Nine years ago today, my husband was snatched from this earth by cancer. He was my anchor, my rock, who could always calm and cheer me during troubling times. There was no better person to share joys and triumphs with. Ordinary things, like cooking or cleaning or listening to music were better with him by my side. He loved to help me in the kitchen by chopping vegetables and prepping food for cooking. As long as he had a recipe to follow and motivation, he was a decent cook, too. He had unconditional love for me, despite all my foibles and shortcomings. Every single day, I miss him, terribly.
This photo shows the etched detail of a brass bell that belonged to my husband, Don. He rang it when he was ill from the cancer and needed something. He always preferred to call out to me, but the sound of this bell carried further — so, it came in handy if I was in the basement doing laundry, or in other far reaches of the house. I wish you were here to ring it again for me, My Love.
He had the most wonderful voice, and even worked in the radio broadcasting field for a time. Just the sound of his voice could calm me, most any time.
He took an interest in things that were important to me. Our religious beliefs were different, but harmonious, and we mutually-respected the others' choices. He admired my ability to sew my own skirts, to do things on the computer, to organize the house and keep it in order, and he loved my massages. He was also very adept at abiding my passionate outbursts about things, and often managed to keep me on an even keel.
More importantly, though, he always admired my independence, my intelligence, and my intuition. He never felt threatened by those things. For that, he was a true giant among men! We were compatible on a physical level, a mental level, an emotional level, and a spiritual level. How often does that happen?
There were many small, endearing qualities about him, too, such as how he played the "quiet rebel" by wearing the collars of his polo shirts turned-up...
The first symptoms Don had were subtle and came on slowly. He had been diagnosed as diabetic for several years, even though he was not overweight. His diabetes was successfully managed via diet and oral medication for quite some time. Then, his numbers began to change into a state where diet and oral medication were no longer working. That should have been our first clue, but thought nothing much of it. His doctor responded with a change to his medication and dosage, although no underlying cause of the situation could be determined. Months later, injectable insulin (Humalog®) was added to the regimen. Then, he began to experience steatorrhea. Other strange symptoms appeared every so often, and we began to suspect something serious, perhaps Pancreatic Cancer.
Then, one day his skin turned yellow, and I immediately recognized the appearance of jaundice and knew it was related to the biliary tract and potentially serious. My husband could not see it when looking at himself in the mirror, however, so perhaps my eyes were more sensitive to color than his. I had him lie on the bed, next to the white sheets and snapped a pic with my cellphone to show him. Upon seeing the photo, he finally relented that I might be right. It still took some additional urging from me before he finally agreed to let me drive him to the hospital to be checked out.
Tests showed that he had a blocked duct in the pancreas, which was causing the jaundice. It was keeping his own pancreas from releasing insulin and other necessary things, and we finally started getting answers. Amazingly, they were able to sedate him, pass a tube down his esophagus, and place a stent into the pancreatic duct without any incision required! I am so amazed at what doctors can do nowadays. When the stent was inserted, the doctors took a biopsy of tissue around the blockage. That bought him some time while additonal tests were performed. The diagnosis came back that it was, indeed, Pancreatic Cancer, one of the forms that is often inoperable because of the complexity of the ducts and blood vessels around the organ. This was the situation in Don's case, and he was given three months to live. The doctors' prediction was very nearly correct, and my Love passed on January 31, 2010.
When I lost you...
I lost my husband.
I lost my best friend.
I lost my lover.
I lost my play-partner.
I lost my confidant.
I lost my sounding-board.
I lost my advisor.
I lost my financial guru.
I lost my spiritual partner.
I lost my champion, my defender.
I lost that magical twinkle in your eye.
I lost my spooning-partner at night.
I lost my anchor, who kept me stable through stormy seas.
I lost the shoulder on which I could always cry.
I lost the biggest fan of my warped sense-of-humor.
I lost the one who could always make me smile.
I lost the one who made my heart skip a beat.
I lost our wonderful house that had been in your family for so long because I had to care for my parents in another state.
I lost the warm, comforting sound of your voice, which could always calm me, no matter how harried my day had been.
I lost the one who showed me what "unconditional love" really, REALLY means.
I lost the kindest, most compassionate, most understanding man I have ever met.
But I am carrying on...
somehow...
and doing the best I can.
I love you, forever, Don. ❤️
