Guest Blog... Un Invitado, Un Amigo

The last two weeks of February, we welcomed a great old friend from Wisconsin. He decided in December that he would come. It was an invitation we had issued to him and his wife a year or two earlier.  His wife passed away last September, victim of a horrible crime.  We so wish they could have enjoyed this place together, and that part is sad. But we still had some enjoyable times together, the 3 of us, plus Chiquitita, doing things around Isla, and even working in a quick trip to Merida.

D. said it would be okay to share his journaling, and in fact, he likes people to read his writing. It is therapy, both to write, and to receive commentary.  It's a window into his world, and I appreciate that.
----Warning!  Some of this is intense & personal.  Pass on it if you don't want to touch base with real world drama...

Feb 23, 2011

This is a recovery file.  I brought Ramblings along on a memory stick and used Kris’ laptop to add to it here in Mexico.  MS Word was not working on this computer so I tried the generic typing program to add to Ramblings and it worked.  It worked for 8 days, and then … “Sorry, this file is in the wrong format.”  I got Word working and tried to access the file from Word, but no luck.  I hope I can somehow recover all that I have added for the past week, but just in case, I am going to re-type what I can remember of my thoughts and feelings for the past 8 days.

Feb 13, 2011

My arrival in Cancun did not go as expected.  Steve had been in WI for the past week and was flying in today, too, but on a different flight, with his 3 year old granddaughter in tow.  He arrived in Cancun 20 minutes before me, so I was to look for him in the lobby right past customs.  I looked, and looked, and looked.  No Steve.  Finally I went outside and looked, and looked.  Perhaps his flight was delayed.  Whatever the situation I had little choice but to wait, which I did -- for an hour.  Finally I remembered my cell phone (Hey, it was hot and I was tired.)  Oh, crap, my phone doesn’t work here. Then an airport security guard told me that Frontier Airline uses terminal 3, not 2 where I was.  So I took a shuttle bus over to terminal 3 and looked, and looked, for 20 minutes.  Well, maybe has figured out the terminal difference and has gone to #2 to look for me.  So back I went.  It has now been 2 hours and I realized we might be here all day if I don’t call him.  A taxi guy said I could use his phone, but “It needs more minutes.”   So I bought him a phone card for 8 bucks and called Steve, who was, as I thought, at terminal 2 looking for me.  He was as frustrated as confused as I was.  But when we connected and I stood joking and laughing with my friend the tension evaporated.

Feb 15, 2011

My morning walk is now along the Caribbean seashore.  The Sauer’s little house is not far from Punta Sur, the south point of Isla Mujeres.  There is a small park at the point, which is the most eastern point of Mexico, which means if you stand at the point in early morning you are the first person in Mexico to see the sun rise in Mexico.  This point is one of nature’s little jewels.  The authorities have thoughtfully created a concrete walkway all around the point below the bluff, just 6 or 8 feet above the water.  For me, standing there with the waves crashing against the island under broad, blue sky, with the sun about to peek over the horizon is an almost spiritual experience.       And then two other people came to church.  A man and his adult son came down and stood beside me waiting to be the first people in Mexico to see the sun that day.  I have to confess that just as the curtain rose on sunrise my competitive spirit made me take one step forward.

The park has a large gazebo/pergola and as I observed its construction I remembered that Sandy and I always, always, walked to the center of every gazebo we ever saw and had a romantic embrace and kiss. And tears started streaming down my face.  I almost walked away, but something inside me pushed me into that gazebo  --  Oh, God, why is this so hard to write about?  --  and I closed my eyes and hugged and kissed my sweetheart.   – Shit, I can hardly write this.  --  and she kissed me and said she loved me.   – Kleenex break --  This is the second time I have written this and it’s still tearing me up.

Feb 16, 2011

The juice man just pulled up on his motorcycle and honked.  I bought 1 liter of orange and 1 liter of grapefruit for $2.40 each.  This is 100% pure juice, fresh squeezed today.  My first swallow took me back to my childhood.   Nobody under the age of 40 knows what real, fresh orange juice tastes like.  Sunny D is a total fake.  Even the so-called “real” juices in the cardboard cartons have been processed and many are from a concentrate and if it has been trucked across the country and sat on a store shelf for several days, it ain’t fresh.  The juice here is so good that I drink it in small sips so that every molecule of juice can shake hands with a taste bud.

Feb 17, 2011

About 12:30 Steve and I decided take the golf cart to town for lunch.  The 15 minute drive brought us to the small, but authentic Cubano’s café, which was full.  So we walked to the bank where Steve took care of some business and then we walked back to Cubano’s which was still full.  So we walked to Steve’s favorite watering hole to get a beer and guacamole.  The beer was 2 for 1 so we each had 2 beers and spent about 45 minutes shooting the breeze.  We walked back to the café just in time to get the one empty table where we had a Cuban sandwich and another beer.  By the time we got home from lunch it was 4 o’clock.   And so it goes in Mexico.

Feb 20, 2011

Landmarks:  1. I said “She’s gone. She’s not coming back.  Get on with your life.” for the 1000^th time.   1000 more might get me close to acceptance.     2. I recently went almost three days without crying.

I learned long ago that there is a big difference between understanding something intellectually and making it become part of who you are.   It is one thing to “know” something.  It is quite another matter to live it.

Sometimes when I am considering doing something and wishing Sandy were here to do it with me, I think, “Sandy would want me to do this and enjoy it.”  My friends often say this same thing.  And it’s true, she would want that.  But that’s not the only reason to do something.  I enjoy many things myself.  Yes, it’s fun to share experience with others, but I have in the past and still do enjoy many things on my own. I already had a sense of humor and a sense of fun and a sense of adventure before I met Sandy.  The challenge before me is to keep those senses alive as I build a new normal.

Feb 21, 2011

Today Kris said, “It’s a little windier than usual.”  She has said that every day for the past 7 days.  We walk or ride a golf cart to get around and I can tell you from experience, combing your hair here is a waste of time.            Three year old Sophie is a joy to have around, mostly.  She is bright and talkative, but not a chatterbox.  She is cute and when she smiles you can’t help but smile back.  She is pretty easy to have around for a three.  Of course, she has a few 3 year old moments each day, usually in the form of wanting something she can’t have.  “I want to see mommy.”  “Sophie, mommy is in Wisconsin.”  “I want to see mommy.”  I think she understands that mommy isn’t available right now, but at the moment her director-of-wants is in control and is completely disregarding all knowledge.       I know the feeling.   I know it well.

Feb 23, 2011

Yesterday Steve and I had our “two beers & guac” in the afternoon, while Kris and Sophie took a nap.  Then the 4 of us rode the golf cart to Lancheros, a nice beachside restaurant, with most of their tables on the sand under the palms.  It’s a good place to watch the sunset.  The adults had a beer while Sophie played on the slide.  Then we moved on to The Patio, a new café/bar downtown, which has a sand-filled back yard with tables and trees and tonight, live music.  We had another drink and ceviche, raw fish “cooked” in a lime sauce with fresh salsa.       Back home a six-pack of beer lasts me a week.   Here I consume 3 or 4 beers a day and sometimes throw in a margarita for good measure.  And by the time I get home I will have doubled the total amount of guacamole I have eaten in my life.

Feb 24, 2011

I don’t feel like talking today.

Feb 25, 2011

Wed afternoon we rented a car and drove to Merida, an old cultural center on the other side of the Yucatan peninsula.  Merida is a clean, charming city of approx. one million.  Stayed for two nights at the Caribe hotel right in the middle of old town.  Thursday we enjoyed museums, took a bus tour, ate a lot, attended a live concert in a small plaza, and had an evening drink on a balcony overlooking one of the main squares.  Sophie was a patient little trooper as the adults dragged her around.  It was a wonderful day.             This morning I awoke early and lounged in bed.  My mind wanted to think of Sandy and how she would have loved this experience, but I resisted.  Crying is not a fun way to start the day.  I lost the struggle and had my cry which was, it seemed, two days worth.   Don’t let this light-hearted description of my grief episodes fool you.  During every cry I still say aloud, “Oh, God. I miss you so much, Sandy,” and I shake as the tears flow.  The struggle between emotion and rational thinking continues.  There is a civil war going on inside me.  I am confident that the two sides can work it out and produce a new normal, but I think that’s down the road a ways yet.

Feb 26, 2011

night   hot   humid   restless   dawn   wind   cry   Sandy   my Sandy   gone  miss   walk  rain   music   Sandy’s favorite   cry   shit   love   miss   loud music   tears   sun   friends   adventure   love   hate   sad   sobbing   kids   home   share   gone   miss   can’t be   is   fuck   tv   romantic comedy   like us   tears   lonely   sea   waves   71 years old   3 years old   mom   wife   kids   pain   love   here   gone   can’t be   is   life   hope   cry   sob   music   heal please   god?   love   miss   hate   kill him   no   go on   help   good   friends   family   molly   marc   richard   rae ann   jim   rick   learn   hope   cry   bad day   sun   food   home   oh god, i miss her soooo much.   can’t stop crying   john denver   Sandymusic   smile   i really hope she is right and she is in a better place (although We were in a very good place here) and i hope we will be together again.   But not for a while.  I want to finish my turn.  Wow, i haven’t had a cry this long since the first week.

Now it’s afternoon, had a nap, feelin’ pretty good.  The roller coaster continues.  We are off to see the hacienda of Mundaca, the pirate, a 19^th century local celebrity.
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 break----------------- It's been just a week since Denny left and he emailed the remaining portion of his journal, which he finished after he got back home.   All in all, it's a nice recounting of his time here, a little slice of life here, mixed in with rather emotional things he's going through.  But, one can see and appreciate his way of working through things, and learn to be so appreciative of every day.
Thanks for sharing, and for all the lessons we can learn from you both. His tag line, which is on every email he has sent for years now:
              -'Every day, learn a little, help a little, have a little fun.'    What great advice.
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Feb. 27, 2011

On the drive home from the airport I smiled as I went by the bowling alley in Lake Geneva.  Sandy did not enjoy bowling.  She would go with me reluctantly once or twice a year, but she was a good sport about it as she was about  everything.  The Lake Geneva Lanes are right on highway 50 so we drove by there often and every once in a  while I would suggest  that we stop in and bowl a few games.   I was teasing and she knew I was teasing.  She would smile and say something like, "Yes, one of these  days."     I really miss teasing her.   Teasing was one of the little ways we showed affection for each other and we did it often, me more than her.   I really, really miss teasing her.   Oh, crap, here come the tears again.   --------------    O.K., that was a short one.      I miss walking up behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist and giving her a hug and a kiss on the neck.  I miss the smell of her hair.  I miss our quiet conversation in bed in the morning.  I  miss the enthusiastic tone in her voice when she asked me if I want to go to a play or a movie (The answer was always yes.)  I miss the silly little pranks we played on each other.  Once I found a golf ball in the yard and I put it in one of the shoes I thought she would be wearing the next day.  She did wear those shoes, but she didn't say anything about the ball.  The next morning when I opened my cereal box there was the ball.  That ball appeared and reappeared in several places around our condo over the next few days.  We often did silly stuff like that.  When we had two cars, one of the license plates said "2 SILLYS".   I did not realize until I met Sandy how important a sense of humor is in a relationship.  It doesn't matter if you both have the same type of sense of humor; but it is important that you each enjoy the other's sense of humor.  The big adventures we had are not what I miss.   I just had a big adventure in Mexico without Sandy and I had a good time with my friends.  My sense of adventure is still healthy.  What I miss the most is those little daily doses of Sandy.  Nobody to tease.  Nobody to play pranks on.  Nobody to watch Boston Legal with.   Nobody to smile at me a dozen times a day.  Nobody  to hug.                                                    I love you, Babe.   You.  Me.  Forever.

Mar 1, 2011

Went to Bible Study group this morning.  I can't remember if I explained this before, but this is a group Sandy joined two years ago and I declined.  After Sandy's death I went to one meeting to thank them for their personal support.  Several of them had been really helpful, bringing meals and helping with the memorial service.   I discovered that they don't just sit around praying and spouting Bible verses for an hour.  They discuss life issues with a Christian perspective and the discussions are interesting.  We share personal experiences, feelings and concerns.  I really enjoy this and look forward to being part of the group each week.  Today there were only five of us, not the usual 10 or 12, but we still had a lively and meaningful discussion.

The temperature is 40 degrees and the sun is shining as I walk into Walmart.  After this long, drab, moody winter I feel like I have come out of the dark ages and am ready to meet the world again.  I went to the Sharon bank to take care of some business for Sandy's Fund.  On the way home I had a small cry.  Otherwise, it has been a good day.

Mar 2, 2011

Observations:    1. This journal started as an outlet for my feelings, but somewhere along the way it evolved into something for others  to read.    2. I still sleep on the same side of the bed that I did when Sandy was here.  The first night I grabbed our engagement picture off the dresser and put it on her pillow where it stayed for two weeks.    3. I stay up at night later than we used to.     4. Even when I sound calm in this writing I am often quite emotional and on the edge of tears.     5. "You.  Me.  Forever." was something I told Sandy from time to time to reassure her (She had a little trust issue from past experiences.)  And I put it at the bottom of all the greeting cards I gave her - and I meant it.     6. I still love life.  I want as much of it as I can get.

Mar 3, 2011

One more observation:  It's obvious and it's true - the greater the love the greater the loss.  For most couples, after the initial glow and excitement of the courtship has faded, you are satisfied if your mate accepts you for who you are and is generally pleasant and respectful to you.  And if that happens, both ways, you do have a pretty good relationship.  But the love that Sandy and I had for each other went far beyond that in its breadth and depth.  We not only accepted each other for who we were; we each reveled in the kind of person the other was.   She didn't just tolerate my silly sense of humor, she loved it and returned it in kind.  I loved her pro-active nature, even when she coaxed me into situations I wasn't too enthused about (and I almost always ended up enjoying them).  We were both dedicated to making the other as happy as he/she made us.  And that meant avoiding anything that would make our spouse feel bad.  We hardly ever criticized each other and when we did it was never in a scolding way.  Sandy was the queen of spill, but I quickly cleaned up each carpet stain without comment.  She put so much joy into my life I didn't want to hurt her feelings about anything.  After eleven years together we were both still very dedicated to making the other happy on a daily basis. You wouldn't believe how many times a day we smiled at each other.  I think our relationship was the envy of most couples we knew.   Picture the most wonderful, loving, caring, fun-filled relationship that your imagination is capable of.    We had that.    --    That's what I lost.

Oh, boy.  I held up pretty well through that last paragraph, until near the end.  Now the tears come.

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