Okay...life....where was I?
It's been ages.
Where has the time even gone?
So much that I don't want to forget...but as always when you've been away too long it's difficult to know when to begin.
I'm engaged. It's lovely, and amazing, and so grown up and weird! Amypants reminded me that I hadn't told this story yet, although I've shared it with some in person.
The best way to say it is I loved him the moment I met him... but that's of course not entirely true. He was German - so how could I resist the attraction, but it wasn't quite love yet. We talked all evening, it was a dinner for international students. He invited me downtown after dinner for another international event, thank goodness as I had been thinking up ways to invite *myself* all evening.
The next night was much the same, except this time I managed to get him to spend the night. It still amuses me that he can be so confident and german one moment, and so shy and insecure the next... he ran away without even one kiss the first evening we met =)
but from then on we saw each other every day it seems, I attempted to "take it slow" for a while. I had wanted to enjoy the single life for a while. Was I ready for another serious relationship already?? The day before I met him I would have told you ABSOLUTELY NOT. I would have explained that I'd done a lot of thinking about myself in relationships. A lot of thinking about what I would want or need. I would have told you I simply wasn't ready yet.
I never knew things could feel so RIGHT. I had truely, even with partners that I had really cared for, never felt so completed. It made me feel bad in a lot of ways...if I had known this feeling of completeness was possible I may have done many other things differently, and hopefully hurt less people, and been hurt less myself...
but this time I was ready. It's been amazing. I feel like I can need him, and rely on him, without loosing any of me. I don't feel like I need to keep any pieces of myself back... of course other things have helped me to be less selfish, but I have never felt this WANT to give the other person every piece of me either...
It was September when we met. Life proceeded, school in england has been mostly interesting and exciting, in July I went to Borneo which was every inch of amazing that I could have possibly wished for (photo's on the fb!) and then the day I returned he proposed. It didn't feel like "too soon" it felt like "at last!" ...this from the girl who didn't think she'd ever want to get married. I still don't want kids, I still don't want to change my name, but I want to declare this feeling I have for him. I want to share with my friends, my family, the world!
July was fantastic. July was incredible.
August and September were rough. I can't even remember the order any more. In my mind I can't think of one thing without remembering all three.
Nigel, David, Jeff.
David in many ways was the easiest, although it has affected me most directly. My step father, who I never got along with, was diagnosed and then died from cancer in just 10 months. Aged 48.
I was devestated for my mother and little sister who is only 11. But also... he was always there. I have no memories that don't involve him and my mother being together. And the tragedy of it all really hit me. I used to wonder if I would be sad when he died. Or when my parents died. The relationship with all of them has been strained to say the least. Although while I was working through myself and personal relationships I did a lot of growing in the parental relationship area as well.
It figures that when I finally work through my parent issues that's when one of them pops off...
But yeah. I had often hoped he would get sick, and that it would wake him up, realise he had to live life better, and become a better person. I had never wished anything like this on him. And it was really nothing but tragic. He did regret a lot at the end, and if he had gotten better I know he would have become that better person - he realised he had turned his daughter into a hopelessly spoiled brat... he realised he'd never taken care of himself properly...alas all too little, all too late.... And he was truely the love of my mom's life. With their stubbornness I had always thought they were pretty perfect for each other. Three days before he died they were in Baltimore together. His headache and dizziness had come back. His worst fear was that the brain tumour, which they had removed twice by this point, had grown back again. He told mom he couldn't do it, he couldn't go through brain surgury again. She told him he didn't have to. That they would go home, and cope as best they could. But the results of that last scan didn't show another brain tumour. It was his liver. His liver and about four other places. That when they got the "nothing we can do" talk.
So they flew home. The next night mom helped him in to the tub and couldn't get him back out. His brother, and my brother drove to the house to help, and mom made arrangements to move him to the terminal care home. He was there for one day. The morning he died my uncle was by his side. David woke up, asked for mom, and a while after she got there...he went. She said it was so quick. That he was there one breath and gone the next. When I got the call in the afternoon from my uncle it was too late to get that evenings flight, and so I couldn't go home until the next day.
His funeral was more sad than I could have ever imagined. It surprised me that so many people said so many nice things about him. I had never known this man they spoke of, and it made me sad. I knew he loved my sister though. That I had seen. He loved her into a monster, but he really didn't know any better. I would never say I miss him. But I'm sad he isn't there any more for my mom and sister. I'm sad he never got to be a better person. And there's a hole. A weird, not love-not hate, just David sized hole. From having someone who has always always been there...be so suddenly gone. I spent September in Bermuda with my mom. Doing all the legal stuff, of which there was SO much. She's doing better. In a lot of ways it's good that she's the one left. She's always been a fighter. I don't envy her, but I know she'll make it through. All the firsts are tough. Christmas and New Year, her birthday... but she has grandchildren, and my sister. They help her along. They fill that hole for her a little.
Then Nigel, who was taken so suddenly. Harder to come to terms with because there was no time to prepare. Nigel who I did love. Entirely. But almost never saw…
Going to another memorial, and feeling every word said to remember him with. Feeling them like they came from inside me. Even younger. So full of life. So dedicated to living. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with him being gone. Maybe in ten years? For so long the hurt has still been too fresh to even think about. The grief has been something I push away. I’ve been trying to bring it closer, wanting to deal with it. But I still don’t even know how.
And Jeff. Jeff who at last is not a sad story, but good news. My friend Jeff, a world traveller, an amazing guy, my first “adult” crush… who let me down so nicely. Who made it so we were still friends. The one responsible for introducing me to Eddie Izzard, to Coupling. He loved to sail, and more recently he loved to kite surf.
I never knew it could happen… I would never have thought of it as a dangerous sport. Until one morning there in my inbox “Did you hear about Jeff?” A mutual friend of mine asking if I’d heard about his kite surfing accident. Asking if I knew he’d been airlifted off the island. A gust of wind had caught him. It threw him into the rocks, and he shattered his pelvis, broke his arm, and had fractured his skull. Family was with him in Boston, posting updates on facebook. Still being kept in a coma. Brain pressure through the roof. Pumps and breathing tubes and drains… The need for surgery to remove pieces of his skull before they caused more damage… not being able to perform it until his pressure stabilised enough to lay him flat.
All these updates with facts. No one mentioning chances of survival. No one mentioning chances that he’d still be in there.
September in Bermuda came and went. The trip to Ontario for Nigel came and went. Jeff’s story still the same. Keeping him in coma. Skull operation went well. Keeping him in coma. Brain pressure still fluctuating. Keeping him in coma. Need to operate on his pelvis before it beings to heal. Brain pressure too unstable. Keeping him in a coma..
Then finally, brain pressure within normal ranges. We’re going to wake him up.
Unspoken - will he still be in there? How long until we know? The date of his wedding came and went… his fiancé is there by his side, has been since it happened. Then finally mid-December. He’s responding to questions! He’s been told he had an accident. He knows his name is Jeff, he knows his fiancé!
Since then each week has been a step forward. Breathing tube out! Arm cast off! Stomach tube out! A hitch - the shunts in his brain need to be left in a little longer. On to liquid food, on to mush, just recently being allowed to chew.
Finally all the tubes out. Just the neck brace left. What does he look like? Can he talk yet? So many questions you’re not allowed to ask… and yet so amazing that his family is being so good with these updates.
On January 14th we were told he’d had his first walking session - the updates had only been how long he could sit upright until now, and that was exciting. Updates about him beginning to say things followed. Volume wasn’t there, but the meaning’s were right.
February 2nd, the first photo since the accident. So thin...but other than that, Jeff!
And then the day before Valentines, his left arm is starting to move! To be so grateful for such small things… After all this. After all this time, he’s in there. He’s healing. And he knows who he is. Finally, finally, allowing myself to hope that he’ll be okay.
It's been ages.
But it feel's like ife is getting back to normal. I still feel like far too much of an adult sometimes, but it can be nice.
Where has the time even gone?
So much that I don't want to forget...but as always when you've been away too long it's difficult to know when to begin.
I'm engaged. It's lovely, and amazing, and so grown up and weird! Amypants reminded me that I hadn't told this story yet, although I've shared it with some in person.
The best way to say it is I loved him the moment I met him... but that's of course not entirely true. He was German - so how could I resist the attraction, but it wasn't quite love yet. We talked all evening, it was a dinner for international students. He invited me downtown after dinner for another international event, thank goodness as I had been thinking up ways to invite *myself* all evening.
The next night was much the same, except this time I managed to get him to spend the night. It still amuses me that he can be so confident and german one moment, and so shy and insecure the next... he ran away without even one kiss the first evening we met =)
but from then on we saw each other every day it seems, I attempted to "take it slow" for a while. I had wanted to enjoy the single life for a while. Was I ready for another serious relationship already?? The day before I met him I would have told you ABSOLUTELY NOT. I would have explained that I'd done a lot of thinking about myself in relationships. A lot of thinking about what I would want or need. I would have told you I simply wasn't ready yet.
I never knew things could feel so RIGHT. I had truely, even with partners that I had really cared for, never felt so completed. It made me feel bad in a lot of ways...if I had known this feeling of completeness was possible I may have done many other things differently, and hopefully hurt less people, and been hurt less myself...
but this time I was ready. It's been amazing. I feel like I can need him, and rely on him, without loosing any of me. I don't feel like I need to keep any pieces of myself back... of course other things have helped me to be less selfish, but I have never felt this WANT to give the other person every piece of me either...
It was September when we met. Life proceeded, school in england has been mostly interesting and exciting, in July I went to Borneo which was every inch of amazing that I could have possibly wished for (photo's on the fb!) and then the day I returned he proposed. It didn't feel like "too soon" it felt like "at last!" ...this from the girl who didn't think she'd ever want to get married. I still don't want kids, I still don't want to change my name, but I want to declare this feeling I have for him. I want to share with my friends, my family, the world!
July was fantastic. July was incredible.
August and September were rough. I can't even remember the order any more. In my mind I can't think of one thing without remembering all three.
Nigel, David, Jeff.
David in many ways was the easiest, although it has affected me most directly. My step father, who I never got along with, was diagnosed and then died from cancer in just 10 months. Aged 48.
I was devestated for my mother and little sister who is only 11. But also... he was always there. I have no memories that don't involve him and my mother being together. And the tragedy of it all really hit me. I used to wonder if I would be sad when he died. Or when my parents died. The relationship with all of them has been strained to say the least. Although while I was working through myself and personal relationships I did a lot of growing in the parental relationship area as well.
It figures that when I finally work through my parent issues that's when one of them pops off...
But yeah. I had often hoped he would get sick, and that it would wake him up, realise he had to live life better, and become a better person. I had never wished anything like this on him. And it was really nothing but tragic. He did regret a lot at the end, and if he had gotten better I know he would have become that better person - he realised he had turned his daughter into a hopelessly spoiled brat... he realised he'd never taken care of himself properly...alas all too little, all too late.... And he was truely the love of my mom's life. With their stubbornness I had always thought they were pretty perfect for each other. Three days before he died they were in Baltimore together. His headache and dizziness had come back. His worst fear was that the brain tumour, which they had removed twice by this point, had grown back again. He told mom he couldn't do it, he couldn't go through brain surgury again. She told him he didn't have to. That they would go home, and cope as best they could. But the results of that last scan didn't show another brain tumour. It was his liver. His liver and about four other places. That when they got the "nothing we can do" talk.
So they flew home. The next night mom helped him in to the tub and couldn't get him back out. His brother, and my brother drove to the house to help, and mom made arrangements to move him to the terminal care home. He was there for one day. The morning he died my uncle was by his side. David woke up, asked for mom, and a while after she got there...he went. She said it was so quick. That he was there one breath and gone the next. When I got the call in the afternoon from my uncle it was too late to get that evenings flight, and so I couldn't go home until the next day.
His funeral was more sad than I could have ever imagined. It surprised me that so many people said so many nice things about him. I had never known this man they spoke of, and it made me sad. I knew he loved my sister though. That I had seen. He loved her into a monster, but he really didn't know any better. I would never say I miss him. But I'm sad he isn't there any more for my mom and sister. I'm sad he never got to be a better person. And there's a hole. A weird, not love-not hate, just David sized hole. From having someone who has always always been there...be so suddenly gone. I spent September in Bermuda with my mom. Doing all the legal stuff, of which there was SO much. She's doing better. In a lot of ways it's good that she's the one left. She's always been a fighter. I don't envy her, but I know she'll make it through. All the firsts are tough. Christmas and New Year, her birthday... but she has grandchildren, and my sister. They help her along. They fill that hole for her a little.
Then Nigel, who was taken so suddenly. Harder to come to terms with because there was no time to prepare. Nigel who I did love. Entirely. But almost never saw…
Going to another memorial, and feeling every word said to remember him with. Feeling them like they came from inside me. Even younger. So full of life. So dedicated to living. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with him being gone. Maybe in ten years? For so long the hurt has still been too fresh to even think about. The grief has been something I push away. I’ve been trying to bring it closer, wanting to deal with it. But I still don’t even know how.
And Jeff. Jeff who at last is not a sad story, but good news. My friend Jeff, a world traveller, an amazing guy, my first “adult” crush… who let me down so nicely. Who made it so we were still friends. The one responsible for introducing me to Eddie Izzard, to Coupling. He loved to sail, and more recently he loved to kite surf.
I never knew it could happen… I would never have thought of it as a dangerous sport. Until one morning there in my inbox “Did you hear about Jeff?” A mutual friend of mine asking if I’d heard about his kite surfing accident. Asking if I knew he’d been airlifted off the island. A gust of wind had caught him. It threw him into the rocks, and he shattered his pelvis, broke his arm, and had fractured his skull. Family was with him in Boston, posting updates on facebook. Still being kept in a coma. Brain pressure through the roof. Pumps and breathing tubes and drains… The need for surgery to remove pieces of his skull before they caused more damage… not being able to perform it until his pressure stabilised enough to lay him flat.
All these updates with facts. No one mentioning chances of survival. No one mentioning chances that he’d still be in there.
September in Bermuda came and went. The trip to Ontario for Nigel came and went. Jeff’s story still the same. Keeping him in coma. Skull operation went well. Keeping him in coma. Brain pressure still fluctuating. Keeping him in coma. Need to operate on his pelvis before it beings to heal. Brain pressure too unstable. Keeping him in a coma..
Then finally, brain pressure within normal ranges. We’re going to wake him up.
Unspoken - will he still be in there? How long until we know? The date of his wedding came and went… his fiancé is there by his side, has been since it happened. Then finally mid-December. He’s responding to questions! He’s been told he had an accident. He knows his name is Jeff, he knows his fiancé!
Since then each week has been a step forward. Breathing tube out! Arm cast off! Stomach tube out! A hitch - the shunts in his brain need to be left in a little longer. On to liquid food, on to mush, just recently being allowed to chew.
Finally all the tubes out. Just the neck brace left. What does he look like? Can he talk yet? So many questions you’re not allowed to ask… and yet so amazing that his family is being so good with these updates.
On January 14th we were told he’d had his first walking session - the updates had only been how long he could sit upright until now, and that was exciting. Updates about him beginning to say things followed. Volume wasn’t there, but the meaning’s were right.
February 2nd, the first photo since the accident. So thin...but other than that, Jeff!
And then the day before Valentines, his left arm is starting to move! To be so grateful for such small things… After all this. After all this time, he’s in there. He’s healing. And he knows who he is. Finally, finally, allowing myself to hope that he’ll be okay.
It's been ages.
But it feel's like ife is getting back to normal. I still feel like far too much of an adult sometimes, but it can be nice.