Category: Stay at home dad

What do you see?

theycallmebetty3 Comments

What do you see when you look at me?

It’s ok, go ahead, I’m sure I have heard it all either to my face or behind my back.

What do you see???

A 54 year old man that some would argue is well past his prime? Kind when he wants to be or grumpy, selfish and maybe a bit of an asshole?

What do you see when you look into my eyes?

Green coloring, dullness and exhaustion. Anger, exasperation, or disdain?

Blank, kind or idiocy?

How do you judge me as I walk your way?

Cocky, still strong, or broken and gimpy?

Or do I seem just stiff and slow?

Who are you?

Are you a perfect human being?

Who are you to judge me at all?

Who are you to say anything about my life, how it’s lived or how I may appear.

Are you that much better at life than I?

Have you taken a moment to see life through my eyes? To understand before touting your opinion for all to hear?

Have you walked a mile in my shoes?

I am a 54 year old man this is true.

54 long hard years that I will never let define me but years none the less that definitely explain a little about who I am.

You may say I am old, you may see me as past my prime yet I say nay. With age comes wisdom, life lessons and most importantly; perspective.

Looking into my tired crows feet encased eyes.

The green in my eyes used to shine quite brightly. Fed by the devil inside and a need for constant mischief they are now mellowed, tempered, colder, and see things, habits, and people much, much clearer. They still gleam now and again with the sparkle of a child or with the heat of desire, but do not take their stony gaze for granted as they are still sharp and alive.

When I walk toward you I will always greet you with open arms and a smile. I will take you in as one of my own and if you are willing to listen regale you with wisdom from years gone by. It’s just my way.

I may look stiff and slow, and in some ways I truly am. Injuries from years past haven taken its toll on my slowly aging body. A life or death surgery, replacing my aorta with a synthetic tube. The loss of a gallbladder along with a few broken bones, torn muscles, shattered shoulders, knees, burns and scars. Calculating movements brought about by years of being trampled and shit on both physically and emotionally.

I carry with me the weight of so many deaths, families broken, spouses, children, teenagers, mothers, fathers, brothers/sisters, grandparents and friends. Lives snuffed from this earth, witnessed during my long and eventful career in the fire service.

Two wives, women I loved who were my life. Their lives taken way to soon, leaving behind hurting children and families, nothing modern medicine could do to save them. A void left behind that sits like a black mark on my brain. Yet each day I put both feet on the floor and take that all important step forward, trying hard to never be weighed down by life, experiences and the injustices it may bring.

How could you know?

How could you know as you judge me that I believe life is always best lived. That I know better than most our days are numbered and we should live, love and laugh every second of every moment of every day.

How could you know from your platform of judgment, I believe we do this gift of life a serious injustice by neglecting to do just that.

How could you know that after all I have been through and seen, I still carry enough love in my heart for more. Much, much more.

More love for my children, more love for my true friends, more love for new friends, more love and adoration for someone very special in my life, who I choose to love wholeheartedly. A woman who deserves every single bit of the love I have to share.

These people I love are my kingdom and I would fight to the death to protect each and every one of them.

How could you know that I am always looking to share.

Share my knowledge, share my charity, share my emotions, share my passions, share my fears, share my laughter, share a hug.

What do you see when you look at me?

Look hard.

It’s ok.

For someday I will be gone.

I won’t be sad.

I will die like so many before me.

It is the nature of the game.

But I will do so on my terms, with a smile on my face, and those I have loved so, will know they were loved in return.

I will no longer be here to care what you see.

And no matter what you see or your opinion, I will have been filled with more life and love than any one man rightly deserves.

That my friends is a life well lived.

So what do you see?

Better yet, what do you see in yourself?

It’s important for you to know.

26 years gone.. a life/career in the fire service.

theycallmebetty4 Comments

A man once told me with pronounced reverence; make the most of every moment because in the blink of an eye 30 years will be gone and so your career will be as well.

That man was my very first fire chief.

During our Academy graduation in April (or so I vaguely recall) of 1995 our Chief stood before us expounding upon the virtues of becoming what could arguably be the most trusted citizen within our society today.

The firefighter.

We were all proud. Very proud, as if superman’s cape had been bestowed upon us that night and instantaneously we began to carry the troubles surrounding our little world.

Those words of wisdom and others from our chief flowed through us that night. Piled upon the months of training, fire attack equations and medical terminology/practices our newly formed brains were ready for work. We sat in awe as one after another stood and were gifted if only temporarily the prominence associated with our glistening new probationary badges.

My journey, our journeys had only just begun.

Our academy class was a newly formed family. Brothers and sisters in arms, who without hesitation had each other’s backs. We came from everywhere but after four months we were one. Being probationary firefighters we became accustomed to lifting each other up and forming a wall for those who cast shadow upon our existence.  

18 months of trials, tribulations and growth, always growth.

Some of our family would stay, some would go, some would rise to the challenge, and some would fall from grace. After 18 months a smaller group stood tall as our silver dollar sized probationary badges were gleefully replaced by gleaming full sized firefighter’s badges. The honor immense, the ensuing challenges limited by our own imaginations, the future uncertain.

We were young, cocksure, and beside ourselves.

We were firefighters.

I recollect this moment in time today because my personal time in the fire service has come to an end.

Oh not of my own doing mind you.

But the human body can only handle so many stressors before it holds the amazing ability to take oneself offline.  

When I embarked upon this journey my outer shield was thick, strong, like blinders to the plow I could only see directly ahead. A forward motion was all I deemed necessary and nothing would place a chink in my armor.

26 years later I sit before this computer, writing, trying my hardest to forge a new resolve, acquire a sense of purpose, and accept a new vision with gratitude and fervor.

My armor is gone, my cape pilfered from the confines of my locker, passed on to another as if never having been slung upon these now tired, older shoulders.

“Make the most of every moment because in the blink of an eye 30 years will be gone and so your career will be as well.”

I hear it, over and over again…..

I never achieved all that I had wished for. I never was able to get my feet firmly on the ground as the ground continually moved out from under those feet. My mind sees the faces of a thousand souls and hears the cries of a thousand more. The world that we know is not for what we believe. Only a firefighter, police officer or EMS provider knows what that means.

26 years later the chinks in my armor became cracks, the cracks began breaching the inner sanctum eventually rupturing, leaving me no choice but to silently slip into darkness/obscurity.

The time has come for me to pack my bags and go.

Always a man who worked extra hard at separating my off duty life from my on duty life it never dawned on me just how deep my on duty life truly ran.

Never the guy to place anything but an IAFF (International Association of Fire Fighters) sticker on my car, I thought I had done an astounding job of keeping my cape safely at work, stored neatly in its locker. No off duty shirts, no custom license plate telling the whole world what I did to support my family. Not because I wasn’t proud of my occupation mind you but because I always felt in the end, when it was over whether by design or divine intervention. My path would be easier, my inner self pleased, not agitated or disheartened upon departure.

Yet here we are……

On April 1, 2021 I will no longer cease to be a person who has garnered the public’s trust through years of honest deed. I will no longer be a part of a crew, a family of brothers and sisters that reach our hands out in a time of need. I will no longer be a part of the banter and shenanigans that follow a firefighter’s career. Some of the very best times I have ever known were within those four walls.  For you will know no joy like that of a firehouse bursting with laughter. I will no longer be able to mentor the young, feel the adrenaline associated with our profession or quite simply relish in the 2 am silence that follows between calls in a busy firehouse. I will miss the look in a child’s eye when we step off our engine, capes on, ready for battle; the “thank you’s” that follow a job well done and the pride that comes from working with such outstanding human beings. I will miss every moment, every second, and wallow in a strange pride filled sadness each time my fire engine goes by without me. My job was more to me than I ever gave it credit for becoming.

Because of the circumstances surrounding my health and recovery I have already hung up my helmet, folded my last uniform shirt, emptied my strike team bag and neatly pressed my Class A uniform for storage.

I watched with great sadness as my cape was quietly taken away.

I am alive.

I hear that a lot. From friends, from acquaintances, from people who have just recently learned of my story.

I am alive, yes I am.

I always knew this time would come. I always felt it would be at my request, upon finishing what I chose to achieve. But you see that is the thing about life and about unknowingly carrying the weight of so many with no regards to recognizing the weight burdened within you.

It takes a toll.

That toll becomes heavy, and after a while unnoticeable. You become a good almost gifted actor.

Trust me the toll is there, lurking, waiting for the right moment to rise from the ashes of what was, what is and creating what will forever be.

In my particular case I paid with my heart.

One bodily function we truly need to keep us alive. I paid, as many others have paid, some never coming home again to the ones who they so adore and for that I am thankful to be right here, right now.

My problems are now my own; I wake up each day and wonder what’s next? Where do I go from here? What should I be looking forward too?

Upon my final day I am not sure how I will feel. I am hoping excited, filled with optimism, able to accept congratulations from those I cherish. I am hoping it feels just as I had dreamed; as if one door is closing and another is opening.

There are definitely new limitations to my existence. Going from a strong, gung-ho type A fellow to what I am now has been difficult. But not intolerable..

26 years…… Twenty Sixxxx, hmmmm

With my hand placed over my much louder, sometimes irregular beating heart, taking a moment to judge its steady rate, I devour my morning medications to keep it doing just that, running steady and I think……

I think….I may need to find a new cape……..

Dually..

theycallmebetty13 Comments

My son brought him home one day while I was at work. Which coincidentally seemed to be where I was during most large events or life changes that revolved around our family.

He was black and tan, no bigger than a handful, full of energy and completely against what I thought my son was worthy of at the time. His name was Dually. He was a kelpie mix, a mistake from a breeding that shouldn’t have happened. He was cute as hell, full of energy and I wanted nothing to do with him.

You see Jake already had a dog. Jack. Jack came to us in a similar fashion (as in I was at work and had no say). After a year or so, Jack just kind of fell off the boy’s radar and Jack more or less became my dog. Now here we were again, a puppy, the dog of his dreams and I just knew with a stubborn, stingy old man heart that I would be taking care of another damn dog in a year. Cynical yes, but with cynicism comes truth. Little did I know how right and wrong I would be all at the same time.

Dually turned out to be smart as hell! You could teach him anything with only a few tries or corrections. He not only got it, but he never forgot it. The two of them (Jake and Dually) were inseparable. Where ever Jake was Dually was not far behind. He learned to work cattle quickly and went to every roping with jake, happily riding shot gun or inside the trailer. At rodeo’s if I was looking for my son, I’d just walk down the alleyways belting out his recall whistle. My son to this day has no idea how many times that dog narc’d him and his buddies out! One time after not getting an answer on Jakes phone and realizing the locater had been turned off, I whistled down an alleyway to see Dually’s little head pop out from under a stock trailer. Walking over quietly I peered into the trailer to see him and all his friends huddled around a heater, telling lies and laughing. Now I am no moron, of course they were hiding and drinking beer, but all I could think of was it could be much worse. When I was his age, it definitely was, so I simply chalked it up to memories they would never forget and kept a close watch.

Jake went off to college the next year. He came back a few weekends here and there but over time the trips became fewer and fewer. Dually was depressed, moping around the house and ranch. I had grown to really like him a lot. It was such a hard year, Jacy was dying, and the house was inundated with people all the time. The pressure to be everything to everyone was mounting and most days I felt as though I was going to explode. Even with writing this blog, detailing every experience, I was pushing down so much hard emotion. Days were long and the nights were longer. I always tried my best to put on a good face or when called out for my appearance proclaimed I was simply tired. Truth; I was alone inside.

One day I loaded dually up and took him to the beach. He was so happy! He ran and played, we hiked and it was then I knew, my son was losing his dog.

Dually slept on the bed next to me, he got baths, his teeth brushed, treats and lots of exercise. He went with me everywhere, and I mean everywhere. To quote the world famous Forrest Gump; we were like peas and carrots!! Ha ha!

The coolest thing about this dog and believe me there were many really cool things about this dog was his ability to sense things. I had sleep apnea at the time. If I had a night where I quit breathing. Dually would jump on my chest and wake me! He would then stand over me until I recognized him, kiss me once on the face, go to the foot of the bed, curl up and go back to sleep. At first I didn’t know what he was doing. I put it together after realizing the only times he did it, I had a severe headache when he woke me up. A sign I had been oxygen deprived for some time. He was my very special friend.

Even though it was him and I all the time, when Jake came home he never flinched in covering that boy with love. His faithfulness never wavered. Jake would always be “his” boy. It was amazing.

Sitting on the park bench I kept staring at the picture of my dog lying still on the pavement with the caption; He dead. At first I thought he was joking, that dually was actually sleeping out front in some weird contorted body position. I knew the truth by staring at the pic, but couldn’t grasp it. I called Parker and when I finally reached him through his choking tear filled pleas, Parker proclaimed it wasn’t a joke. Dually was dead.

Somehow that morning, Dually had escaped from the backyard. Parker realized he was gone and found him out in front of the house. Before he could get to him, while rounding the corner some asshole in a green Chevy truck hit my dog, full force, and dead center running him over with both the front and back of the truck. I know this because Parker saw him do it, saw the truck bounce into the air and the bastard never let off the gas.

Parker watched him die out in the middle of the street. Parker pulled him from the street, dragging Dually to our front porch. Covered in Duallys blood he tried calling me several times, because he didn’t know what to do. Where was I? Helping, always helping, doing my job, not home with my family where I should have been. Not able to answer the emergency call from my panicked, scared and heartbroken 14 year old son who had just seen something he shouldn’t have seen and was believing it was his fault. Yeah at work we stopped the structure fire that morning, we saved the house; we did our jobs. Here I was miles away and had just lost the one thing that had saved me, saved Jake from going crazy as we watched my wife, his mother die over the last several years. Who was going to save us now..

So I sat and cried.

A police officer came over and asked if I was ok. Was there anything he could do to help? I told him no, there wasn’t, I had just gotten word my dog was killed. He looked at me the way most would. With kindness and understanding, but also with that look. You know the “it’s just a dog” look. How could he know, how would he have known what this dog had done for me, for our family and now like everything else in my life that I grew to love he was dead, gone forever! Is this my destiny? I get it, he is a dog, but fuck! Is everything I love supposed to die? I am I not supposed to love anything at all? Am I fucking jinxed?? I mean whats next? This woman I am seeing; is being with me a death sentence for her as well??? Jesus H FUCKING Christ!!!!!!!!

I spent several minutes on that bench, trying to process, fighting the fight or flight urge to get out of there, wondering how I could escape. Then like I have done so many times before, I swallowed hard, stood up, and shook it off pushing every emotion I had down as hard as I could so as to not show weakness. I walked over to rehab, grabbed up my crew and we went back inside for overhaul relief.

Coming home I pulled up front. There he was, my best friend, my partner in crime, lying there on the concrete. He was still, stiff, and flies were making there way around his crushed skull and missing teeth. There was blood in the street, blood on the concrete. I cried so damn hard. It was painful. I didn’t know what to do. Parker and I hugged, I told him it wasn’t his fault and we would all be fine. I called Jake, I don’t remember that conversation and I am glad I don’t. When I think about that call all I feel is pain. Lots and lots of pain. That dog had saved him right in the middle of his mother dying. Dually was a gift from his mother against my wishes. I would find out much later it was because she simply wanted him to be loved unconditionally after she was gone. Pain, lots of pain.

I took the backhoe and dug a hole for him by his roping horse buddy Twoey. We had lost Twoey to a freak accident earlier the year before. I spent an hour carefully digging that hole. Something that probably should have taken only twenty minutes. It was clean, perfectly shaped and just the right depth. I laid him gently in the bottom of it and something strange happened to me.

Laying down next him inside that hole, I thanked him for everything he did for myself and Jake, I cried some more. He should have been off to the side watching me dig like always. He wasn’t supposed to be dead! It took me twenty years to love another dog after the death of Bear my first dog. Dually was it! What the fuck! I don’t know how long I was down there, but I heard a soft sweet voice coming from the edge. It was Lyn’s, my girlfriend. She came over right after work, she knew I was in a bad place.

Calmly, quietly she reached out her hand for me to come out of the hole. I told her I couldn’t, I couldn’t leave him, he never left my side and I wasn’t there for him when he needed me. Gently she reached out again, took my hand and asked; what can I do?

I came out of the hole. Hugged her, sobbed on her shoulder, crying like a child. I just couldn’t do it, there is no way I can do it, I mumbled over and over again. Lyn’s asked me what it was I couldn’t do.

Bury him. I just can’t put the dirt on top of him, I just can’t say goodbye. Especially like that, as if he was nothing.

Lynnsie grabbed my face, looked me right in the eye and said something I will never forget.

Maybe his time here was done. He came and did what he was meant to do. He cared for you and Jake, he brought you both exactly what you needed and now it’s time for him to go. Now go be the man I know you to be and finish what you started. He’ll always be with you.

The first bucket load was hard, the second a little less so, and before long I was grading the finish.

I sat for a while, looking over the pond with him. Feeling lonelier than ever. Wondering how one human being could hate another human being that he had never met more. Hatred is a powerful thing. Even now, writing this, I have no forgiveness for the fucker who took my friend from me.

I thought a lot about Dually in the days before finding myself lying in a cold hallway awaiting my turn. Wondering if someone would play Van Halen for me once we were inside.  If this went wrong, would I see him again, would I see everyone or anyone at all? Would I wake up and be even more heartbroken. I had my family, I had my closest friends and now I had Lyn’s, but I didn’t have my four legged buddy who could brighten up the roughest of days with nothing more than his presence. It was selfish but it was sadness drawn from love.

April 25, 2019 a mere five days later.

It all begins….

2019- Isn’t this supposed to be my year?

theycallmebetty7 Comments

2019 and life, (as it is supposed too) has moved on. In retrospect, oddly enough it seems that I am the first in our area to begin social distancing, long before it became popular due to COVID-19!

Facebook for the most part is in my rear view mirror, and I have written my Final Curtain Call on Betty’s blog. Instagram, twitter and such have been shut down as well. My life has become about something it hadn’t been for many years. About me.

A very special person has entered my life as well. This came as a shock too many, but truth be told I had been alone for a very long time. The person I started seeing our family had known for many, many years. This was a benefit for me as I never felt the need to explain anything in regards to emotions felt or struggles had during this time. Good days, she understood, bad days she understood more, and at the end of the day I had someone neutral to confide in with no judgement.

Some friends disappeared, which was fine, I valued the time we had together and understood their choice to no longer be a part of my life. Some who I thought were friends tried to ruin my reputation, which I will never understand. Things were said that blew my mind, lies were told and all the small town horror stories you hear and think could; “never happen in my town”, did.

As my friend, I have your back through thick and thin, which means I will always choose you, support you, and be there for you regardless of whether I agree with you or not. Only you can ruin that relationship. Of course other friends showed their true colors by never once wavering, having my back, standing up for me, and understanding that life is meant to be lived, not submerged in misery, ghosts of the past and constant sorrow. Believe me there was easily enough sorrow over the past several years (not including my job) to drown even the most resilient.

Nose above the water line we moved forward.

April 17th was important to me when chronologically moving forward because I guess it was the day everything began. We didn’t know it at the time, but looking back, it was the nexus or center of me finding out there are no passes given for good behavior, for surviving even the roughest of struggles, that God is never done teaching you to overcome life’s hardships.  A moment in time reminding you that you are never in control, ever! Also, a reminder that no matter what happens in your life it will always be your responsibility to handle these stressors with dignity and strength. Fact is it was quite the opposite for me, it was in fact the beginning of me no longer handling hardship well, being the one in our family that every one could rely upon. No grace, no dignity, no plan, no strength. I had been Knick named Iron man on several occasions by a few close friends and family. It was of course, for me a flattering joke.

It was the end of that persona.

It started simply enough by doing nothing more than tearing out a moldy, rotten floor from the side room off the garage.

We (My girlfriend and I) tore right in early one morning to the sagging, rotting floor of my old fishing room. After ripping out the first floor board we realized we needed to begin digging deeper, for every single board from that point on showed us that more of the floor needed to go. By the end of the morning we had ripped out 80% of the floor complete with all the floor joists. It wasn’t looking good at all. This project that appeared simple and more repair like than complete overhaul was rapidly showing us the building was filled with deep, black, moldy rot. Once all the dirt and dust settled we stared at it for a bit and decided to call it a day.

2 days later I began to cough..

April 20th, 2019

A few minutes before getting off work we break a structure fire. Rolling out of the apparatus bay it is quickly evident by the large column of black smoke coming from the general area dispatched we had in fact a “worker”. Two minutes later we are turning a corner and staring right at the building. It’s rolling. Heavy black smoke pouring from the eves, roof, the windows to the rear of the structure and everything in between. We are going to work.

My crew and I force entry to the front door, we break right and begin a search of the building as cars are parked out front and no one has seen the landowner. Quickly through our search and with a thermal imager we realize this house is under renovation. We still complete our search to be thorough and begin pulling ceiling to determine where the fire is in the attic space. The secondary line is manned at the front door and an additional attack line is battling the fire from the B/C side of the structure. Between them knocking down the fire, taking away the heat and us locating/extinguishing fire in an attic space the red devil is once again smothered. Fire kept to the structure, no impingement of neighbor’s homes, no loss of life, another great job by our amazing crews.  

Coming out of the structure for our first bottle change we are all feeling really good.

Realizing the kids were expecting me home, I turn over my area of responsibility to an auto-aid crew from a neighboring city. My crew and I are in rehab and stripped down to cool down. I grab a water and walk over to the engine retrieving my phone so I can let the kids know I am ok and just running a little late.

Turning my phone on, the screen has blown up with over 10 missed calls and four or five texts! My 14 year old son has sent them all.  Staring at the screen I am thinking to myself, holy shit kid it’s not the first time dad has been held over for an emergency, what the hell!

My opinion quickly changes upon opening the first text. Walking across the street to a bench and away from where anyone can see me. I begin to cry. Life has punched me in the gut once again.

And so it begins…

theycallmebetty43 Comments

One year ago I walked…

No.

One year ago I ran screaming away, as though I was a man literally on fire! What was I running away from?

This blog…

It wasn’t easy setting my emotional self on fire. But I did.

Yet it is in those moments where you as a human being know exactly what is best for you, you find yourself. Those moments helping nourish your soul, your mind, while giving you the necessary space to expand your future horizons.

I swore I wouldn’t be back. I swore I would start a new blog, under a new alias, eventually creating new material for all three of my readers to enjoy from what I always imagined was a big comfy, easy chair. Yet, I didn’t come back, I stayed away, far away, in a place where the world couldn’t touch me, hurt me, crush my independence. Where supposed friends couldn’t turn their friendship into something owed, or try ruining my reputation by spreading falsehoods and hearsay. In a place where I could rebuild myself and no one needed to know. A mental place that kept no record of time, or love, or friendship, or family, or well loss. Yeah, I would never face the written word of loss again, or feel the need to share, hoping to help others. A place that left a portion of my mind blank. It felt very safe there in the dark. I couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see you. Like when you were a little kid, burying yourself under the covers at night because it felt warm and safe. The best part? You couldn’t see me either. Only close family and friends mattered because I could feel them, know they were there, and hold them close. I didn’t need to see them in this dark, blank world I had created to know they cared.

That was wrong.

Many things have happened over the last year, both good and bad, amazing and scary, to which I will delve later. But suffice it to say, my brain is, or has been struggling. The very same weight I claimed to toss (cavalierly I might add) from my shoulders just one year ago was replaced by a new, heavier, weight! Succumbing to its enormous pressure I felt choked, smothered, and dull inside. I was mentally dying..

The answer was right there all along, under my nose, sitting covered in dust (my laptop) on my unused desk; I needed to write.

Not only do I need to write, but I want to write! I still felt the need to share, to let those who jumped onto this journey we call life know they are not alone! We all struggle and succeed in life and we need to do it together! We need to share these journeys and laugh! To revel in the absurdity while expressing our own similarities and differences.

The trouble for me was twofold.

To start

To start under the same blog.

After much thought, I have come to the conclusion/realization that Betty is just who I am.

Betty was born from a necessity, evolved and ultimately became me, or I became her? Not sure, maybe there is a “they” in there somewhere! Fuck! Sorry, I digress.. The reason I am back or coming back, or thinking of coming back is because I missed her, him or “they”! Whatever, you get the point, either way once again, I am hoping all three of my readers are still there, still interested.

So here goes! Bring it! I want to hear from the three of you, and don’t leave me hanging!!

THE END OR THE BEGINNING?

Last year I walked away looking for peace, new horizons, knowing deep in my heart after the struggles of the year before nothing, and I mean nothing could ever hurt me again. (If you’re confused, its ok, just scroll back to all posts from 2013-2018. You’ll catch up) Oh there were also the depressing ponderings of memories churned up from the year 2001 as well but hey! Who is counting right?

Yep I had hit the ceiling, dropped the trifecta and survived! First wife passed away, father dropped dead in the driveway of our property and then, second wife passes away. Oh there were other little family tragedies in between as well, but we as a collective whole trudged through.

I was looking at life, at the prospect of the next few years thinking, no, knowing nothing bad could ever happen to myself or my family again! We were safe, we bore the brunt of loss and survived!

It felt as though we had done a good deed for god, or the mafia, not sure which is better at this point but damn it! I knew we were in the good graces of some higher power! Whether it was god or Tony Soprano I really didn’t care. The way I saw it we were kissing some feet or a ring and either way we were getting the nod! This of course meant in the struggle department I was untouchable.

June 28, 2018

Lying in a cold hallway, staring upwards at the tile ceiling I am waiting my turn. There are four of us here. All dressed the same, in our one piece, easily removable, light blue gowns. Our hair covered in netting, our skin growing colder from the low temperature.

My mind is racing. Racing at a hundred miles an hour. What the holy fucking hell had I done in this life to lead to all of this! For the past month I have cried, and cried a lot. I have pushed people away, while holding others close who refuse to give up on me! Truth be told, I want you to hate me! I NEED you to hate me! I want you to go away! I don’t want you in my life, because if you as a person are not in my life you cannot be hurt when this is over!

What did I do God? I keep asking that. I did everything you have asked of me. I came to church when I didn’t want to, I changed the way I was living from reckless and absurd, to organized, caring and with charity. I traveled across the globe to administer to the less fortunate, to rebuild, to love and care for those I never knew. I dedicated my life to public service with great pride. I wrote about it and shared, all of it! Making me nervous and scared because I really don’t like putting myself out there that far. That is how you get hurt. I even let someone else in, close very close and she is in the waiting room with two of my three best friends, terrified, scared and she chose to be there when others would have, no, should have run! I did all those things God and what have I received for my efforts?

What?

Two wives dead, my dad gone, my dog killed. My two favorite horse’s dead, a struggle to keep this ranch going, shattered relationships and a fire career that feels tattered and destroyed. A new human being let into my inner circle who is scared to lose me so soon, which leaves her suffering because of me! My closest friends scared once again. Four children that don’t know what if any future may hold and feel so lost after five years of this continuous BULLSHIT!

Yet here we are….

A bulky man comes down the hallway and leans over me with a smile telling me its time. He grabs the gurney, and with a smooth calm voice reminds me it will be alright. As he is pushes me through the double doors the spot lights from above illuminate the white room, I ask if he could please play some Van Halen for me. He chuckles and asks; are you a Van Halen or Van Hagar fan? Van Hagar of course, is my reply! The needle is inserted, my hands are tied behind my back, I am asked to take a deep breath and count to twenty. He laughs and says, me too! I drift off with a smile because I have found a new kindred spirit.

My world has once again turned deathly black…

Choices

theycallmebetty5 Comments

You know the funny thing about being a living breathing human being?

You and you alone have a choice. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, believe it or not you have a choice in everything you do, say, the way you react or don’t react to life.

Choice is powerful, we have the freedom of choice and how we wield that choice. I am thankful for that because it means as a human being I am allowed to choose which direction I go in any situation, including the precarious emotional moments I am currently living.

Right now, I have chosen sadness as my course. You heard me right, I have chosen to allow sadness into my life. To not meet the male dominated pre-requisite that we all understand to be a norm but is instead a gigantic falsehood of life; and that is to swallow it down, hiding from the sting of losing quite possibly the one person on this earth who will ever love me for who I am, who I was and who she always thought I could become. That statement alone as its read, and I recall all the times she looked me in the eyes, told me she loved me or was proud of who I had become, creates a surge of sadness that forms deep in my chest and moves like a wave towards my outer being. Who will do that? Who will be proud of me? Who will I champion for in the future, who has my back and loves me unconditionally? Who? And don’t say my children because;

1-that’s a given and

2-that is not what I am referencing here. It’s about the relationship built between you and your spouse..

My son texted me the other day, he wanted to know what I was doing, how I was feeling and our texting conversation ended with; I am feeling down. When prompted as to what was happening he replied; I just need to talk to mom. I replied: is there anything I can do? His response: No I just want to talk to mom about shit….. (in his vernacular “shit” means life)

Yeah; let that sit for a moment. Pardon my bluntness but you’re an asshole if that doesn’t tear you up inside just a little. Anyone who was close to their mom and has lost that person knows exactly how my son is feeling. Sad, alone, the boy inside of him simply needed his mommy. To hear her voice, to laugh together at stupid stuff, to hear I love you son at the end of the conversation. Fuck you Leukemia, fuck you GvHD, I hate you all to hell!

But even though those moments come and go, and even though each day that void widens I choose to keep going, to move forward, and to act in a manner that is respectful to both myself and my family. To set an example for our children. Our lives still need to be lived, there is so much out there to accomplish when it comes to our lives and the lives of others. We still have a choice.

Jacy has none of those choices. She didn’t choose this as her destiny. She can no longer choose an alternate outcome or make decisions based upon her feelings. She can no longer do anything from the confines of the handmade box sitting behind me on the table with her picture hovering over the top.

On the flip side though, Jacy did choose as a living, breathing human being exactly how she would exit this earth. She made it very clear what her expectations where and how we as the ones she loved and cherished most would handle that task. She did not want to go, even though her faith was strong, she wasn’t ready, she screamed she wasn’t ready, she felt as though there was so much left for her to do! In the end she was mad at God for stripping her of her family, something she had always wanted, but knew it was time and was welcoming the thought of heaven.

I am trying my hardest to honor her requests, and I will continue to do so until my very last breath. Why? Because I loved her unconditionally the same way she loved me. Because I made a promise to her 17 years ago, 5 years ago and two months ago! I always keep my promises. She was the center of my universe and even though she is gone I will cherish every single moment we spent together in memory over all those years.

I have no doubt as time rolls forward, our lives will change, priorities will change, and the look of our family will change. But her name, her memory and what she hoped for will not change as I will carry that forward with her in my heart and right by my side in spirit. It was and is my choice.

So what exactly is my point?

When the time comes and darkness hits your family, who are you going to become?  There is no reason to face it alone, because you don’t have too. As I have stated many times over the last five years, I started sharing our story because I didn’t want other spouses, partners or family members to feel alone. Like it was them against the world. I really wanted them to have a voice, a place to speak out, to read, understand and reach forward to someone such as myself who was open and accepting while painfully walking that walk.

Now our journey has ended and I am beginning a new journey forward, as one instead of two. It is scary as hell, I am worried for the future of this family, and the one person who understood me is no longer here to help guide me. But I am not alone.

You don’t ever need to be alone either! You know why?

Because you have a choice.

Sorrow is a bird…

theycallmebetty6 Comments

Let me preface today’s writings with a statement: I promised my wife I would keep writing, telling the truth and never masking it or watering it down for the sake of others and that if our story and struggle could help just one person understand they are not alone then we have done our job. Well the “we” has turned to me. Just me and it is daunting to be a me, not a we. So please share/like/subscribe to this blog share our story with everyone you know, because if many can be reached, then maybe the “me” can become a “we” again.

“Sorrow is a bird that sits in the rain. Hunkered down on a branch you see it from the comfort of your window. You think; how sad, that bird is cold and rain soaked beyond its feathers there must be something I can do. But there is nothing you can do, for you cannot help the bird because the bird knows what its up against and understands it must deal with what life has thrown it’s way. There is nothing you can say, for doing so may cause it to panic, flying deeper into the storm, you simply must watch painfully as the sky rains down upon it. For a time the bird must remain sorrowful.”

~Betty~

I am currently drowning in a sea of sorrow and tears.

The darkness in my heart holds me down under its weight. Each day it is becoming harder and harder to leave the house for any reason.

Everywhere I turn I see her face, each place in town or a restaurant or the grocery store or, or, or it never ends. Look there is a grey Honda Odyssey in the parking lot, maybe she is inside and I can surprise her? You never realize just how many grey Honda’s there are out there until you drop kids off at school. You also don’t realize how fast after the one you love is gone, free from all the pain and suffering that your mind takes you back and leaves you with images pre-Leukemia.

There is no reason she would be parked here at the grocery store with the Honda. She hadn’t driven in over 3 years. But that is the crazy game your mind plays with you. It sucks! It really sucks and it hurts a lot!

Lately my mind has been playing the cruelest trick of all. Reminding me or telling me how inadequate I really was and how much better I could or should have been.

Over the last few months, I had really hit bottom when it came to caring for myself. No sleep as it took all night to care for my wife and during the day I had children, ranch and pick up/drop off duties. Plus all the house chores with cooking and cleaning. Of course then there was doctor’s appointments, shuffling her to her dads, oh yeah and then for 48 hours a week I was a kind, caring firefighter for the citizens of our little community. I really was a real life walking zombie.

I found every excuse I could to stay away a few minutes longer when I got out of the house, (I rarely left her alone and only left when she was lucid) to get a break from wet beds, pee on the floor, picking her up because she was suffocating herself in her sleep due to the high number of drugs she was taking. Listening to her tell the same story over and over again as I simply nodded my head while coldly scrolling through my phone because I knew she couldn’t see me due to her GvHD induced blindness. I hate myself for that, I hate myself for every minute I spent away from best friend. Not because I really didn’t want to be with her, but because I just needed a minute to breathe. It was selfish and wrong, I will hate myself forever for not spending those moments engaged or by her side.

What makes things even worse lately is a few things.

My brain also won’t stop replaying every little thing she said to me over the last few months which currently leaves me hearing things I didn’t hear before due to mental exhaustion.

Jacy was starving for my attention! Not the attention I was giving her, the kind of attention she desperately needed. Approval.

I should have thrown the chores to the side and laid next to her more watching movies.

I should have cuddled her more.

I should have spent more time listening and less time talking.

I should have told her I thought she was beautiful despite what GvHD had done to her body. She hated the way she looked and I told her I loved her no matter what, and that I always would which was always followed with a kiss. What I should have said was I think you are beautiful, over and over again.

I should have never left her side even for a moment.

I miss her so badly and just the thought of her sweet face makes me cry. I can’t sleep, not really a fan of eating anymore, I am down to one meal a day. Thankfully I am not drinking on a regular basis or alone. I tried but it just made things worse, so very worse.

I am angry at all of you.

I am sad and angry that we won’t celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary. I had big plans for that one. Watching all of you happily celebrating your anniversaries and birthdays and love, it just makes me angry at God for taking my best friend away. It’s not your fault, but it stings and I don’t understand why the people I love keep dying.

If one more person tells me to find the positives I swear to Christ I am going to punch someone! There are no positives! I cannot for the life of me understand why? Why are there so many pieces of shit walking this earth and the one human being who showed me how to believe in love, humanity, and selflessness is taken from this world in such a horrific way! I watched her die!!! I can never erase that image from my fucking head!

Jacy would always tell me she knew, she always knew that she was supposed to be with me. That god had guided her way and always been the strength in her life!

So was she sent here to rescue me? Was she my own personal angel and now the time has come for her to go home and if so, how could God leave her to suffer so much before she went? I just don’t understand that either. She was in so much pain, every single day, she lost her sight, couldn’t breathe, had to live with broken ribs that wouldn’t heal, always felt like someone was squeezing her chest, retained water like a camel, lost all bladder control and couldn’t walk to the front door without a full blown panic attack!!! This poised, loving, caring, mother of four, church going, humanitarian and god loving human being was left with no dignity at the end!

Then I think it was all the medications that killed her! I mean it’s what I do for a living and yet we blindly follow the doctor’s orders! Most of her medications caused many of the problems she was suffering from under the guise of providing relief!

Or maybe I am just looking for blame because I am mad, because I will never press her cheek against mine again, feel her whisper in my ear, hear I love you. You know that really hurts.

Oh and she won’t be there for Parker and Jessica’s graduation, all the kids marriages and forth coming grandchildren! She won’t be there for mother’s day, no longer around for everyone’s birthdays all the things she enjoyed about life.

Don’t even get me started on Christmas!

Yeah I am a ball of fun!

What do I do? How do I go forward? Each day is getting harder, not easier! I stare at her pictures and want them to talk to me so badly!!! About anything!! Hell I’d even like to hear about the last episode she watched in regards to the Real Asshole Housewives of any fucking stupid city!!

But the pictures don’t talk, they just remind me of a time that was and will never be again. They hurt my heart, they make me wish I had one more day to say I love you, one more day to apologize for any day I was short with her or not on my game, one more day to hear her tell Cody to have a good day on the way out the door or have her tell me Jake called her and it made her day! One more day to hear all the dirty little gossip she learned from Jessica after an hour long bed and dumb television session between the two of them. One more day to laugh as her Parker watch a movie together and they both make silly comments to each other in regards to the flick they would be watching! One more day to hear about how the dogs all piled on top of her, scaring her but at the same time relishing in their doggie love. One more day to hear about how when she was stronger she was taking me to England to show me all the cool things she loved about that country. One more day to hear the story about how she became a firefighter, which of course led to us meeting and how she counted those blessing each and every day.

But of course I know if I had one more day that would lead to me wanting just one more day.

I see her walking out of Stanford triumphantly after 8 months. Crying tears of joy because she felt like she had a chance to live again.

I see lots of things, I am reliving lots of things, I am dying inside over lots of fucking things over and over and OVER AGAIN!

I really am having trouble envisioning a world without my wife in it. It just doesn’t seem fair or right, or both. Not completely for me either, but for all of you, and to the world. She had such big dreams that would have benefitted so many. I would have been so proud to help her see her dreams come to fruition while continuing on as the Montessori kids used to call me; Mr. Jacy.

And thus none of this will happen and here I am on a capsized boat named life. I have no life vest and I am drowning, slowly.

Drowning in a sea of tears..

I know you can’t say it back. But I love you Jacy..

30 Days….

theycallmebetty3 Comments

One month ago today my best friend, partner, hand holding, cheek snuggling, mischievous prankster, mom to our four children and all around goofy badass human being of a wife died.

That sounds so strange.

She is dead.

I waited all day to write about you Jacy, because I wasn’t sure how today would play out for me. I was a mess. I put on a good face, went and did something fun with dear friends, our son and horses. But the drive home was painful. I almost sobbed in Burger King as I recalled all the times you would mess with me over your order, hoping I would screw it up and you would get a good laugh at my expense. And for some reason every song on Pandora or the radio was either one of your favorites, one of our favorites or a correlation of both in conjunction with some special time or setting. I struggled to pull into the driveway and as soon as we unloaded horses found a reason to disappear again so no one would see me so damn sad.  Please forgive me honey…..

I know I have said this before and I will say it again so bear with me.

I have never and I mean ever gone this long without talking to her. Listening to her take on things, accepting or rejecting advice given or received from each other. Hearing her say; I love you in one of a hundred different ways that always reaffirmed our commitment to each other regardless of time or place. The darkness, cold and emptiness is, well, I guess it is just empty.

I know for a fact Jacy would kick my ass for behaving this way. She made me promise I wouldn’t and yet it is so hard to keep that promise, I am failing miserably. Sobbing for no reason, pining for her love as if she is going to walk through the door at any moment! We always knew this was a possibility and over the last few months it became more of a reality. Of course how could it not become more of a reality when every doctor during the last two months would ask; Jacy how long do YOU think you have?

Being Jacy she would answer without hesitation she was living long enough to see Parker graduate high school. She would then proclaim her forgiveness to me as that meant she was willing to check out after that milestone. I would smile and say it was ok and then both of us would gaze upon her physician wondering what the real projection might be. Her twitching like a nervous cat and me staring stone faced.

Within the year.

That was the answer we were greeted with and it never set well with her. How could it! Someone just gave you your official life expectancy! It stung even more because, well because this was Jacy!!!! If you knew my ass kicking, never take no for an answer, spin instructor, teacher, YouTube sensation and cheerleader for all wife, you knew that if anyone could beat any doctors expectations it was her! Right??

Ladies and gentlemen that is where the rub lies for me.

I know I have mentioned this before as well, either in the blog or in person, not sure, things have been really weird for me mentally lately. But here goes. The rub for me is I bought into this bullshit!!! I was so secure in my knowledge of my wife, her strengths and weaknesses that I seriously ignored what the doctors said and felt like she could, no dam it! She would make it another four years!!! She conned me and she conned me good!!!!

She cried in the elevator that day after hearing this for the second time, this time from her Kaiser doctor. I couldn’t even muster a “there, there honey” or hold her because I was so in shock! I was in shock we were actually coming to this point, I was in shock my wife who would never, and I mean ever bow to any such flabbergasting, erroneous bullshit prediction was believing it must be true. I was in shock that a day might actually come where she wouldn’t be by my side. I just stood there, in shock, as my wife wept and as the elevator doors opened, she hid her face so others wouldn’t see. We moved slowly to the car, I helped her inside, hugging her on the way down. I put away her wheel chair, slid into the car and did what I always do, tried to crack a joke. It didn’t go over. Right there, right fucking there I should have seen it, but I didn’t! Jacy was giving up.

That was 38 days before she slipped away from us.

I had bought into the super human, wonder woman, I am stronger than anyone on this earth bullshit, that my eyes became covered with blinders. I no longer recognized the worsening distressed look upon her face, the increased swelling and lesions that covered all areas of her body. I no longer heard her struggling to breathe harder than before, I simply treated it more aggressively and moved on. I no longer noticed she was wetting the bed any more or any less and trying her hardest to focus on small tasks she previously handled fairly well with her limited vision.  I no longer…. Not because of a lack of empathy, exhaustion or care, but because as I stated; I bought into the bullshit! This was Jacy and damn it, nothing and I mean nothing was going to happen to her!!!

Instead I became a quiet cheerleader, blinders on, hoping our tough as nails girl was actually doing better than she let on.

Don’t worry about the fact you wet the bed honey, I got it.

No I don’t mind cleaning the toilet chair, quit apologizing, I love you and this is what it means to love someone. Proud of you for making it here on your own.

I have all your pills figured out, no more overlapping, I think we can manage your increased pain without issue, you just need to trust me.

I know you don’t want to eat, but I made something really tasty and it has Marmite!!! Come on, just try a little, you can’t take your pills until you eat something good. She did love my cooking and that is one memory I will always love.

Are you cold, here is a comforter?

Are you warm? Here is a fan.

You want all the dogs on the bed, no problem.

I washed all your clothes, they are folded and placed on the couch; I will help you pick something later. Yes you can dress yourself but I am going to be here in case you need me.

And on and on and on..

With that, she kept going, and her effort every day made me feel like I was helping, like she had some form of independence which I felt she needed to keep mentally tough, to get stronger to win! But unfortunately the increased medications, increased antibiotics, the increased sleeping and loss of mental acuity all spoke volumes to just how wrong I was. My blinders were strong.

The reality is it didn’t matter what I did, GvHD was winning, the doctors knew it, those close to our family, including our immediate family knew it, I recognized it deep inside I suppose; I just chose to ignore it. To keep working hard, hoping she could just keep going a little longer.

Now here I am, alone.

It is such a dilemma of spirit.

Like I said, I know for a fact she would be mad at me for carrying on. But I can’t help it. I miss everything about her and now I am selfishly missing everything we lost before she got sick. I was on auto pilot for so long that it never occurred to me (even though I knew and thought about it all the time) how much I missed date nights, walks in the park or on the property, hiking in the woods, camping, boating, campfire ghost stories, taking in new dogs from the SPCA, cooking together, drinking wine and beer together, watching fucking survivor together, sitting in bed talking for hours, riding horses up Lagoon Valley together. I miss doing everything with her!!! I miss it all and on top of that I can’t even FUCKING TALK TO HER OR HEAR HER VOICE!!! ARRRRRGGGGGGGGG I’M SUCH A BROKEN RECORD!!!!

I miss it all, all of it, every single last messy bit of it!

Nobody ever deserves this but she really never deserved this! She never did anything wrong to anybody, she helped anyone who she felt needed it or asked. She did nothing her whole adult life but give, give, give. She radiated an energy that just can’t be explained and the minute you met her you felt it, you bathed in it and you knew instantly she was something, no, someone special.

Jacy you quite simply were the best human being I have ever known and I am so lucky you were mine for almost 17 years. My life will never, ever be the same.

I’m rambling, so I will wrap it up.

It’s been thirty days since we said goodbye, I feel you inside me, I feel you watching me; I have loved having you visit me in my dreams.

I just wish you could come home, wrap your arms around me, tell me it was all a dream and it will all be ok. Please? I’m scared.

Jacy I love you…….

A letter from Betty

theycallmebetty15 Comments

Hello everyone,

It has been no secret that I am struggling. I know it’s only been a month (in 3 days), or holy cow it’s been a month already since Jacy passed away? I guess it depends on your point of view. There has been more support for our family than one person deserves and I am very thankful for all the love.

The truth is, I was ready to quit writing after the last posting.

I stared at my pen name- Betty

I no longer wanted it.

Jacy called me Betty all the time. When I got to laughing and right before I hit full blown snorting, to my wife, my laugh sounded like Betty Rubble. It is a name I have worn with great pride.

I still don’t hear it, but that’s not what’s important. What is important is she thought that, and that is love, small and insignificant, but love none the less. I felt like as she died, it should die with her.

Quite a few people in our tight reign never have understood my need to write publicly. To express my feelings for the world to see. The reality is the only people seeing it are those who know us or have heard about us through friends.  I started this blog I think in 2011. I started it as a way to communicate my perspective on being a father. A single father most of the time, as my wife was a single parent most of the time as well. You see between her teaching and me being a firefighter not only with lots of time off but gone during the summer a lot because of overtime or strike team assignments, I felt the fathers perspective was important on raising children semi-alone. Of course we were never really alone, there were more times we were all together as a family than not, and what an amazing family my wife and I have been blessed to create.

As I am writing this it dawns on me that she is going to miss so much, and that is tearing me apart.

Little did I know it (the blog) would morph into something completely different a short 2 years later, thus The Face of Leukemia was born. This is where I am struggling. My need to write publicly came about because I felt after looking around on the web post diagnosis there was nothing, and I mean nothing for the spouse of a Leukemia patient!! There was the obligatory stories on how to support your ill spouse, but nothing in regards to what you really will face emotionally and long term if things go that direction. It drove me nuts!

Also let me preface with something if you will. The man I am today is nothing like the man I was before my wife got her hands on me. She worked very hard on this human being, I have never refuted that for an instant! They say:  behind every good man stands an amazing woman.

I say; standing alongside every good person stands a very patient, devoted spouse.

That is because both of you should complement the other. She complimented me every single day by striving to make me the very best human being I could possibly be and she never once quit me. Make no mistake, I never made it easy for her, but she persevered. I love her so much, and miss her horribly. Not having her here when I need help is terrifying.

I digress

So finding nothing for Leukemia spouses, I hoped, no I prayed that if I wrote about how I was feeling, the struggles we both were facing, the highs and the lows, the triumphs and unfortunately the failures, someone, anyone would see it and not feel alone. Jacy supported me in this because after reading a few, then following every single one I wrote she knew in her heart it would help others and really all my wife ever wanted out of life was to help others, each and every day. We had a few that were too much for her to read and near the end she asked if I would stop writing about her all together. It was because as she read my postings she knew her time was becoming short. It was scary and hard to imagine. She had always been such a fighter and coming to terms with what would be the ultimate loss was more than she could bear. I honored that promise.

I feel as though my job is done. I feel dismayed over what lays ahead, and I swear to you, if you are reading this, I have never meant to make anyone cry. I hear that a lot and it weighs heavy on my soul. One of the things my wife loved and hated about me is that I have absolutely no filter. I say what I feel. She loved it because during our entire marriage she always knew where I stood on just about everything. She hated it at times because in the beginning I didn’t know how to temper it, or turn it off for it may create an inappropriate moment. But as with everything she did, she worked hard and rounded my sharp edges. Yet I still feel awful when I know my words or feelings have hurt another through my writings and I think that is the public portion others don’t or will never understand. Because to get to that point you need to put it all on the table and to do so takes away any privacy in just about any matter. I made our struggles very public. So with that, the question which has been hanging on me is; do I keep on? Is there a reason too? Would she want me too?

Do I stop being Betty because the only person who knew me, I mean truly knew me as Betty, called me Betty and professed her endless love to Betty is gone?

Do I carry on with Betty as a remembrance or tribute to my amazing wife?

Do I just keep crying every time I hear her voice in my head telling Betty to come over and give her a kiss because she is proud of me?

Do I keep writing hoping I still have something to say that will help another?

What the fuck do I do?

Seriously where is she to tell me what the fuck to do!!!!

This morning I awoke from a dream. It was such a great dream! She and I were together, walking hand in hand, the kids were small and running around through a forest. She was telling me all about her day at the Montessori school and how the kids emotionally filled her gas tank and how she loved each and every one of them as her own. In the middle of the conversation she looked at me, held my face and told me just how much she loved me and how she appreciated that writing about her was helping so many others. I was confused because I didn’t know (in the dream) what she was talking about.

When I awoke at 5:30 this morning, as though someone had hit me in the face. I laid there and cried a little because the dream was so real and she wasn’t there next to me. Then I began remembering the dream, and feeling sorry for myself until I came to that portion in the woods. The recollection was powerful and strong. She was talking to me, not at me, or with me, but to me, Betty her husband.

I listened.

So Betty is going to stay around for a while if you’ll have me? I’ll probably be writing about how much I miss her, figuring out who I am and trying to unlock the mystery of how we move forward from here without quite possibly the best person I have ever known in my life by my side. I really do hope that if this blog still reaches just one, then I suppose my job is done.

Also for those wondering I have set a deadline for a finished product on “the book” for the end of December. Figure maybe that’s a sign for a good new year. Lord knows this cursed family needs a least one. And again in the New Year we will begin the process of starting a Jacy’s Army foundation. Starting with scholarships and we’ll see where it goes from there, but I absolutely refuse to let the random acts of kindness my wife performed every single day, disappear form this earth.

Know my fellow AML. Leukemia, BMT friends you are not alone, these are real emotions, real feelings, and although in the end it didn’t turn out the way any of us had hoped, it can still turn out well for you and others just like yourself.

If you enjoy reading this blog, then take what you can, make it your own, and pass forward the love. Because really isn’t that why we are here on this earth? To help others?

God bless you all,

Jacy’s Betty……..

The sounds of silence and where do I go from here?

theycallmebetty4 Comments

Sitting at her desk this morning trying my hardest to focus on the 6 millionth start to a book I have already written, something comes to mind. It is lonely. So very lonely and it’s not a lonely that can be filled by friends or family, a phone call or a letter, facetime or actual conversation with well simply anyone.

It is the lonely that comes from silence.

You never realize how noisy your marriage is until it’s over. All the little things like you hustling trying to get kids out the door, her making lunches or singing in the kitchen to a song on Pandora using made up words because well it is the morning and she knows it bugs the crap out everyone so they move a little faster while she smiles with glee. It is hearing her use the damn coffee pot you hate because you own a Keurig and she simply likes the cheapness associated with a standard coffee pot. Her humming I love you as you walk out the door reminding her you’ll be home in an hour. She says she knows but you never know what can happen and she just wants you to know how much you mean to her.

It really is all the little things. The little things that make up the white noise of a relationship.

I woke up this morning and my dog had climbed onto the bed. He was asleep with his back up against mine and in the haziness of first awaking for a second, one split second I thought it was all a bad dream. 5 years a bad dream! It wasn’t, I was still alone, Jacy is still dead. In reality we hadn’t slept together for almost a year. She needed to be downstairs and with her being up all hours of the night depending on where she was with her meds and her constant need for sound (something she had before she got sick only more intense as time went on) the only way I could achieve even a few hours of sleep a night was to retire upstairs. I regret that decision now. I guess in a way it was preparing me for the future. None the less I have fully determined I hate sleeping alone. Oh well, guess I will have to get over it.

The white noise is everywhere.

I will never come home to the joyous sounds of her playing the piano again. She was never taught how, she played the flute, but her understanding of music made it easy for her to adapt to just about any instrument she picked up. I hate looking at that fucking piano.

Walking through the door in the afternoon to smell and hear all about some god awful concoctions she was creating. Foods or flavors that should never and mean ever be associated with each other, but there wasn’t anything left in the fridge so out to the garden she went and viola we have dinner! The funny thing is with only a few minor exceptions, even her craziest of Top Chef mismatched masterpieces all tasted great! I really am missing that right now on a cool fall morning.

The sounds of her painting or creating leather work. She was blind, but would sit at this very desk and create pieces of art out of whatever she touched. I made her a board from scratch to adjust and hold her leather while she stamped it or painted it slowly with one eye squinted shut and the other double focused on her work. The board is sitting here, never to be used again. I hate that fucking board.

Listening to her ask about the kids days when they got home, remind them of chores, reprimand them when they were jerks to her or smother them in love when they apologized. This whole thing has been so hard on the kids and I know they feel sad about each and every time they brushed her off as she was bedridden still trying her best to run the household. She loved them all so much and that love came out every day. The sounds of love bouncing from these walls, it has certain ring, a specific note when it comes from a mother’s perspective. It is quiet now; that sucks hard.

The permanency of it all is so overwhelming.

I know, everyone keeps telling me she can hear me, her love is all around us, it is in our children and the home we made. I know I simply need to talk with her, or I guess to her because she really can’t talk back. I stare endlessly into this room I created, I hear the oxygen machine still running or the lack of it, I am not sure. I wish I was still bleach mopping the floor while she incessantly apologized for all I needed to do to take care of her. That always bugged me, I would snap at her and say to knock it off! I would tell her I loved more than anything on this earth and there is no place I would rather be! I would kiss her on the forehead, then make her lunch, sit in the chair at the end of her bed and stare at her. Worried this day was coming.

In reality there was some other place I would rather have been.

Back in Alaska on the cruise with her! In Mexico, on the beach with her! In the mountains, hiking with her! In our own backyard riding horses with her!

I would have gone anywhere or done anything with her! Even if I didn’t want to. She just had a way of always convincing me to go and really, if you knew my wife or spent any time with her you just knew what ever her exploits were it was going to be one hell of a good time!

Besides that woman could convince a police officer to rob a bank, a hooker into becoming a nun, or the wealthiest person in the world into giving away every last dime. It just is who she was. I seriously am going to miss that I think the most.

So yeah, the silence is killing me, crushing me, it is hard to breathe most days. I am trying so very hard and it really is so nice how strong everyone believes that I am, but I don’t feel strong, I feel, I feel, I think I feel cursed. I feel as though there is some kind of vendetta against me. I feel like a permanent black cloud. I feel like loneliness is my calling. I hate being alone.

Jacy would tell me that God has a plan for us all and this was his plan. I remember her telling me through tears not more than 6 weeks ago that she wasn’t ready! She wasn’t ready to leave this earth, that she felt there was still so much work to do, so many kids to help!!! I held her while she cried and promised her if her time did come I would carry that work on for her.

I have always been a man of my word.

I am starting a scholarship fund in Jacy’s name for high school kids here in Dixon. It will benefit Ag kids because that is what she believed. We were able to secure a little over $700 on Saturday at her memorial by selling left over tri-tip. So we are up and running.

I am also looking into starting a foundation using Jacys Army as the name. It will hopefully grow and secure enough funding to become perpetual. The objective will be to assist families that do not have the assistance or support we were lucky enough to have while going through Leukemia treatment. This one was my idea and something my wife backed 100% as we talked discussed in detail the lack of assistance for families less fortunate as ourselves as we went through the process.

I also promised her I would continue on, that I would be ok, alone. I lied to her a lot on that one. Starting with day trips, new places and taking lots of pictures of my alone adventures. But I never wanted her to worry about me more than she already did, so I kept doing it even though I wanted nothing more than to be by her side. Ultimately it created a man who was quiet and walked a lot with his head down. She called them rest breaks or time away from caring for her. It was time needed there is no argument there, I put on a super brave face and sold it like a used car salesman, but it is coming back to haunt me now as I long for all those moments I missed with my wife. I hate myself for not being there, for distancing myself from family. But it is what it is I guess, no changing it now.

So instead of rambling on like an A-hole; I guess what all of this is leading to is this;

If you love someone, I mean really love someone!

Make every moment count. Even the little ones. Life is short, it can be taken away at a moment’s notice. I am blessed because we knew it would eventually come. But there are so many that walk out the door in the morning never to return again. Is that how you want to leave it?

Never stay mad at your spouse, no matter what. You have the ability to talk just about anything out and come to a resolution. I promise! I could make that woman spit hot lead, and she could make me flip a truck at times, yet we always forgave each other in our own ways. And yes, sometimes you need to recognize that not all forgiveness comes with an apology. Anyone who has been married long enough who reads this knows exactly what I am talking about.

Remember daily why you love them. Why you married them or are with them. Never forget that, they are special to you for a reason. Honor that reason and cherish it.

Never go to bed mad. Seriously it sounds dumb but it’s true. Every day truly is a new day! We are only given so many of those days so don’t waste them! Besides the snoring is enough on its own, so don’t find something else.

Enjoy every single little thing, from burnt meals, dirty clothes, dishes not done, to bad singing and even watching shows you cannot stand. The thing is you’re spending time together and that’s what’s important. You can never get that lost time back.

When the going gets tough, don’t even think for a moment about running away. If that’s what you’re thinking then in my humble opinion you never truly loved each other. Sorry but as my wife would say; the truth can be painful but in the end, it is still the truth.

Love is amazing, it makes us do crazy things. But the reality is love isn’t all the glorious movie tag lines or clichés we’ve grown up with or are led to believe. No my friends, love is all the messy and yes sometimes painful stuff in the middle. The rest is just the icing on loves cake.

Thanks for letting me vent all this out. I actually feel a little better. I am sorry if I hurt your feelings or made you cry. It was never my intention.