A City Remembers

Tonight, I'll be speaking at a city-wide memorial service to remember those lost to leukemia & lymphoma. The LLS is hosting the event, and I've helped them plan and put this all together. They asked me to give a little speech - about Jason, our experience, and my grief. Here is what I'll be saying.

Good evening. My name is Stuart Boslow. I'm 29 years old, and 4 months ago, I lost my soulmate to this awful monster called cancer. My partner, Jason, was diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma on May 28, 2008...and exactly one year later on May 28, 2009...I stood next to his bed, holding his hand, as he took his last breath. At 29-years old, I was calling friends, family, and co-workers to inform them that the love of my life was gone.

In the days after his death, I was in such a "go" mode, that I never gave myself time to really feel and experience what I had just been through. There was the planning of the memorial service, dealing with the remains, and a million other details. There were meetings about the will, the house, and his belongings. It was all so matter-of-fact...and business-like. It wasn't until weeks later that I truly began to comprehend what happened. It wasn't until weeks later, when I truly felt the extent of my loss.

In those weeks right after he died, I was surrounded by friends and family...loved ones who all wanted to make sure I was ok. I began to loathe the "Are you ok" question. It was the only question anyone would ask, and I was tired of answering it. Obviously, I was not ok, but I always said yes because I didn't think anyone really wanted the truth. I was surrounded by people, yet I felt so incredibly alone.

Later, when the dust had settled and everyone else had returned to their lives...I was still stuck in the past - trying to come to terms with everything. I would replay the moments of his death over and over in my head. I felt like I was walking around with a giant scarlet letter on my chest. I began feeling guilty for bringing him up in conversation because I could see my the person get uncomfortable when they didn't know how to respond. When someone would try to help - I'd get mad because I felt like I was being lectured on how I should be grieving.

It took me a while to realize - there is no one way to grieve. It's different for everyone. Grief is probably the most personal feeling you'll ever go through in your life. It's even more personal than love, I believe...because love you share with another. Grief, is yours and yours alone. No one can tell you how to do it, or for how long…and no one should tell you when it's time to move on. Only YOU can know when it's time. If it's one thing I've learned through this whole experience, it's to listen to myself...to my heart, because THAT is what is going to guide me through this. Once I realized that and started listening to my heart, I truly began to heal.

Jason died four months ago Monday, and I can now answer the "Are you ok" question honestly. I am ok. I no longer feel the need to hide my feelings. I no longer feel guilty for speaking his name, and I'm no longer ashamed of getting upset. The horrific memories of the moments of his death have faded and the wonderful memories we made together have come back to the surface. I close my eyes now and I hear his laugh, his jokes, I see his face...and best of all, I still feel his love...and all of that makes me smile. They say that time heals...and I believe it does. They say that grief never goes away, it just gets easier to deal with. I'd say that is true.

It's evident by your attendance here tonight that - no matter how long it's been since your loved one died - it's still important for you to take time to pause and remember what he or she meant to you and your life. That's truly amazing...and is a wonderful example of how...through memories...people can live forever. For me, I carry my memories of Jason where ever I go, and take a moment every day to say "I love you."

I heard the poem I'm about to read in a movie called In Her Shoes, and the first time I heard it, it didn't mean a thing. I heard it again shortly after Jason died, and the words just stuck with me. It's called I carry your heart with me, by E. E. Cummings.

“I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart. I am never without it. Anywhere I go, you go. And whatever is done by only me... is your doing. I fear no fate... for you are my fate. I want no world, for you are my world. Here is the deepest secret no one knows. Here is the root of the root... and the bud of the bud... and the sky of the sky of a tree called life which grows higher than the soul can hope... I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.”

Thank you.