Journal: 04/17/06

I made it through Easter, though not without sorrow. Posting yesterdays blog entry helped me work through it. I made it to work today and that goes well. Joann’s son, David, called this afternoon and is planning to come down in a week or so to pick up some keepsakes. There are pictures here that are of Joann and her father Joe that really would mean more to David than to me. Other items might strike his fancy as well; he is certainly welcome to look around. There are enough things of hers left over, especially from the three years Joann and I were together, that I’m not concerned about "cleaning" her out of the apartment. I want to keep Joann’s essence with me as long as I can. After all, I’ll have her ashes for some time before I can complete that part of her last wishes. More information on that in the next section.

Last Wishes

I made several "last wish" commitments to Joann that I will work to keep. The main ones are as follows:

She wanted to be cremated and I managed that, though I haven’t paid the balance of the bill yet. So, donate if you can. I will get the bill paid, one way or another and bring her home. This was a two-part wish.

Joann and I discussed what to do with her ashes at some length. At different times, she wanted different things done, like being spread in the warm waters off Hawaii, or being spread over her parent’s graves in Modesto. She hated Modesto with a passion that kept her on the Monterey Peninsula for thirty years and I explained that it could be years before I ever set foot in Hawaii. In the end, she decided she wanted to be spread with me, our ashes mingling, because cremation is my wish also. She knows that I was planning on a long career of book writing or some such nonsense, and wasn’t planning to die for several decades. She wanted to wait, so I have a beautiful, hand-blown vase that she loved where she will reside until I join her. I’m not planning to have another relationship of any kind with anyone except some future cat; I would always be comparing other women to Joann. Anyway, the interest just isn’t there. I will keep this wish for her, as I’ll be too busy keeping her other wishes, as outlined next.

"Finish the damn book!" was the first on her list. I have been working to finish a book for several years and my life with Joann centered on publishing one. Not that I didn’t try, I won National Novel Writing Month four years in a row. For some reason though, after having started three books in a series, I never finished one. Joann knew that being a novelist was my passion. Too many years as a software engineer (35 to be exact) burned me out and this was my career move. Writing a novel was a concept she could understand and stood behind me with words of encouragement when I was blocked. It was her first wish that after her death, I get a book published. I will honor that wish.

"Take good care of yourself," was her second priority. She saw how I would get stressed-out by the crummy jobs, the hand-to-mouth existence, the long hours and pay only in return for rent. She knew how the stress hurt my body and saw the toll it took during rough patches. Joann took care of me by being there and understood that when I was alone I might falter. "Keep centered on the book, that’s your passion," she told me, and that is what I will do.

"Take care of Bill and Rose," was her third concern. Bill’s health isn’t the best and Rose tends to go off on tangents. They were both her great friends who helped her, and she wanted them to stay safe. Well, you can lead a horse to water, but I’ll do the best I can to keep a roof over Bill’s head, and Rose’s head out of the toilet.

"Take care of David," was always on Joann’s mind. She worried that when she passed away, her son David might get a little lost. David, as I have come to know over the last few weeks, is a stronger person than she might have given him credit for. It was a mother’s concern for her child though, and I can understand that. In the meantime, David and I have become friends, and I won’t let anything get in the way of that.

The "Book"

I don’t know what I’m going to do about the book yet. It seems to have morphed, yet again, into a different story. All the time I’ve been writing on one version of the book or another, I’ve never known the end of the story. I think now I do, and that changes things. Soon, once the wound starts to scab over a bit, I’ll start looking at all the chapters I’ve written across all three versions. I have some new ideas, and the story may have a different point of view, but it will still be the same story, Joann’s and my story.

Waiting for the Breakdown

I keep thinking that there is going to be some sort of massive emotional breakdown in the offing, but I’m having other ideas now. I haven’t felt the need to rend my clothes, throw myself on some alter, or any of those extreme grief things. I think it’s because I lived with Joann’s illness for three years and took her through home hospice. I remember when my mother died after a yearlong illness. My father, who is retired, spent every waking hour at the hospital by my mother’s side. After she passed, he seemed to say that her death was anti-climatic. It was expected and a long time in coming. Shortly after my mother died, Dad picked up his life and moved on, much to his credit.

I can see myself in much the same situation. It wasn’t just the last two months of Joann’s life that figures into this, it is the entire three years. Sure, I spend a fair amount of time being weepy, but I don’t think I’m going to be committable. I miss Joann terribly, but I knew this would be the outcome and Joann would not respect me for putting myself into a pity-party. All of her wishes for me centered on life, not depression and darkness. I just notice all the little differences, shed a tear, write about them and move on. After all, I have several wishes from her to complete.

Six Were There, Three Are Gone

In the picture below, you see the group wedding shot taken when Joann and I were married on October 27, 2004. From left to right are Bill Walker, Bill’s friend Jeanne, myself, Joann’s mother Mildred Mahan, Joann herself and Joann’s son David.

Looking at it the other day, I realized that this picture represents the "good old days," the time when we were all together, if not geographically, then at least in spirit. Joann would call her mother every night and talk for an hour or more, and Jeanne lived nearby and spent a lot of time with Bill.

Now, there are only three in that picture, the three men. Joann’s mother passed away on January 11, 2006, Joann passed away on April 6, 2006 and in January 2006; Jeanne became ill and moved in with relatives in Redding, Ca. David lives in Sacramento, Ca. but I still count him in the picture; he doesn’t have major medical problems like those that caused Jeanne to leave the Monterey Peninsula. Bill still calls Jeanne nightly though and stays in touch.

In four months, Snug Harbor reduced to two.