Certainly a club nobody wants to join! As a member of the club, your writing makes me smile as a tear emerges; for you, for Mr J, for me, for (my) John ... for the courage all of us in this club show and share. Thank you for sharing this intimacy.
Simone, I am so sorry for the loss of your John. But given that variable that we can't control, I am glad you and I have found each other and can walk together, sharing in our grief.
“…a few minutes of companionable silence…” a beautiful way to capture the wordless understanding we share with friends, lovers, and folks in our (terrible) club.
The shock of diagnosis and the ensuing dark humor is familiar. Thanks for sharing these conversations.
Jen, thank you for your comments. I am glad you appreciate the dark humor. It tends to alarm some people. But then, those people haven't given much thought to how to handle their loved one's death. . .
Anne, I appreciate you sharing the precious and awful moments with Mr. J. These moments are so much more powerful than words printed after he has gone. I still have questions about what my brothers wrote about our Dad ten years ago. Them all paranoid about scammers stealing his identity, me wanting to share the essence of what he had lived. I finally let go, because it was something that no longer mattered to my Dad. I hold his complexities in my memories and still speak with him within my heart.
You will find your right path with Mr. J.
You might not fully know what that is until you get there.
“knell. It took me 18 months to (mostly) right the ship in my own emotion ocean.” You’ve such a way with words 💚 I’m sorry you have to be going through this but I’m grateful that through your pain you’re writing such a beautiful combination of words.
Again, I'm so sorry for what you're going through - and thank you for sharing. I hope Mr. J realises how lucky he is to have you - and I love the fact you write that you'd do it all again. Your words "the club nobody wants to join" really struck a chord with me. My situation is very different (my adult daughter survived a massive stroke) but I've also been thinking and writing about "the club" - in fact, it WAS going to be the title of my memoir, but because I didnt find much clubbiness, I've changed the title to "The Island". I hope you do find comfort in some kind of club, even though it's not one you would've joined voluntarily. And I'm hoping to find my club through Substack. Sending you strength, luck, courage, love...
La Chevre, Mr. J and are are both well aware of how lucky we are (and how much work it is to stay deliriously happy after all these years). I am sorry for your pain and your grief. Different but the same. "Island" is, indeed, apropos. However, here, I am finding an abundance of fellow grievers who understand the pain without me having to explain it to them. And that is priceless to me. I hope you find your club here as well. I hope I can be part of it.
It's strange to say I love to read your posts because you write about the suffering you're experiencing and I don't love suffering for anyone. But it's a universal thing, to greater or lesser extent, for us all at different times and, in some odd way, it helps all of us to share it. One thing we don't do well as humans is face the end of our lives in a compassionate manner. We shouldn't have to pick bridges or freezing when there are more comfortable dignified ways. My very loose plan, should I need one, is to move someplace at the end where it's legal to help make this last transition less harrowing. There's an organization called Compassion and Choices that does great work in that realm. Sending you hope for a comforting process, however it happens.
Trevy, thank you for your kind words and your insights. Yes, making dying a household concept is difficult, but I believe we should do it - at least I should do it. It feels right to me to check in about things like cremation, where he wants his remains, etc, while I still can.
Perhaps I was meant to read your articles out of their chrono-order...because after the consult and news, I'm steadily making my way through saved articles and found I'd missed this.
I appreciate how you and Mr J 'Banter' in the dark humour of it all - love in action in all it's painful reality...so I draw back to Ilona's comment 'you can't do this wrong' - Especially given this level of skilful banter'g!
I'm not turning away from any of that dark humour or talk of death - being able to express it and not bottle it has helped a LOT of carers I know, including myself. It's also helped several 'eldercarers' who don't wish their parents to die but still wish 'release' sooner rather than later given e.g. cancer or heart symptoms for them and the strain on the family...contextualising life in its mortality and pain is not an ethical/immoral act in my book, it's expressing the grief and humanity of it all....oof - guess I felt the resonance then!
You may want to ask Elin Petronella to design something. It's certainly worth having a unique piece of artwork for this next year. (I'm trying to catch up on reading!)
Certainly a club nobody wants to join! As a member of the club, your writing makes me smile as a tear emerges; for you, for Mr J, for me, for (my) John ... for the courage all of us in this club show and share. Thank you for sharing this intimacy.
Simone, I am so sorry for the loss of your John. But given that variable that we can't control, I am glad you and I have found each other and can walk together, sharing in our grief.
Me too 🙏🏼💜
“…a few minutes of companionable silence…” a beautiful way to capture the wordless understanding we share with friends, lovers, and folks in our (terrible) club.
The shock of diagnosis and the ensuing dark humor is familiar. Thanks for sharing these conversations.
Jen, thank you for your comments. I am glad you appreciate the dark humor. It tends to alarm some people. But then, those people haven't given much thought to how to handle their loved one's death. . .
Anne, I appreciate you sharing the precious and awful moments with Mr. J. These moments are so much more powerful than words printed after he has gone. I still have questions about what my brothers wrote about our Dad ten years ago. Them all paranoid about scammers stealing his identity, me wanting to share the essence of what he had lived. I finally let go, because it was something that no longer mattered to my Dad. I hold his complexities in my memories and still speak with him within my heart.
You will find your right path with Mr. J.
You might not fully know what that is until you get there.
Thank you, Teyani. I appreciate your support. I am still learning how to handle this whole thing. Your words of encouragement mean the world to me.
“knell. It took me 18 months to (mostly) right the ship in my own emotion ocean.” You’ve such a way with words 💚 I’m sorry you have to be going through this but I’m grateful that through your pain you’re writing such a beautiful combination of words.
Sheila, what a lovely thing to say. Thank you.
Thank you for your writing talents 💚
Thank you for writing about your experience and putting your entire heart into this blog. You are not alone. [Virtual hug]
Thank you, Kristina. I have missed you. I hope things are, well, manageable at the moment. I hope you come back soon.
Again, I'm so sorry for what you're going through - and thank you for sharing. I hope Mr. J realises how lucky he is to have you - and I love the fact you write that you'd do it all again. Your words "the club nobody wants to join" really struck a chord with me. My situation is very different (my adult daughter survived a massive stroke) but I've also been thinking and writing about "the club" - in fact, it WAS going to be the title of my memoir, but because I didnt find much clubbiness, I've changed the title to "The Island". I hope you do find comfort in some kind of club, even though it's not one you would've joined voluntarily. And I'm hoping to find my club through Substack. Sending you strength, luck, courage, love...
La Chevre, Mr. J and are are both well aware of how lucky we are (and how much work it is to stay deliriously happy after all these years). I am sorry for your pain and your grief. Different but the same. "Island" is, indeed, apropos. However, here, I am finding an abundance of fellow grievers who understand the pain without me having to explain it to them. And that is priceless to me. I hope you find your club here as well. I hope I can be part of it.
Thanks
It's strange to say I love to read your posts because you write about the suffering you're experiencing and I don't love suffering for anyone. But it's a universal thing, to greater or lesser extent, for us all at different times and, in some odd way, it helps all of us to share it. One thing we don't do well as humans is face the end of our lives in a compassionate manner. We shouldn't have to pick bridges or freezing when there are more comfortable dignified ways. My very loose plan, should I need one, is to move someplace at the end where it's legal to help make this last transition less harrowing. There's an organization called Compassion and Choices that does great work in that realm. Sending you hope for a comforting process, however it happens.
Trevy, thank you for your kind words and your insights. Yes, making dying a household concept is difficult, but I believe we should do it - at least I should do it. It feels right to me to check in about things like cremation, where he wants his remains, etc, while I still can.
Perhaps I was meant to read your articles out of their chrono-order...because after the consult and news, I'm steadily making my way through saved articles and found I'd missed this.
I appreciate how you and Mr J 'Banter' in the dark humour of it all - love in action in all it's painful reality...so I draw back to Ilona's comment 'you can't do this wrong' - Especially given this level of skilful banter'g!
I'm not turning away from any of that dark humour or talk of death - being able to express it and not bottle it has helped a LOT of carers I know, including myself. It's also helped several 'eldercarers' who don't wish their parents to die but still wish 'release' sooner rather than later given e.g. cancer or heart symptoms for them and the strain on the family...contextualising life in its mortality and pain is not an ethical/immoral act in my book, it's expressing the grief and humanity of it all....oof - guess I felt the resonance then!
I'm going to cross stitch "You can't do this wrong" on a pillow or something. Such wise words.
You may want to ask Elin Petronella to design something. It's certainly worth having a unique piece of artwork for this next year. (I'm trying to catch up on reading!)
Your piece brings up all sorts of emotions in me! Thank you for sharing your journey. ❤️
Thank you for being here to bear witness.