What can I say?

I've almost filled a spiral notebook. My conversations with Rich. It is not totally real that he is not walking in the door any minute to tell me something about a client or project or prospect. Almost 40 years of sharing, 35 married and in business together. We were kids together, we grew up together, we raised kids together. It is amazing that I can feel great joy and catastrophic earth movement through my body. Richard is there. He is still in our home. This place IS 'a better place', full of laughter and yelling, hugs and slammed doors, deep sharing and ridiculous miscommunications, never enough and way too much, and everything in between.

It is almost a week. But it has been almost a year. Rich was terribly sick beginning January 16th, the same day I began helping Alexandra and Bertie get their two preschoolers off to school. But it started before then. Rich was so proud he was loosing weight, buying smaller jeans and shorter belts. I was not excited. I was worried. He wasn't doing anything differently to loose the weight. Crista and I talked about it. Sara is kinder, complimented him and look at my sour puss. I guess the weight loss started last autumn. Feb 16 when he went in for the endoscopy and colonoscopy, I went for a bike ride then met him while he was still recovering from the anesthesia.

Richard did not want to do traditional western protocol. Palliative Care. Rich told me not to worry, he was not going to die. He would raise funds to get alternative curative treatment. He did get some of what he wanted but the cancer didn't notice. June 30th he was in emergency at Kaiser. July 2nd had a G tube inserted in his stomach to provide nutrition. He could no longer swallow anything but saliva. The tumor covered his esophagus. What did he say? 'This is GOOD! Now I don't have to worry about what I eat while I get cured.'

Eventually, I bought into his intention of being healed. It was too painful not to and not worth stealing what little hope he could grasp. Periodically he would slide out from under cover of his lions mantel and I would hit the deck with him. Rich has been many things to me, but for most of my life he has been MY encourager. When he slipped, I fell. So I told him at the end, he did good. The kids and his brother said so too. Everyone that was part of this horrible journey was there for us.

What can I say?