Thursday, November 13, 2008


I had no idea that I would recount the last days with my darling Tom. Here I am in California with my mother. I have not shared this until now. I am moved to do so. It is simply the title.........remembering.


  1. you may be finally able now to remember the details as they occurred during this traumatic perod of time. i believe we grieve in stages, somehow intuitively aware of how much we can handle at any moment.

    perhaps this documentation of memory is another way to say goodbye?

    i must say that reading unleashes so many feelings in me, such compassion. the knowledge of moving in and out of reality, shifting into a place where we robotically exist in the moment, is something i remember at various places in my own life. it is the robot who gets us through those moments when the pain is so intense it would bring us to our knees if we fully acknowledged it. i think we feel it in increments, in various doses that allow us to survive it, to actually breathe.

    oh, suzann, i am deeply sorry at the loss you describe so often in this journal, and happy that you have traveled so far as you forge this new life you are living, always with the memory and love of tom, but now with all the hopes of tomorrow.

    hugs my friend...and love.

  2. Why?

    When I chronicled my version of this unutterable pain it was so that my children would have answers to their questions when they finally asked them.

    But really, it was for myself: I needed to tell the story, the sacred story. Sometimes I go back and read and weep; other times, I see the words on the screen and I refuse to read them, to let them be anything but words; other times, I just look at the dates and say, "Oh, Nick."

    Apart from telling the story as part of the work of grief, I think it is also important to chronicle those last steps we took together as husband and wife. Great love brought us to that point; great love brought us through that point; great love will bring us together beyond all points.

    I hold you closely in my heart.

  3. Suzann,
    we did talk about it in the evenings back in August - when alone:
    Our memories of our premium beloved ones will allways appear.

    Guess, I talk with Ruben every day and night. Crazy? hmm. that's how it is.
    And when I lit the Candle Light on All Saints Evening at the Graveyard - well - it ended up with a Day off working. The Grief took overhand....

    I do not pity myself - I think it natural reaction -like you have.

    I do think the difference is:
    We are strong enough to talk and write about our griefs.
    Thus helping others.