My goal...
Dalek #2: Identify grid Seven Gamma Flame. This male registers as enemy!
...
Dalek Leader: Identify him!
Rose Tyler: All right then... if you really want to know. That's the Doctor.
[all four Daleks recoil in apparent fear]
Rose Tyler: Five million Cybermen, easy. One Doctor? NOW you're scared!
(From "Doomsday")
OK, so I may never strike fear into the "heart" of an interstellar evil, but just to be the kind of man who, when the line is drawn, people will not have to guess on which side I stand. That is the type of life I hope to shape for myself in my remaining years.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Romantic Heroes
Some days I really feel out of touch with modern society. In the last couple of days I have been somewhat sequestered in my house, working from home and watching my newly arrived DVDs of Doctor Who Series One and Series Two. During this time I have told a couple of friends that I want to be Doctor Who. One friend said "A dilettante?". Well, I don't find a dilettante being an apt description of "The Doctor" since his knowledge isn't superficial, but what I want to be is the type of person "The Doctor" is. What I had in mind is the following quote from the episode "World War Three":
"Because this is my life; it's not fun, it's not smart, it's just standing up and making a decision because nobody else will."
This quote made me think about other literary and cinematic characters that I love. To give you an idea consider the following:
"May have been the losing side. Still not convinced it was the wrong one." - Malcolm Reynolds, Firefly
"It's not how much time you have, but what you choose to do with the time you are given." - Gandalf, Lord of the Rings
Elsa: Don't look at me like that. We both wanted the Grail. I would have done anything to get it. You would have done the same.
Indiana Jones: I'm sorry you think so. - Indiana Jones ("The Last Crusade")
"Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest."- Mark Twain
The idea is of someone who choses to do what they think is the right thing regardless of the personal consequences. I haven't lived up to this idea but as this is the first day of the rest of my life this is what I want to do with the remaining time I have been given. It won't make me popular, it won't win me friends, but it seems like the times in which we live are rather short on people who will draw a line in the sand, who will stand up for what they think is right. Too often we complain, we gripe and bitch about what we think is wrong but we don't really DO anything about it. So it is my personal hope to change this at least in my own life. So, to inaccurately quote Admiral David Farragut at the Battle of Mobile Bay, "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead".
"Because this is my life; it's not fun, it's not smart, it's just standing up and making a decision because nobody else will."
This quote made me think about other literary and cinematic characters that I love. To give you an idea consider the following:
"May have been the losing side. Still not convinced it was the wrong one." - Malcolm Reynolds, Firefly
"It's not how much time you have, but what you choose to do with the time you are given." - Gandalf, Lord of the Rings
Elsa: Don't look at me like that. We both wanted the Grail. I would have done anything to get it. You would have done the same.
Indiana Jones: I'm sorry you think so. - Indiana Jones ("The Last Crusade")
"Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest."- Mark Twain
The idea is of someone who choses to do what they think is the right thing regardless of the personal consequences. I haven't lived up to this idea but as this is the first day of the rest of my life this is what I want to do with the remaining time I have been given. It won't make me popular, it won't win me friends, but it seems like the times in which we live are rather short on people who will draw a line in the sand, who will stand up for what they think is right. Too often we complain, we gripe and bitch about what we think is wrong but we don't really DO anything about it. So it is my personal hope to change this at least in my own life. So, to inaccurately quote Admiral David Farragut at the Battle of Mobile Bay, "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead".
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Removing Clothing Is Not Enough
Last night was a good night for me. I was fortunate to spend 8 hours in the company of a nice young man. We had dinner, coffee, and talked for hours (among other things). It was inevitable that the topic of my relatively recent split from Aleks was raised and once again I recounted, in self-withering detail, what happened, why I think it happened, my feelings about it, etc. To his credit the young man did not excuse himself and break for the nearest exit. This morning though as I replayed the thoughts of what I said and tried to recall how I felt, and re-reading some of my posts, I discovered something terrible. Yes, with the assistance of a good therapist I have come to grips with certain issues in my life that need attending in some fashion before I can get into any kind of serious relationship, but after this self-awareness came... well, it's a bit difficult to understand, but during this morning's reflection I recalled a passage from the 17th Century Haiku master Matsuo Basho:
I took a kimono off
To feel lighter
Only putting it in the load
On my back.
The moment I descended
Mount Yoshino,
I sought to sell
My cotton-stuffed coat
(As a side note, let's see how many ivy-league graduates can pull from memory 17th century Japanese poetry. Thanks Missouri public schools! *grin*).
Like a bolt of illuminating lightening I saw this as my current state. I realized that I needed to shed something to "feel lighter", but I hadn't discarded it, I simply put it somewhere else and continued to carry the full weight of it around. What a terrible violation of my Christian religion and my somewhat newly acquired Zen identity. Starting with the latter, Zen teaches that there is no real past and no future, there is an eternal now. I cannot change the past so it is fruitless to dwell upon it. I cannot guarantee the future so I simply live now and experience the "future" when it gets here (for you Zen purists I understand this statement is not Zen, but it is my interpretation for those who don't have any idea what Zen might be about). So carrying around the heavy weight of past events and thinking of "what might have been" is both painful and fruitless. In the now I take what I have learned and carry it with me, but I need to let go of the guilt, sadness, anger, and fear that created the environment. As for the Christian aspect, two verses of Scripture come to mind:
For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:15, 16
...casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7
As Christians we have someone to come to when we need mercy and help in times of need. And we are called upon to cast those care, those troubles, those problems upon Him knowing that He does care for us. We are not told to walk around all mournful and sad, but after giving those things up to Christ we are to count them as given away.
So now it is time to take the kimono from my backpack. I'm not wearing it, so it is time to remove its weight entirely from my person. Then and only then will I feel coolness in this life.
I took a kimono off
To feel lighter
Only putting it in the load
On my back.
The moment I descended
Mount Yoshino,
I sought to sell
My cotton-stuffed coat
(As a side note, let's see how many ivy-league graduates can pull from memory 17th century Japanese poetry. Thanks Missouri public schools! *grin*).
Like a bolt of illuminating lightening I saw this as my current state. I realized that I needed to shed something to "feel lighter", but I hadn't discarded it, I simply put it somewhere else and continued to carry the full weight of it around. What a terrible violation of my Christian religion and my somewhat newly acquired Zen identity. Starting with the latter, Zen teaches that there is no real past and no future, there is an eternal now. I cannot change the past so it is fruitless to dwell upon it. I cannot guarantee the future so I simply live now and experience the "future" when it gets here (for you Zen purists I understand this statement is not Zen, but it is my interpretation for those who don't have any idea what Zen might be about). So carrying around the heavy weight of past events and thinking of "what might have been" is both painful and fruitless. In the now I take what I have learned and carry it with me, but I need to let go of the guilt, sadness, anger, and fear that created the environment. As for the Christian aspect, two verses of Scripture come to mind:
For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:15, 16
...casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7
As Christians we have someone to come to when we need mercy and help in times of need. And we are called upon to cast those care, those troubles, those problems upon Him knowing that He does care for us. We are not told to walk around all mournful and sad, but after giving those things up to Christ we are to count them as given away.
So now it is time to take the kimono from my backpack. I'm not wearing it, so it is time to remove its weight entirely from my person. Then and only then will I feel coolness in this life.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
OB at 6AM
I love watching neighborhoods wake up. Yesterday I walked down to the beach to grab some coffee and the sights that greeted me made me appreciate where I live. These photos were done with my camera, hence the poor quality but they will give you some idea. I intend to to this again with my "real" camera later this week.
Enjoy.
Enjoy.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Willy, Oscar, and Me
Last night I spent an enjoyable time at a party hosted by a gracious young lady named Jesi. It was a night where both wine and conversation flowed and I was more than willing to be swept away by both. The theme was "A Night With Shakespeare" and in addition to having food and drink we were treated to a brief talk on the representation of Shakespeare on film and then scenes from Shakespeare's "As You Like It" were performed by members of the cast from Coronado Playhouse (who will be performing the play at the playhouse gratis!). Of course, one of the scenes they performed was the famous "All the world's a stage" as spoken by Jaques. I don't know all of it but what I do remember (from my college course 20+ years ago) is this:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts
For some reason I immediately began channeling Oscar Wilde. Perhaps it is because I am currently reading his published letters, but through the slight fog of wine my synapses cobbled together the following lines from Wilde's "Lord Arthur Savile's Crime":
Actors are so fortunate. They can choose whether they will appear in tragedy or in comedy, whether they will suffer or make merry, laugh or shed tears. But in real life it is different. Most men and women are forced to perform parts for which they have no qualifications. Our Guildensterns play Hamlet for us and our Hamlets have to jest like Prince Hal. The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast
Or something like that... I'll have to go buy Oscar's short stories but if nothing else I know the last line is accurate, both in text and in life's context. One of the issues with which I am wrestling is trying to discover what part I am to perform and how to become "qualified". All around me I see at least as much truth in Oscar's writing on the subject as I do Master Shakespeare's, probably more. People are trying to play parts for which they are not qualified. People simply do things because they think it is that befitting their "status" (especially, I find, as one moves beyond what is often ridiculed as "middle class"). I hate snobbery. I hate pretentious people. Luckily last night I really encountered it only once (personally, I think it a wonderful testament to both Harvard and to the high school football player that he applied and was accepted and I was not "astonished" that they took him as the person relaying the story to me was).
So now what role am I to play? Last night was devoted to Shakespeare but I was thinking Wilde. Maybe that is my role. After all, Oscar did take earn a double first at Oxford and was able to move within the stuffy realm of the elite of society while simply being himself, observing, commenting, injecting truth at times into a people who seemed to avoid it. It's a difficult role but perhaps it is one I'll try out for in life, or to quote my other current obsession Wicked:
Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by
The rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes
And leap...
It's time to try defying gravity
I think I'll try defying gravity
And you can't pull me down
...
I'm through accepting limits
Cuz someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try I'll never know
Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well if that's love
It comes at much too high a cost
I'd sooner buy defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down!
So this morning, in honor of Oscar's light, I took the book of his published letters and walked down to Shades for my Sunday morning breakfast and ordered (appropriately) the Irish oatmeal. Well, I am not quite sure what Oscar would have thought about the oatmeal but I know he would appreciate the group of shirtless young male joggers that all too quickly passed by...
No joggers here, but this was my view for most of breakfast:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts
For some reason I immediately began channeling Oscar Wilde. Perhaps it is because I am currently reading his published letters, but through the slight fog of wine my synapses cobbled together the following lines from Wilde's "Lord Arthur Savile's Crime":
Actors are so fortunate. They can choose whether they will appear in tragedy or in comedy, whether they will suffer or make merry, laugh or shed tears. But in real life it is different. Most men and women are forced to perform parts for which they have no qualifications. Our Guildensterns play Hamlet for us and our Hamlets have to jest like Prince Hal. The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast
Or something like that... I'll have to go buy Oscar's short stories but if nothing else I know the last line is accurate, both in text and in life's context. One of the issues with which I am wrestling is trying to discover what part I am to perform and how to become "qualified". All around me I see at least as much truth in Oscar's writing on the subject as I do Master Shakespeare's, probably more. People are trying to play parts for which they are not qualified. People simply do things because they think it is that befitting their "status" (especially, I find, as one moves beyond what is often ridiculed as "middle class"). I hate snobbery. I hate pretentious people. Luckily last night I really encountered it only once (personally, I think it a wonderful testament to both Harvard and to the high school football player that he applied and was accepted and I was not "astonished" that they took him as the person relaying the story to me was).
So now what role am I to play? Last night was devoted to Shakespeare but I was thinking Wilde. Maybe that is my role. After all, Oscar did take earn a double first at Oxford and was able to move within the stuffy realm of the elite of society while simply being himself, observing, commenting, injecting truth at times into a people who seemed to avoid it. It's a difficult role but perhaps it is one I'll try out for in life, or to quote my other current obsession Wicked:
Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by
The rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes
And leap...
It's time to try defying gravity
I think I'll try defying gravity
And you can't pull me down
...
I'm through accepting limits
Cuz someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try I'll never know
Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well if that's love
It comes at much too high a cost
I'd sooner buy defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down!
So this morning, in honor of Oscar's light, I took the book of his published letters and walked down to Shades for my Sunday morning breakfast and ordered (appropriately) the Irish oatmeal. Well, I am not quite sure what Oscar would have thought about the oatmeal but I know he would appreciate the group of shirtless young male joggers that all too quickly passed by...
No joggers here, but this was my view for most of breakfast:
Monday, August 06, 2007
Everyone needs a little help
Just a big ol' hug to my friend Elbert who is playing the Galinda role to my Elphaba in reintroducing myself back to the "community":
If you would rather listen
GALINDA
(spoken) Elphie - now that we're friends, I've decided to
make you my new project.
ELPHABA
(spoken) You really don't have to do that
GALINDA
(spoken) I know. That's what makes me so nice!
(sung) Whenever I see someone
Less fortunate than I
(And let's face it - who isn't
Less fortunate than I?)
My tender heart
Tends to start to bleed
And when someone needs a makeover
I simply have to take over
I know I know exactly what they need
And even in your case
Tho' it's the toughest case I've yet to face
Don't worry - I'm determined to succeed
Follow my lead
And yes, indeed
You will be:
Popular!
You're gonna be popular!
I'll teach you the proper ploys
When you talk to boys
Little ways to flirt and flounce
I'll show you what shoes to wear
How to fix your hair
Everything that really counts
To be popular
I'll help you be popular!
You'll hang with the right cohorts
You'll be good at sports
Know the slang you've got to know
So let's start
'Cause you've got an awfully long way to go:
Don't be offended by my frank analysis
Think of it as personality dialysis
Now that I've chosen to be come a pal, a
Sister and adviser
There's nobody wiser
Not when it comes to popular -
I know about popular
And with an assist from me
To be who you'll bee
Instead of dreary who-you-were: are:
There's nothing that can stop you
From becoming popu-
Ler: lar:
La la la la
We're gonna make
You popular
When I see depressing creatures
With unprepossessing features
I remind them on their own behalf
To think of
Celebrated heads of state or
Specially great communicators
Did they have brains or knowledge?
Don't make me laugh!
They were popular! Please -
It's all about popular!
It's not about aptitude
It's the way you're viewed
So it's very shrewd to be
Very very popular
Like me!
(spoken) Why, Miss Elphaba, look at you. You're beautiful.
ELPHABA(spoken) I - I have to go:
GALINDA
(spoken) You're welcome!
(sung) And though you protest
Your disinterest
I know clandestinely
You're gonna grin and bear it
Your new found popularity
La la la la
You'll be popular -
Just not as quite as popular
As me!
If you would rather listen
GALINDA
(spoken) Elphie - now that we're friends, I've decided to
make you my new project.
ELPHABA
(spoken) You really don't have to do that
GALINDA
(spoken) I know. That's what makes me so nice!
(sung) Whenever I see someone
Less fortunate than I
(And let's face it - who isn't
Less fortunate than I?)
My tender heart
Tends to start to bleed
And when someone needs a makeover
I simply have to take over
I know I know exactly what they need
And even in your case
Tho' it's the toughest case I've yet to face
Don't worry - I'm determined to succeed
Follow my lead
And yes, indeed
You will be:
Popular!
You're gonna be popular!
I'll teach you the proper ploys
When you talk to boys
Little ways to flirt and flounce
I'll show you what shoes to wear
How to fix your hair
Everything that really counts
To be popular
I'll help you be popular!
You'll hang with the right cohorts
You'll be good at sports
Know the slang you've got to know
So let's start
'Cause you've got an awfully long way to go:
Don't be offended by my frank analysis
Think of it as personality dialysis
Now that I've chosen to be come a pal, a
Sister and adviser
There's nobody wiser
Not when it comes to popular -
I know about popular
And with an assist from me
To be who you'll bee
Instead of dreary who-you-were: are:
There's nothing that can stop you
From becoming popu-
Ler: lar:
La la la la
We're gonna make
You popular
When I see depressing creatures
With unprepossessing features
I remind them on their own behalf
To think of
Celebrated heads of state or
Specially great communicators
Did they have brains or knowledge?
Don't make me laugh!
They were popular! Please -
It's all about popular!
It's not about aptitude
It's the way you're viewed
So it's very shrewd to be
Very very popular
Like me!
(spoken) Why, Miss Elphaba, look at you. You're beautiful.
ELPHABA(spoken) I - I have to go:
GALINDA
(spoken) You're welcome!
(sung) And though you protest
Your disinterest
I know clandestinely
You're gonna grin and bear it
Your new found popularity
La la la la
You'll be popular -
Just not as quite as popular
As me!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Recollections
Haunted wouldn't be the right word, but lately I have been remembering Jerry. Jerry (Jerome Heard) was someone I loved during my time in St. Louis and though he died 12 years ago I still carry a piece of him with me in my heart. Over the past few weeks I have been thinking about him. If I was superstitious I would say that his spirit has been trying to contact me but as neither he nor I believed in such things and as I have no actual evidence it exists I have to place these thoughts in the realm of my own psychology attempting to contact me. As I have sat and pondered on what it means pieces of it fall into place given certain current events and revelations about myself. So, for your edification, I tell you part of the story.
Jerry came out when he was 17 and six months later contracted HIV. When I met him after moving to St. Louis he had been living with the disease for a few years. We met during a dinner party before going to a play ("Pippin") and I noticed him whispering to one of his friends and glancing at me. Jerry was blond, thin but not yet skinny, and had the biggest smile I had ever seen. As we separated after the play he gave me his number and said "Call me". I did, we went out, went out more, and eventually found a place together in the suburbs (shudder) of Maryland Heights. Jerry was up front about his HIV status and extremely protective of me. While there was intimacy there was no sex. I still recall us sitting on the couch watching television, his head resting on my chest and his hands running over it saying how that if we lived in the time of the cavemen he would be envied by all of the cave women. Not a day went by for almost three years that he didn't tell me he was happy that he was with me or how much he loved me. And I felt the same towards him and told him so. When his health began to decline he told me he always wanted to be married, so I contacted my friend Patrick who was in seminary in Chicago and asked him if he would come perform the ceremony. Jerry and his mother planned something simple. We rented a small park and held the ceremony and reception there. I can still picture him... he couldn't stand for long periods of time so he was in a wheel chair. We said our own vows (damn I hate tears), kissed, and presented to the assembly as a couple (given that we had been one for two years at that point notwithstanding). The next day we were off to Orlando for the honeymoon (Jerry loved Disneyworld) and then over to New Orleans. It worn him down but he loved every second of it... and God bless my company, they gave me time off even though at the time there wasn't anything like domestic partnership at the time (Israelies have a very large and inclusive concept of what makes a family).
Fast forward.
Jerry's health declined despite my working with some of the best in the field, no expense spared, to find something... anything... that would help. He became blind, he couldn't walk from the car to the movie theatre (he loved movies). We had a nurse come in a couple of days a week and his mother was there all the time so I could work. And then one day the call came... his nurse said I needed to come home. I remember getting the call in my downtown office. Beth, the lady who was my mentor as a DBA was with me when it came. She grabbed my truck keys off the table, mashed them into my hand and said "Go". When I arrived the nurse and Jerry's mom were there. Jerry was in bed, drenched with sweat and unresponsive. We said very little as they both left the bedroom. I remember closing the door, telling him that I was there. He was laying on his side facing the wall, breathing shallow and extremely rapid. There was a small bowl with cool water and a sponge. I lightly covered his head and face with the water, then stripped down and put on my pajama bottoms and crawled into bed with him, snuggling up as close to him as possible, slipping my right arm under him neck, pressing my body up to his as much as I dared in the hopes of him knowing I was there. I talked to him, telling him how happy I had been and how selfish of me to want him to stay, but that it was time for him to go, that his work was done and that it was time for him to rest. He breathing seemed to slow and I could feel him sort of sink into my body. His left hand, which I had been cradling in my right hand, squeezed, and then he stopped breathing. There were medical directives in place for no extraordinary efforts so I didn't call for the nurse. I cried. We lay there for a couple of minutes. I checked for a pulse in his wrist and his neck and found none. I remember kissing his cheek, wiping the tears from my eyes on the bed sheet, getting out of bed, putting my clothes back on and going out to tell his mom and the nurse. We said very little. The nurse called the time of death, his mom started with the funeral preparations (they had been made even before I met Jerry). The next few days were a blur. I vaguely remember the funeral, speaking at the service, then completely breaking down and crying on the coffin after the people had left building. Again the company showed how it valued me by giving me bereavement leave (they told me I would have made a good "sabra" because I was tough and prickly on the outside but sweet and tender on the inside). Jerry was buried with his wedding band... I still have mine, along with the memories of his smile and his laugh. He was 25 when he died. Lately I have been looking at the small memorial at Doorways Memorial.
So many things to learn about myself. I was devastated, quite a broken man in fact. I read C. S. Lewis' "A Grief Observed" a few dozen times in the ensuing weeks and learned how it is alright to scream and yell at God. I did so often, both inside my head and out in the park where were we married.
I am by nature a caretaker and in this episode of my life I was shown for the first time that there are just some things that are beyond my own considerable abilities. This problem has plagued me to the present day and I think "Jerry" is trying to tell me to be careful. I'm lonely. It would be so easy to find a broken person that needed help and fall for them with the desire to help them (dangerously close to codependency... can anyone give me Melody Beattie's phone number?). I also, for one of the few times in my life, was given back as much as I gave. Not a day went by for as long as he was able that Jerry did not hug me, squeeze me, or at least tell me that he loved me.
Perhaps Nietzsche was right and time is circular (stolen from the Greeks of course... all good things are Greek *snicker*). I feel like this pattern keeps coming over and over again... but maybe it is time to take my Platonic view of things and sprinkle in a little Hinduism and start working off the "karmic debt" by learning from my past problems. That is what I am trying to do. I still make mistakes, I wield my newly acquired self-knowledge like a battle ax rather than a surgeon's scalpel. But time and opportunity to practice is what I need. Hopefully I will have both.
Jerry came out when he was 17 and six months later contracted HIV. When I met him after moving to St. Louis he had been living with the disease for a few years. We met during a dinner party before going to a play ("Pippin") and I noticed him whispering to one of his friends and glancing at me. Jerry was blond, thin but not yet skinny, and had the biggest smile I had ever seen. As we separated after the play he gave me his number and said "Call me". I did, we went out, went out more, and eventually found a place together in the suburbs (shudder) of Maryland Heights. Jerry was up front about his HIV status and extremely protective of me. While there was intimacy there was no sex. I still recall us sitting on the couch watching television, his head resting on my chest and his hands running over it saying how that if we lived in the time of the cavemen he would be envied by all of the cave women. Not a day went by for almost three years that he didn't tell me he was happy that he was with me or how much he loved me. And I felt the same towards him and told him so. When his health began to decline he told me he always wanted to be married, so I contacted my friend Patrick who was in seminary in Chicago and asked him if he would come perform the ceremony. Jerry and his mother planned something simple. We rented a small park and held the ceremony and reception there. I can still picture him... he couldn't stand for long periods of time so he was in a wheel chair. We said our own vows (damn I hate tears), kissed, and presented to the assembly as a couple (given that we had been one for two years at that point notwithstanding). The next day we were off to Orlando for the honeymoon (Jerry loved Disneyworld) and then over to New Orleans. It worn him down but he loved every second of it... and God bless my company, they gave me time off even though at the time there wasn't anything like domestic partnership at the time (Israelies have a very large and inclusive concept of what makes a family).
Fast forward.
Jerry's health declined despite my working with some of the best in the field, no expense spared, to find something... anything... that would help. He became blind, he couldn't walk from the car to the movie theatre (he loved movies). We had a nurse come in a couple of days a week and his mother was there all the time so I could work. And then one day the call came... his nurse said I needed to come home. I remember getting the call in my downtown office. Beth, the lady who was my mentor as a DBA was with me when it came. She grabbed my truck keys off the table, mashed them into my hand and said "Go". When I arrived the nurse and Jerry's mom were there. Jerry was in bed, drenched with sweat and unresponsive. We said very little as they both left the bedroom. I remember closing the door, telling him that I was there. He was laying on his side facing the wall, breathing shallow and extremely rapid. There was a small bowl with cool water and a sponge. I lightly covered his head and face with the water, then stripped down and put on my pajama bottoms and crawled into bed with him, snuggling up as close to him as possible, slipping my right arm under him neck, pressing my body up to his as much as I dared in the hopes of him knowing I was there. I talked to him, telling him how happy I had been and how selfish of me to want him to stay, but that it was time for him to go, that his work was done and that it was time for him to rest. He breathing seemed to slow and I could feel him sort of sink into my body. His left hand, which I had been cradling in my right hand, squeezed, and then he stopped breathing. There were medical directives in place for no extraordinary efforts so I didn't call for the nurse. I cried. We lay there for a couple of minutes. I checked for a pulse in his wrist and his neck and found none. I remember kissing his cheek, wiping the tears from my eyes on the bed sheet, getting out of bed, putting my clothes back on and going out to tell his mom and the nurse. We said very little. The nurse called the time of death, his mom started with the funeral preparations (they had been made even before I met Jerry). The next few days were a blur. I vaguely remember the funeral, speaking at the service, then completely breaking down and crying on the coffin after the people had left building. Again the company showed how it valued me by giving me bereavement leave (they told me I would have made a good "sabra" because I was tough and prickly on the outside but sweet and tender on the inside). Jerry was buried with his wedding band... I still have mine, along with the memories of his smile and his laugh. He was 25 when he died. Lately I have been looking at the small memorial at Doorways Memorial.
So many things to learn about myself. I was devastated, quite a broken man in fact. I read C. S. Lewis' "A Grief Observed" a few dozen times in the ensuing weeks and learned how it is alright to scream and yell at God. I did so often, both inside my head and out in the park where were we married.
I am by nature a caretaker and in this episode of my life I was shown for the first time that there are just some things that are beyond my own considerable abilities. This problem has plagued me to the present day and I think "Jerry" is trying to tell me to be careful. I'm lonely. It would be so easy to find a broken person that needed help and fall for them with the desire to help them (dangerously close to codependency... can anyone give me Melody Beattie's phone number?). I also, for one of the few times in my life, was given back as much as I gave. Not a day went by for as long as he was able that Jerry did not hug me, squeeze me, or at least tell me that he loved me.
Perhaps Nietzsche was right and time is circular (stolen from the Greeks of course... all good things are Greek *snicker*). I feel like this pattern keeps coming over and over again... but maybe it is time to take my Platonic view of things and sprinkle in a little Hinduism and start working off the "karmic debt" by learning from my past problems. That is what I am trying to do. I still make mistakes, I wield my newly acquired self-knowledge like a battle ax rather than a surgeon's scalpel. But time and opportunity to practice is what I need. Hopefully I will have both.
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