| A death in the family
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It's been a while since my last newsletter. As some of you know, my beloved of nearly twenty years passed over suddenly at the end of June of a burst brain aneurysm. If there are no mistakes, however utterly devastating it seemed to me and to his children, Life has its reasons and his work here was complete. The rest of us must discover the lessons embedded in learning to move forward without him. I cannot possibly write this newsletter without commenting on the phenomenon of sudden death, with which some of you may already be familiar. A bowl of oatmeal was the last thing we shared. He went outside to work around the house, I went to my home office. Later I heard my son-in-law hollering, then I realized it was my name he was calling, "Call 911!!" No last words exchanged, no looks, no reminiscenses, no promises. Just oatmeal. The sense of devastation, when one of two people who spend most of everyday within shouting distance suddenly leaves this dimension for another one, is like no other experience. No matter how warm and perfect the day, an internal cold stops the breath. My skin suddenly felt too small...and numb. The nervous system can't take it in immediately, but still I sat, then stood, I walked and was surprised that the faces in the hospital didn't seem to understand that the world had ended. When the better angels of my nature are in residence, I'm grateful that he's at peace and creating in a new dimension. When my own loss is at the forefront, the litany of tasks left to me, even beyond grieving the loss, feel insurmountable. And I thank you for the blessings that were sent to us by those of you who knew of our loss. The attending physician indicated that autopsies reveal harmless brain aneurysms in 30% of us. The number I get intuitively is somewhat lower: 15%. They are usually small and never cause problems. (What would show up on an intuitive scan would be an aneurysm that was increasing in size.) They can sometimes be dealt with surgically and successfully if treated before they become too large. My husband was extraordinarily intuitive, and I realize now that on some level, he sensed that something was up for him, and he refused to let me do scans for him as I had always done. A designer/builder, he was exhausted by the housing recession. For the first time in his life could not see his way to move forward, and felt that he had done all he could here in other areas as well. God speed. He will be missed so much by so many for so long. |