. I knew from our very first conversation online that he was different than any other man I'd chatted with.

I remember it so well. I was laying on the floor of my living room chatting away on gay.com. I was fairly new to Dallas, so I was still considered "new meat". I saw Jason's picture pop up in the chat room and was instantly attracted. I sent him an instant message completely expecting to be ignored like many others had done to me that night. He didn't though. He said hi right back. We chatted for about two hours that night. We continued to chat for about two months on the computer then on the phone before we decided it was time to meet.

It was gay pride weekend and we both realized we'd be out at the same time and place. We texted at the bar and he made his way into the room I was in. I saw him before he saw me...and I was immediately smitten. I had a big dipey smile on my face by the time he made it over to say hi. We chatted for a few minutes before he left to return to his friends. I texted him a few minutes later and asked him to dinner. The following week, we had our first date at PF Changs...my favorite restaurant.

From that moment on, I was hooked. Jason wasn't quite sure, though. It took a few more months of convincing before he would call me his boyfriend...though we were practically together from that very first date. I fell so madly in love with him. I fell harder than I've ever fallen before. But in February of '08, things had grown cold between us physically, and we both decided it was over. We remained friends, though, and quite honestly, I never stopped loving him.

That's why when he was diagnosed with that monster three months later I went head over heels again to help him. I loved him like I've never loved anything else in this life. It was my duty, my job, my honor, and my pleasure to help him...to do whatever it took to see that he was taken care of. He resisted for a while at first...just like he had at the beginning of our relationship. But, like that, he relaxed some and let me in. That's when we got back together in my mind...though it wasn't official for several more months. Several weeks before he died, he was hospitalized for pain management. The nurse one night asked us how long we'd been together. Without skipping a beat, he said two years. I knew then that he disregarded our time "apart"...just as I had.

In the nearly two years since we met, I never once felt lonely. The second I met him...the loneliness I had always felt disappeared. I suppose that only happens when you're standing in front of your soulmate...the person who makes your life complete. Jason was that man for me. He killed loneliness from my life, but the second he died loneliness was reborn. Just like a newborn baby, it grows bigger every day...nursed by emptiness & pain.

I am now a wounded soul. I'm incomplete. My other half is gone...and I'm not entirely sure if the missing half will ever be filled back in. I know no man will ever be able to replace Jason in my life. No man will ever be able to take his place in my heart. But, I'm afraid there's no man who will even want to try. Can my wounded soul ever be mended? If so, is there a man on this earth who possesses the tools to fix it?

I guess its a good sign that there is still a very small part of me that answered those questions "I hope so". Hope exists somewhere in my soul. I feel it there. I just hope I can remember to feed that sometimes...instead of the loneliness.

Until next time...
Stuart

The Fourth of July

I sat at my brother's house tonight to watch the neighbors shoot off fireworks in the street. Its the annual "White Trash Fourth", but this year wasn't the same.

Last year, Jason was a month into his first chemo treatment and had had a bad reaction to some of the new meds he was on. He had a horrible rash that covered his entire body. It was there for about 2 months straight. He was very self conscious about it and didn't like being seen in public. I was able to convince him to come to the 4th celebration at my brother's, though. He said later it was good to get out of the house. Despite his being upset at the way he looked, it was still special to spend the holiday with him. We ate, laughed, watched the fireworks go off over our heads. It was a nice evening.

I was looking forward to partying it up this year. But...it just doesn't feel like the 4th. After getting there, I realized I didn't feel much like celebrating. Instead, I just wanted to come home and get on the couch and vegg. I had two drinks and decided I was done.

I suspect the next few holidays will feel like this. I'd rather just get them over with, so I can start to feel like celebrating again. I just don't feel like I have anything to celebrate today. It's our country's birthday. Woo - freakin' - whoo. I'd rather have the man I love standing next to me.

Until next time...
Stuart

A Guardian Angel Named Jason

A Letter To My New Guardian Angel:

My dearest love,

I wish you were here to talk to me. I so need your guidance, advice, and counsel right now. I'm about to embark on what I hope will be an amazing new journey in my life, and I need you by my side.

Several months before you died, we talked many times about the changes I wanted to make in my career. You knew how unsatisfied I was (and still am) in my current position. It's because of you and that awful disease that I seek this change, and as weird as this sounds...I couldn't thank you or cancer enough.

In the coming weeks, I hope to begin to turn my hatred of the disease that took you away from me into something meaningful...something useful...and something fulfilling. Cancer may have stolen the love of my life, but I'm going to make sure that it will give back to me in many other ways.

So, as I prepare for what lies ahead tomorrow and the days and weeks to come, I know that you'll be by my side to help me be the best I can be. I know that you'll be up there pulling as many strings as you can to make this happen for me. I know that when I get this job that I want almost as much as I want you back, I will have you to thank.

Please give me strength to get through this. Give me wisdom I'll need to move forward. Give me calm and understanding to deal with the problems I'll face. Most of all, continue to give me the love and support you have for the last two years.

I love you so incredibly much, and miss you more than you can ever imagine. Come visit me in my dreams soon.

I love you.

Stuart