Farewell Captain

Every so often something special happens, something extraordinary.  Most times it lasts for just a moment and if you are lucky enough, you may have had the opportunity to take part in it in some capacity, no matter how big or small.  Sometimes though, what is special grows to extraordinary over time.  What is so great about that is the opportunity to witness and be a part of this grows as well.

Over the past 20 years, something special turned into something extraordinary and is considered by many to be a legend.  I am referring to no other than Derek Jeter.  Baseball has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.  Whether it was watching games on t.v. with my father, watching him, my sister, or my brother play, or playing myself, the game took up the majority of my leisure time right up until I went to college.  So needless to say, I love and appreciate the game.  I know it and I know of the greats who have played over the years.  Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Ted Williams, Jackie Robinson... Their stories were great to listen to.  For my generation, Derek Jeter is that person.  He is that person that gave so many people the opportunity over the past 20 years to witness something legendary in the making.

Tonight will be the last time that Jeter puts on his pinstripes and steps on to Yankee Stadium.  An era is ending.  And you don't have to be a Yankee fan or even a die hard baseball fan to feel a bit sad, a bit sentimental about what that means.  I considered attending this game.  I am a baseball fan, I am a Yankee fan, and I am definitely a Derek Jeter fan.  There will be a part of me that will wish that I did go to this game, especially since I live right here in New York City, but I decided not to.

Since I knew that the end was coming, I did take my son to his first Yankee game this past June.  I bought him a Jeter jersey for his Pre-K graduation gift and took him to the game that night with my parents and John.  It was a special night and I am happy that I can tell him that he saw Derek Jeter play.    Over the years, I have seen him play many times myself and I settled for this past Sunday's game to be my last.  Although not his very last game, it was still special.  The crowd stood and cheered for him every time he was up to bat.  It was loud and heartfelt and also sombre at the same time.

When you think about this in the big scheme of things, it is just baseball.  It is just a game.  But if you look and think a bit deeper, it is something a bit more.  And even if you don't see that, isn't it just nice to find something positive and celebratory in life?.. something that so many people can take part in and share?  For me, I have memories of traveling to Toronto, Baltimore, and even NYC before living here with Dale to see Yankee games.  I was at Yankee Stadium exactly 1 month before my son was born, on Dale's birthday and watched them sweep the Red Sox.  One of Dale's best memories was going to a World Series Game in 2001.  Not only was it special because it was a World Series, but because 9/11 just happened and that added a whole different level of spirit and meaning to the game. I am happy to have these memories to share with my son, because they are happy and positive ones about his father.  And I think that it is wonderful that John was a part of this too in that he was there to take my son to his first and only Derek Jeter game.  So many memories :)... thank you Derek Jeter!

Never a Knock

I have been asked several times before if I would ever want to contact Dale through a medium.  My answer has always been no and I don't foresee ever changing my mind on that.  My reasoning, which I believe I have posted about before, is that I have worked so incredibly hard to come to the understanding and acceptance that I have now... I don't want to jeopardize that.  Having said that, I did visit a spiritualist months after Dale had past.  However, it wasn't to contact him.  I just needed something... something positive to look forward to, something to help ease my mind and to help me find a piece of comfort, no matter how small or relevant.  And it did.

I have also been asked if I have ever seen or felt any signs of his presence.  My answer to that has always been no.  I honestly haven't.  That used to frighten me a bit.  Brought up Catholic, I grew up being taught that committing suicide is losing all hope and faith in God and therefore those who did it were sent to hell.  So I tried not to think about the fact that I never really felt his presence in any way.  I didn't want to think that he was in hell.  Dale was already in his own hell here.  He was a good person. And it was/is hard for me to believe that my God would do that.  I know that Dale did lose hope.  He wanted to end the pain.  But he also wanted to be with God too.

The last time I was asked the latter question was just this past summer.  And for the first time, I didn't become troubled or worried when I answered no.  If there is indeed an afterlife (and I do believe that there is something more after what we know as life) I do not think that not feeling Dale indicates the worst.  I have feared that Dale carried anger with him and felt that towards me still.  That made it even more frightening to get a visit.  But I let that go too.I think visits are scary and I don't openly welcome them.  I have never been visited by the child I lost through miscarriage, my uncle, my grandma, or Dale.  My belief is that they are all in a good place.  I trust that.  I will see them all soon enough.  And their presence in life is enough to sustain me.  It has to be because that is all that I have.

My son often tells stories now of things that he has done with "my dad."  Sometimes they are difficult to listen to.  Sometimes I feel like I need to correct him.  Sometimes I feel like I want him to elaborate more and more because the stories sound so wonderful.  I may not welcome visits for no other reason than I don't want to feel spooked especially since I live all alone.  However, I think it would be precious if any one of these stories that my son tells came from a visit that he once had.  

What Dreams May Be

In January, I wrote about a reoccurring theme in my dreams at that time which happened to be houses.  At that time, I found that the meaning behind dreaming about houses and what was happening in my life at the time (I had just met John) seemed to coincide.  It made sense.

Fast forward to late spring.  I had never posted about these dreams.  I wish now that I had since I don't remember all of them.  My dreams were becoming more intense.  Dale was now appearing in most, if not all of these dreams that still revolved around homes, however the house itself was not the focus as it was in the past.  One that I remember was that I was moving.  Dale was somehow in my life and in this dream, I wasn't aware that he was dead as I usually am.  Dale had wanted to move with me.  It was expected by him that he would be.  I had to tell him that he couldn't.  I remember his mother being there when I told him.  I don't remember being fearful in or of this dream.  I just remember how difficult it was to tell him this and how awful it made me feel.

A second dream that I had was one in which I was living with John.  Dale was upset.  He was annoyed.  He didn't want to come into our home, but did so grudgingly because of our son.  We sat on an enclosed porch in the front of a house and that is as far as he came in.  I don't remember conversations, but this dream wasn't heated.  Dale kept it together.  It did feel awkward being with both him and John.  But that is all that I remember.

A final dream that I "remember" was one that really got to me.  At the time, I remembered more details.  But not recording them at the time has left me with none.  All that I remember was that I was screaming at Dale to leave me alone.  I wanted him out of my life.

All of these dreams occurred during the time when John and I were truly starting to build and plan a future together.  We decided we were going to move in together.  We were talking about our future together.  This was all happening around the 3rd anniversary of Dale's death, which was a difficult one... I was going through the process consciously and subconsciously of saying goodbye all over again.  And then my mind was quiet...

Until France.  Since my return I have been dreaming again.  I have had a couple of dreams where Dale was present and I was happy for him to be there.  I even think we spoke, which rarely ever happens in any of my dreams with him.  I don't remember details of these dreams either.  I did at the time and I regret not writing any of it down.  It's amazing how quickly a dream can fade.

I had a very disturbing dream last week that I do remember many details of.  In this dream Dale was dead.  He had been dead for quite some time, 2 years I think I recall.  For some reason his body was in a room, which at the time I thought was a living room, but I only recall a sofa and nothing else.  He looked himself, just still.  We (others were in the dream, but didn't recognize anyone) decided it was finally time to bury him.  When he were getting ready to take his body away, a child (not my son or any that I recognize) fell onto his chest.  It hit with such force that it jump started Dale's heart.  It was almost as if he had been frozen.  When he first woke his eyes were absent and he responded to very little.  As time progressed, so did he.  He started to awaken.  I never did get to see him fully back to himself.  But there was a point where he looked at me and I could tell that he really did see me.  This dream was one that was hard to shake.  I had been missing him very much these past few weeks and I wanted him back, back to life. 

My last dream was one that I woke to just this morning.  Dale was again in my dream and he had found us a new place to live.  He did it without neither my input or consent.  But he found a home that he was pumped about showing to me.  In the dream I was annoyed with him as he showed me this place.  I was annoyed because he didn't ask me about it, I didn't like it, and I didn't want to live with him.  John was in my head in this dream and I had wanted to live with him.  It wasn't until I woke that I thought more about this home that Dale had picked. In real life, it was one that he never would have picked out.  This home was run down and patched up.  It had many big empty rooms, but  both the floors and walls were made of a wood that looked like it had been in a fire.  It home itself didn't appear to have been in a fire, but there were pieces of wood patching holes in the walls.  The kitchen didn't really exist.  There was an oven that was in pieces.  And there was an older man working on it, trying to put it back together and to get the house/apt? ready.

When I started to miss Dale when I was in Paris, I kept thinking about all of the wonderful times and memories that we shared.  Enough time had passed so that I had really come to peace with Dale.  I accepted, I forgave, and the bad memories began to fade. That opened up room to really miss him.  This last dream that I just recalled, I think this was my wake up call.  My reminder.  Even if things had turned out differently and Dale was still here, more than likely we would not have been together as a married couple.  This home that was in my dream I think was a representation of what our relationship would have been like today.  There was a lot of damage done, but it was all patched up.  It makes me happy that it was patched up.  I wouldn't have wanted it any other way and there's a sense of peace with that too.  However, it wasn't livable.  That is not where were supposed to be and life made sure of it.  I know this, but apparently my brain thinks I need a harsh reminder of this.  I know that John is whom I am supposed to be with now.  I love him immensely and I am happy and thankful that he is in my life.  I am excited about having a present and future with him.  But that doesn't and never will change the fact that I do wish that Dale was still here, and that is something that will never change.  

You'd Think...

You'd think that by now I would have posted about my incredible trip to France and some of the awesome views that I captured.

You'd think by now I would have updated on my happy and healthy relationship with John and how things are so wonderful that it puts France in the backseat. 

You'd think by now with all of my self pep talks, insights, and feelings of peace and acceptance that I wouldn't be battling feelings that I didn't even know still existed within me.  But, I am because I do.  And it was actually Paris, France that triggered all of it. 

Prior to our vacation, I had wondered if there was a proposal planned for the romantic getaway to France.  I even started to think about the where and the when and all of that fun wedding planning stuff.  That's where my head was at.  But when we got to Paris, I just couldn't help but to think of Dale.  The city is so grand and full of history, he would have loved it.  To be honest, there isn't a day that goes by where he doesn't cross my mind.   But this was different.  I truly missed him and wished he could have been there to see all that I did.  With accepting what had happened, I really hadn't gone there or had let myself go there in a very long time.  And since I was there on my first getaway with John, it really threw me that I was having these feelings.  Four days into our trip, when we were in Nice I found out the news of Robin Williams' suicide (which I have posted about) and that only added salt to the wound. 

We returned from France the 16th of August, so it has been a month.  In that month's time, I have had some very vivid and thought pondering dreams.  Our brains are so extremely amazing.  Each time that I have woken up from one of these dreams, I can completely make sense as to why I had it. 

You'd think that with all of my conscious thinking that I wouldn't need my subconscious to battle my thoughts while I slept.  But it has, and it's not the first in recent times that it has done so. 

Affected

I was a in France when I heard the news of Robin Williams.  I read it first on Facebook and even though I was in the gorgeous French Riviera with my new love, I couldn't help but to feel saddened by his death.  Ironic that he never came to mind when I thought about my favorite actor, as he was the lead in two of my most favorite movies, Dead Poet's Society and Good Will Hunting where his role was just as inspirational and moving as the movie themselves.  However, the sadness came from feeling a connection.  A connection that I feel now when I hear of a death by suicide.  I feel an utter sadness for the person who chose to take their own life, not because I know that how that pain feels, but I have seen it.  I've started it straight in the eye and it's a horrific monster.  I also feel a connection to the people left behind as they begin their journey of grieving, healing, and understanding.

There have been quite a few suicides since Dale's that have affected me.  The first one came about a year ago when a man a few years younger than me, from my hometown took his own life.  I can't say that I knew him growing up, but I knew of him.  Our mothers worked together for some time years ago.  My cousin was close with him and his wife.  And I knew his wife when I was very young when we played on the same softball team in elementary school.  I felt for her.  I thought of reaching out.  But I felt very far removed and the best I did was to tell my cousin that if she thought her friend needed someone to reach out, I would be there.  It's hard.  For me.  Other than the safe confines of this blog, I don't speak about it often.  On a day to day basis, it doesn't come up very often anymore.  But even when it did, it was hard to speak of.  And that, makes it hard to reach out to others.

The other one hit closer to home as it happened just a few days before this past Christmas.  He was actually my dad's friend.  I knew him pretty much my whole life.  He was never married, no kids, and had no family living in town.  He became sick a few years ago, diabetes, and since this man didn't drive, my father took him as far as an hour away to his doctor's appointments.  That's how close my father was with him.  I remember I found out the very day that I arrived at my parent's house for Christmas.  I found out, not from them, but on Facebook.  I don't think they knew how to tell me because not only was it a suicide, but it was done the same way as Dale.

So I couldn't help but to be affected when my USA Today app decided to update me while in Nice, with details about Robin Williams' death.  He had hung himself with a belt.  I remember reading that message and just stopping.  My heart sank.  It sank because I didn't need to know that and I especially didn't need to be updated with that news via text message because if I had, how many countless others did as well?  That is the way Dale chose to end his life, exactly.  This is actually the first time I have ever mentioned this on my blog.  My blog of nearly three years.  My anonymous blog.  To me, the how seemed too private.  Too intimate on a whole different level.  The how shouldn't and didn't really matter, what did was the result.  So my heart sank a bit deeper and I felt even more connected with people I've never met and knew nothing about.

I've started to find and read widow's and widower's blogs lately.  I've browsed in the past, but none ever stuck with me.  Now that I have come so far on my journey, I am curious how others have journeyed through healing and into a changed life.  It's nice to find a happy ending once in a while.


--

I can't help but to leave with some of those memorable scenes from Robin Williams, may you rest in peace.

My Favorite Scence from Good Will Hunting


What Suicide Isn't... This is very well said.
http://m.blogher.com/what-suicide-isn-t-rip-robin-williams




 

Choices

I recently started to watch Breaking Bad on Netflix.  I am not going to go into elaborate details on what this show is about other than to say that the main character has lung cancer.  He's a husband and a father to a teenage boy and a daughter soon to be born.  He found out alone and had made the decision alone that he didn't want to treat it.  During the episode that I watched tonight, the family had an intervention because they want him to make the "right" choice and chose treatment. 

When it was Walter's turn to speak, he said that he had lived most of his life by choices that he hadn't made for himself.  He said that even if treatment extended his life a year or two longer, he questioned what kind of  life that would be after all of the side effects from chemo and all of the stress that it would cause his family.  He didn't want to survive off of the pill after pill he would need to take each day.  He's not curable and he's very aware of that.  So instead of prolonging his life he chose to continue to live life as it is and to avoid an "artificial" life.  

There are arguments for both sides.  However, when it's terminal... when there is just a slight sliver of a miraculous chance that you will live well beyond the few months or year extension and live so relatively normally... I feel like that's a different ballgame.  Dale used to tell me it was selfish for others to want someone to continue on when they couldn't fathom the pain they were in.  Some would say that suicide or even this man's choice to avoid treatment is selfish. 

As a person who knows what it's like to have lost, it's a horrendous place to be.  Would I have wanted Dale to choose differently?  Absolutely.  But, I do wonder if that's how Dale viewed himself at the end, terminal, and he chose to go out on his own terms.  In many ways this is different than a cancer patient, but in many ways it's very similar to anyone who has a painful, killing disease and there seems but little hope.  I'm certain that Dale did feel that he had very little control over his life at that time.  Did he grasp what he thought was the little he could control and make that choice then?  I hope that there was a moment of pure clarity, where his mind stopped racing and the demons quieted, and he was able to make his choice with a sound mind.  Just as Walter wanted to do for himself. 

I've been angered, saddened, and hurt by his decision, but I never thought of Dale as being selfish in the choice that he made. 

****

For those of us lucky enough to be living without a sickness or a disease, I think back to what Walter said about not living a life based on choices that he made (prior to getting cancer).  That's depressing.  But I am sure that is true for so many people.  Even people who feel liberated.  Or those rebelling... is choosing the opposite really choosing?  I know that I didn't always feel like I had much control over what was happening in my life.  There were many choices that I didn't make, rather I let fate/destiny/life, whatever you want to call it, make decisions for me.  It is a helpless feeling. 

There are many things that I have no control over.  I can't control my landlord and stop him from raising my rent.  But I can choose to move.  I can't control what I am asked to do at work.  But I could choose to apply elsewhere.  We can't control the choices that others make.  But we can control our reactions and decisions that we make.  That's what choices are.  But whether we consciously make them ourselves or let outside forces make them for us, we are still individually responsible for whatever that choice may be and we need to own it.  

Trains, Planes, and Automobiles

Where do you begin when you finally felt like you were ready to really start writing and posting again and then... you don't?  You start with the best excuse you can come up with.  9,500. Nine thousand five hundred, that's about how many miles I have traveled in the past 20 days.  That's an average of nearly 8 hours a day and even though I have not been traveling 8 hours a day, I assure you that if I added up the time it took to travel those amount of miles, it would equal way more than that! 

Perhaps I should have reworded the title and called it "Automobile, Train, and Planes" instead.  I definitely used all three.  My adventure began with driving my son across the state to visit grandma and grandpa.  I took a train back home from there so that I wouldn't have to drive back alone, yes alone without my son and also so that I could leave my car behind since I wouldn't be using it back in NYC.  Instead, I returned back to NYC alone so that I could fly off to France with John.  Our first getaway together... Paris and Nice!  It was awesome to say the least. 

So busy, busy and tired, tired.  But so worth it.  It was energizing in its own way.  I have much to write about and so many pictures I'd love to post and share.  This post however, is my ice-breaker.  I'm out of tune and this hopefully will help me get back in sync.  :)