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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)