Writing in this blog is another way I am trying to cope, especially today, with a flood of memories that have come since a few days before Valentine's Day. Ed and I never went all out for Valentine's Day, just exchanging cards, an occasional gift, and always a nice dinner at home. This past one really hit me hard nevertheless. I was a crying mess at that week's support group meeting when the facilitator asked us how we were handling the hype. I think it was because the last card I ever got from Ed was Valentine's Day last year. To get through the day, I and several of my support group friends, who were also struggling with all the hype beforehand and the actual day, e-mailed each other all day long to boost our spirits.
Now today, I have come to one of the "first anniversaries." One year ago today, we were preparing for a six-day trip to Iowa to paint Melissa and Mark's newly finished basement family room. I was looking out the front window in the loft, watching Ed put our trash can out for the next morning's pickup, after which we would start our drive to Iowa. What I saw is so vivid in my mind now. He was limping, badly, favoring his right side. When he came inside, he said he thought he must have pulled a groin muscle lifting the garage door because he hadn't felt anything prior to that. Although our double garage door is on an automatic opener, the single door has to be opened manually, so it seemed possible that's what happened. Since it didn't bother him to sit, we decided that a good night's rest, some ice and some Advil would help, and we would still make the trip. The next morning we debated again but still decided to make the trip. Ed even took the first couple hours of driving. When we stopped for lunch in Champaign, IL, he was in severe pain when walking and could barely walk to get lunch. We talked about just turning back, but once again since he could sit and even drive comfortably, we kept on going. The entire time we were in Iowa, he sat in an easy chair; he just could not stand or walk without discomfort, even with taking Advil and using ice. He joked that it was a good thing the Big Ten basketball tournament was on TV to keep him occupied since he couldn't help paint. He made it to the basement twice while we were there to see how the room was coming along. Mostly we all waited on him so he wouldn't have to move around much. He seemed to feel a little bit better after a few days of inactivity. Once we got back home, we scheduled a visit to a GP for the next day. That was the start of many trips to various specialists. The GP also thought it was possible that he pulled a groin muscle or that he had arthritis in his hip, but he wanted to do other tests, too, starting with a urologist to check for prostate cancer. He gave Ed a pain pill to take and arthritis medication to try. The pain pill helped; Ed didn't like the way the Celebrex affected him and he stopped taking it after a few doses.
I really do not believe that losing a week before getting to a doctor made any difference. We obviously didn't know that the pain in Ed's hip was from the deterioration the cancer had already caused as it spread. The doctor never guessed that it was renal cell carcinoma because Ed had absolutely no symptoms of that. The urologist wasn't thinking that either, and first treated Ed for a urinary infection while waiting for test results for prostate cancer, which were negative.
I won't go into any more detail now. It's just been not the best day today even though I have tried to keep busy and not dwell on the memories that have come flooding back. Last night I had a dozen people from the support group here for supper; we had two weeks "off" between sessions, but some of us still like to get together on those off Wednesdays mainly for the companionship and the chance to talk about more than just dealing with our grief. I thought having these friends here would help me handle today, and e-mails from a couple of them today have helped. But I was painfully aware of how empty the house felt when they all left at 10 last night.
Thursday of last week, I finally got down to Cincinnati to see my sister-in-law Maryellen and niece Pat (technically Ed's niece, but she still calls me Aunt Joni, and I like that). I was finally able to deliver the family tree I created with Bob's picture and his kids' and grandkids' names, just like the one I gave everyone at Christmas with Ed's photo and names, showing the research that Ed had done back several generations. I know both Maryellen and Pat appreciated having it. We had a nice, long, lots-of-talking lunch together that I think was good for all of us. We are all still grieving the loss of both brothers--it's still so hard to believe they could both be gone within months of each other. I also had a little alone time with Pat that was good for both of us, too, I think. Kirk, Pat's husband, even made it home from work early, and with their daughter and son getting home from school, it was so pleasant to be with them all.
Some days in the past two months, I have thought that maybe I don't need the support group as much anymore, though I would definitely want to stay in touch with the friends I've made. But facing the "anniversaries" is something others in the group have talked about that I can relate to, so I will be going back for another eight weeks. If I find I'm doing OK or the issues we talk about are becoming repetitive rather than helpful, I can always stop going, or just go occasionally for "booster shots," as the facilitators call them.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Friday, February 1, 2008
Will's Baptism
It has taken me a while to get to writing about Will's baptism. January 20 was the date, held at St. Jude's church in Cedar Rapids after the 11 a.m. Mass. Melissa waited until after Mass to dress Will in his white knit outfit. He looks so good in white (no bias there, of course). The godparents were Melissa's good friend Jill King (now Versteeg) and Mark's brother Matt Wehr, the maid of honor and best man from Melissa and Mark's wedding. There were two other babies being baptized also, which disappointed Melissa a little because she wanted this to be a special occasion focused on Will. Of the three babies, Will had the most traditional name, William James. He was fascinated, I think, by most of the ceremony, crying only a very little towards the end--probably because he was getting hungry. Will loves his bath, so having water poured over his head was no problem. The priest got a little heavy-handed with the holy chrism, smearing it all over Will's head. A couple of us joked that maybe it would cure Will's "cradle cap" dry skin problem.
Afterwards, our group went back to the house for a very nice luncheon together. Besides Melissa, Mark, Will, and me, there were Mark's parents Jim and Marna, Melissa's Dad Jim and Peggy, Jill and her husband Todd, Matt, and Mark's sister Michelle. Although my mother and sister would have liked to be there, the weather and my Mom's health were issues. That weekend, Cedar Rapids had actual temperatures below zero and a high on that Sunday of only 4 degrees. Marie had decided well before the date that Cedar Rapids in January was likely to be too cold for her liking and, moreso, too hard on our mother. Having to change planes at O'Hare is always anybody's guess as to whether or not there will be a jetway to and from the planes--and my Mom would never be able to handle those tiny steps of a regional jet nor be able to walk any distance within the airport. Melissa had Todd record the baptism, so Great-Grandma and Great Aunt Marie (she always knew she was a "great" aunt) and family can at least watch a DVD of the event.
Normally, I would have slipped right into the role of hostess at the house and been the clean-up person, but this time, others had to get the food out and do the cleaning afterwards. On Saturday evening while getting up from playing with Will on the floor, I reached to pick him up and twisted the wrong way. I should have immediately put ice on my back and quit doing things for the rest of the night, but there were still things to be done to be ready for the luncheon, so I kept at them. Big mistake. During the night I was in horrendous pain, and I knew I had a severe muscle spasm in the same spot as when I hurt my back taking care of Ed. I was in pain, despite lots of Advil and alternating ice and heat, all day and night Sunday and Monday. On Tuesday, Melissa dropped me off at the airport at 8 a.m., and I suffered my way through the flying. Of course, that happened to be the day that O'Hare shut down for several hours--the weather was cold but sunny and no one could tell me the reason for the shut down. That meant my flight out of Cedar Rapids was cancelled, the next flight I was on sat on the runway for two hours, my connection to Columbus was nowhere to be found on the board at O'Hare, and the next flight I was put on was delayed for 5 hours. I finally pulled into my garage at exactly midnight. Sitting on those planes and having to walk back and forth from B concourse to C concourse at O'Hare a couple of times because of gate changes was not exactly what my back needed, to say the least. Pity the people who had to sit near me; they were treated to the menthol smell of Icy Hot that I was rubbing on my back every hour (yes, it does come in a small enough tube that is permitted to be carried onboard a plane).
My back is partly the reason I haven't written in the blog. Sitting at the computer--in fact sitting anywhere--has not been the most comfortable position for me since I got back home. It has taken over a week to get that muscle spasm worked out. It wasn't as severe as when I hurt myself in May, but it still is giving me a little bit of a problem. Of course, having this happen is one of those triggers that bring back painful memories of what Ed was going through at the time. I haven't exactly been the cheeriest person these days. I haven't had to ask anybody to come help me because of my back, but the prospect looms that something could happen to me when I would need help, and it scares me to think I might be in a situation where I can't get to a phone. Guess I need to pay more attention to those Medic Alert ads.
So I'm having many roller coaster days lately, sometimes finding things to smile about and then not so much. I'm back to grading SAT essays until February 12, so that will keep me occupied for a while. With the cold weather keeping people indoors and my neighbors the Morgans being gone for January and February to a warmer climate, I don't have a whole lot of human, face-to-face contact right now. That really emphasizes the feelings of loneliness and missing Ed so much. Once again, thank goodness for the weekly support group.
Afterwards, our group went back to the house for a very nice luncheon together. Besides Melissa, Mark, Will, and me, there were Mark's parents Jim and Marna, Melissa's Dad Jim and Peggy, Jill and her husband Todd, Matt, and Mark's sister Michelle. Although my mother and sister would have liked to be there, the weather and my Mom's health were issues. That weekend, Cedar Rapids had actual temperatures below zero and a high on that Sunday of only 4 degrees. Marie had decided well before the date that Cedar Rapids in January was likely to be too cold for her liking and, moreso, too hard on our mother. Having to change planes at O'Hare is always anybody's guess as to whether or not there will be a jetway to and from the planes--and my Mom would never be able to handle those tiny steps of a regional jet nor be able to walk any distance within the airport. Melissa had Todd record the baptism, so Great-Grandma and Great Aunt Marie (she always knew she was a "great" aunt) and family can at least watch a DVD of the event.
Normally, I would have slipped right into the role of hostess at the house and been the clean-up person, but this time, others had to get the food out and do the cleaning afterwards. On Saturday evening while getting up from playing with Will on the floor, I reached to pick him up and twisted the wrong way. I should have immediately put ice on my back and quit doing things for the rest of the night, but there were still things to be done to be ready for the luncheon, so I kept at them. Big mistake. During the night I was in horrendous pain, and I knew I had a severe muscle spasm in the same spot as when I hurt my back taking care of Ed. I was in pain, despite lots of Advil and alternating ice and heat, all day and night Sunday and Monday. On Tuesday, Melissa dropped me off at the airport at 8 a.m., and I suffered my way through the flying. Of course, that happened to be the day that O'Hare shut down for several hours--the weather was cold but sunny and no one could tell me the reason for the shut down. That meant my flight out of Cedar Rapids was cancelled, the next flight I was on sat on the runway for two hours, my connection to Columbus was nowhere to be found on the board at O'Hare, and the next flight I was put on was delayed for 5 hours. I finally pulled into my garage at exactly midnight. Sitting on those planes and having to walk back and forth from B concourse to C concourse at O'Hare a couple of times because of gate changes was not exactly what my back needed, to say the least. Pity the people who had to sit near me; they were treated to the menthol smell of Icy Hot that I was rubbing on my back every hour (yes, it does come in a small enough tube that is permitted to be carried onboard a plane).
My back is partly the reason I haven't written in the blog. Sitting at the computer--in fact sitting anywhere--has not been the most comfortable position for me since I got back home. It has taken over a week to get that muscle spasm worked out. It wasn't as severe as when I hurt myself in May, but it still is giving me a little bit of a problem. Of course, having this happen is one of those triggers that bring back painful memories of what Ed was going through at the time. I haven't exactly been the cheeriest person these days. I haven't had to ask anybody to come help me because of my back, but the prospect looms that something could happen to me when I would need help, and it scares me to think I might be in a situation where I can't get to a phone. Guess I need to pay more attention to those Medic Alert ads.
So I'm having many roller coaster days lately, sometimes finding things to smile about and then not so much. I'm back to grading SAT essays until February 12, so that will keep me occupied for a while. With the cold weather keeping people indoors and my neighbors the Morgans being gone for January and February to a warmer climate, I don't have a whole lot of human, face-to-face contact right now. That really emphasizes the feelings of loneliness and missing Ed so much. Once again, thank goodness for the weekly support group.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Such good neighbors and friends
I haven't said often enough what good neighbors I have, but the latest episode of help from a neighbor reminds me to express my gratitude and appreciation. When I returned from my Christmas trip to Iowa, I discovered that the small, ornamental peach tree in the backyard had been blown over, with the trunk breaking off from the roots. Luckily, I had always kept it trimmed so that it wasn't tall enough to reach the sunroom when it fell in that direction. Although there is a chain saw in the garage, I wasn't about to try to use it myself. I wasn't having much luck finding help to get the tree cut up. Last Sunday and Monday when we had some unusually warm days, I went out with my pruning saw and some clippers and "denuded" the tree of its twigs and smaller branches. While I worked on that, my across-the-street neighbor Mike came over to see what was going on. He doesn't have his own chain saw and wasn't comfortable trying ours, but he expressed his concern and tried to come up with suggestions for what I could do. Then, at my support group Wednesday evening, I chatted with Debbie, one of my friends there, and told her what happened with the tree. Thursday morning, she forwarded three e-mails to me with names and phone numbers of people who would help me with the tree; she had posted a note on the Hilliard School District (where she works) internal bulletin board about my need and had responses within minutes. I planned to call one of those contacts today--except before I could do that, my tree was gone! My backyard neighbor, Todd, was outside about to use his chain saw on his own fallen tree branches but came over to my yard first. Not only did he cut up the remaining limbs and trunk, he removed everything and put it with his own branches to dispose of so I wouldn't have that problem to deal with. How grateful I am to him!
Not only that, on Thursday I woke up to a cold house; it turned out the computerized blower control board in the furnace had shorted out. When my across-the-street neighbor Diana saw how long the repair van was in my driveway, she called to make sure I was OK and to invite me over until I had heat again. It wasn't necessary to do that, but I do appreciate her concern. Likewise, my next-door neighbors Bill and Ann Morgan have brought me homemade food, check on me when they haven't seen me for a day or so, look after the house when I'm gone, and are always ready to chat and keep me company. Neighbor Sherry, also a widow, is always up for a chat, too, and always asks how Will is doing and asks to see his latest photos. They all make me feel so blessed to have them as neighbors and friends. I just needed to put that in writing.
Not only that, on Thursday I woke up to a cold house; it turned out the computerized blower control board in the furnace had shorted out. When my across-the-street neighbor Diana saw how long the repair van was in my driveway, she called to make sure I was OK and to invite me over until I had heat again. It wasn't necessary to do that, but I do appreciate her concern. Likewise, my next-door neighbors Bill and Ann Morgan have brought me homemade food, check on me when they haven't seen me for a day or so, look after the house when I'm gone, and are always ready to chat and keep me company. Neighbor Sherry, also a widow, is always up for a chat, too, and always asks how Will is doing and asks to see his latest photos. They all make me feel so blessed to have them as neighbors and friends. I just needed to put that in writing.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Christmas week
The week before Christmas, a support group friend said, "I just want it to be over." I didn't feel that way, nor did I feel dread as Christmas approached. I just felt a deep sadness because Christmas was always a big deal to us. I mostly was anxious for Ed's kids to have the gift I made them--a family tree that reflected all the research he had done, representing seven generations from his grandkids back through the ancestors from Germany. I designed it and had it printed, then I framed it, making one for each of the six kids and one for myself. I so wanted to give them something that would feel like it came from him.
The Giesman gathering at Becky and Tim's house on Sunday, December 23, seemed to go so fast with hardly a chance to catch up with everybody. Then on Monday morning, I flew to Cedar Rapids. There, too, it felt like a whirlwind of things to do to get ready for Santa's arrival and for the Christmas buffet (all appetizer foods) on Christmas Day, a tradition that we started when Melissa was little. Will was the cute baby you'd expect a three-month-old to be; he was very good in church Christmas Eve, captivating the people around us with his smiles. Santa was very good to us all, and having Mark's family join us for the buffet capped off a very nice Christmas Day.
Melissa and Mark both worked on Thursday, so Grammy and Will spent the day together. Will is now almost 14 1/2 pounds, and carrying him around and especially stooping while holding him reminded me that my knees don't like to do such things too often. We both did just fine, however, and Melissa really didn't need to call every few hours to check on us. The week went quickly, probably because I was so occupied the whole time doing things with Melissa and Mark and Will and Mark's family.
Overall, this Christmas included familiar things and traditions--though I never did put up the Christmas tree--as well as some new wrinkles. Ed and I always said Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were supposed to be for the kids being with their own families, and he and I would gather them at another time during the holiday season. I felt so guilty for having "violated" our guideline by going to Melissa's for Christmas Eve. My support group friends' response to that guilt was that because Melissa invited me and wanted me there, I had permission to disregard our guideline and it wasn't any kind of betrayal. That didn't stop the feeling I had, however. But now, as I think back on past years, I realize that in 2005 we had the Giesman gathering here on December 24, and I remember people staying until pretty late. So I guess I needn't feel guilty about the timing of my trip.
Today I went to the Columbus Museum of Art to see the special Monet exhibit. I don't claim to be schooled in art, but I have always appreciated paintings from the era of Impressionism. It was the only kind of art exhibit Ed could get interested in seeing, probably because he knew how much I liked that. A couple of Christmases ago, Ed got me a print of one of Monet's most famous paintings, and the following Christmas, I had it beautifully framed and gave it to him. So it seemed fitting to close out this Christmas week looking at some art that stirs my soul and reminds me of some things we shared.
The Giesman gathering at Becky and Tim's house on Sunday, December 23, seemed to go so fast with hardly a chance to catch up with everybody. Then on Monday morning, I flew to Cedar Rapids. There, too, it felt like a whirlwind of things to do to get ready for Santa's arrival and for the Christmas buffet (all appetizer foods) on Christmas Day, a tradition that we started when Melissa was little. Will was the cute baby you'd expect a three-month-old to be; he was very good in church Christmas Eve, captivating the people around us with his smiles. Santa was very good to us all, and having Mark's family join us for the buffet capped off a very nice Christmas Day.
Melissa and Mark both worked on Thursday, so Grammy and Will spent the day together. Will is now almost 14 1/2 pounds, and carrying him around and especially stooping while holding him reminded me that my knees don't like to do such things too often. We both did just fine, however, and Melissa really didn't need to call every few hours to check on us. The week went quickly, probably because I was so occupied the whole time doing things with Melissa and Mark and Will and Mark's family.
Overall, this Christmas included familiar things and traditions--though I never did put up the Christmas tree--as well as some new wrinkles. Ed and I always said Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were supposed to be for the kids being with their own families, and he and I would gather them at another time during the holiday season. I felt so guilty for having "violated" our guideline by going to Melissa's for Christmas Eve. My support group friends' response to that guilt was that because Melissa invited me and wanted me there, I had permission to disregard our guideline and it wasn't any kind of betrayal. That didn't stop the feeling I had, however. But now, as I think back on past years, I realize that in 2005 we had the Giesman gathering here on December 24, and I remember people staying until pretty late. So I guess I needn't feel guilty about the timing of my trip.
Today I went to the Columbus Museum of Art to see the special Monet exhibit. I don't claim to be schooled in art, but I have always appreciated paintings from the era of Impressionism. It was the only kind of art exhibit Ed could get interested in seeing, probably because he knew how much I liked that. A couple of Christmases ago, Ed got me a print of one of Monet's most famous paintings, and the following Christmas, I had it beautifully framed and gave it to him. So it seemed fitting to close out this Christmas week looking at some art that stirs my soul and reminds me of some things we shared.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Another memorial service
This evening I attended a memorial service held at the chapel at Sunset Cemetery, where Ed is buried. It was brief but beautiful. This was the first time the cemetery offered this event, and the response was far beyond their expectations. There must have been 200 people there. It was standing room only inside the chapel. It was a dark and dreary night because we are having several days of rain, especially dark because there is no illumination along the cemetery roads; but the entrance to the cemetery and the driveway to the chapel were lined with luminaries, and it was beautiful and kind of comforting for me. Staff were located strategically to guide the traffic and get everyone parked near the chapel. They had golf carts to ferry people from their cars to the chapel if they did not want to walk. Inside, there was a Christmas tree simply decorated with gold ribbon and ornaments, and a very large candle, which some children in attendance helped light. A minister from Potters House of God in Columbus spoke informally but meaningfully, and a couple of times his words brought tears to my eyes. The ornament I received as a remembrance is silverplate, a flat circular style, with the center being a candle at whose base are holly berries and leaves. The bottom is inscribed
In Loving Memory
Ed Giesman
7/3/1935 - 6/16/2007
At one point, the minister asked us all to join in singing one verse of Amazing Grace, which everyone did. I never would have thought that an assembly of people who never saw or heard of each other before would sing out in 4-part harmony, but we did. It was touching and beautiful, so much so that the minister asked us to do it again--and we did. He closed with a prayer, having us hold hands with the people on each side of us; that too was comforting to me.
It's really rough trying to share in the joy of the holiday. I still have not put up any Christmas decorations. The only thing I did do was put out the PEACE sign we always put out as part of our outdoor Christmas decorations for the past 10 years. But wouldn't you know it, now it won't light up. So I have brought it back inside, and I plan to sit with it as Ed did so many times with strings of lights, testing each bulb until I find the culprit that is keeping it from lighting. I hope I have as much patience with it as he did. Perhaps this new ornament will be the impetus to get out some Christmas decor. As much as we both loved Christmas decorating and music and shopping (me more than Ed on that one) and gathering with family and friends, I really do need to honor that.
In Loving Memory
Ed Giesman
7/3/1935 - 6/16/2007
At one point, the minister asked us all to join in singing one verse of Amazing Grace, which everyone did. I never would have thought that an assembly of people who never saw or heard of each other before would sing out in 4-part harmony, but we did. It was touching and beautiful, so much so that the minister asked us to do it again--and we did. He closed with a prayer, having us hold hands with the people on each side of us; that too was comforting to me.
It's really rough trying to share in the joy of the holiday. I still have not put up any Christmas decorations. The only thing I did do was put out the PEACE sign we always put out as part of our outdoor Christmas decorations for the past 10 years. But wouldn't you know it, now it won't light up. So I have brought it back inside, and I plan to sit with it as Ed did so many times with strings of lights, testing each bulb until I find the culprit that is keeping it from lighting. I hope I have as much patience with it as he did. Perhaps this new ornament will be the impetus to get out some Christmas decor. As much as we both loved Christmas decorating and music and shopping (me more than Ed on that one) and gathering with family and friends, I really do need to honor that.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Bob Giesman's Memorial Service
Yesterday afternoon, Bob's memorial service was held at Norwood Presbyterian Church, just down the street from Bob and Maryellen's home. It included tributes that really captured who Bob was. A long-time work friend, a 30+ years' poker buddy, the minister, and Maryellen all spoke about his sense of humor, quick wit, love of pulling pranks, his love for his family and commitment to provide for them, and his devotion to his work. His daughter Pat wrote a fitting poem about laughter. Pat's emotion seeped through a little as she read her poem, but she reined it in and made it through just fine. Who truly amazed me was Maryellen. She related some anecdotes about Bob's pranks and humor and kept her composure throughout. I don't know where she found the strength to do that so eloquently although she told me before the service that she was determined to try. After 44 years of marriage, she knew Bob better than anyone, so maybe that gave her the courage. What makes this amazing is that Maryellen has always had a difficult time being around people and socializing, much preferring to keep to herself. Speaking in public is not something people would expect of her, and certainly not under these circumstances. But she did it, and I'm proud of her and Pat. I didn't look around at the crowd in church, but afterwards in the fellowship hall, there seemed to be so many people. I couldn't estimate the size of the group (Ed was much better at that than I am), but I think we pretty much filled the small church. Pat said they ordered food for 100 people; there must have been that many or more.
There was only one part of the service when I sort of broke down. I anticipated that Ed would be mentioned at some point and thought I had prepared myself for that, but these details were not what I expected to hear and so they got to me: The minister, Rev. Chris White, related how for years and years Ed and Bob sent each other the same birthday card back and forth each year. What she didn't say was that each year the sender would add some humorous, sometimes slightly insulting comment about the difference in their ages. (Ed was 7 years and 8 months older than Bob.) Every centimeter of that card--front, back, inside--was covered with comments. Part of the fun they had in recent years was finding where the new comment was "hiding." Bob relished pointing out that Ed was now 8 years older as of his latest birthday, and Ed always reminded Bob that they were back to 7 1/2 years when Bob's birthday approached. Each of the guys had one year when they couldn't find the card. For Ed, it was after we moved from Norwalk, IA, to Bartlett, IL, and Bob's March 29 birthday had come. Ed searched and searched but couldn't find the card. So he bought a new card and re-started this "tradition" with profuse apologies. By chance (typical that you find what you're looking for when you're not looking for it), Ed found the card and mailed it belatedly. The same happened with Bob--finally finding it and sending it belatedly. At Ed's viewing, Bob placed the card in Ed's casket. He told me it was his turn to receive it. (This was on June 19 and Ed's birthday was July 3.) I didn't ask Bob if he added this year's comment to the card nor did I disturb it once he placed it beside Ed. I think I remember there was more than just the card there, but whatever it was, I know it represented the bond between the Giesman brothers.
As I had the opportunity yesterday, I tried to be a comfort to Maryellen, Brenda, Pat and Kirk, Lisa, Bobby and Dawn (I still am not used to calling him Robert or Bob), Amy, and Steven--most especially to Maryellen. Besides being at Bob's memorial service with Ed's 6 "kids," being with the extended family gave me such a feeling of comfort. I'm so grateful to still be welcomed and thought about by such wonderful people. I know there's a danger in naming names because, at a time when you're a little distraught, you may not remember everyone you talked with, but here goes. Aunt Jinny Runk, cousins Fred and Sandy, Karen and Stan, Jim and Vivian, and Tommy, plus Ed's long-time friends Larry and Tom, were all so warm towards me that it helped me hold myself together when all during the week I had been pretty much falling apart at any time of day. I didn't want to draw attention to myself at this gathering by breaking down. My support group, who had been asking me each week how Bob was doing, told me that my setback was obvious on Wednesday evening. I knew it because I was back to not sleeping well as well as crying so much. They offered their support and hugs that night, and I confess I really needed that. Melissa had been bearing the brunt of supporting me through this sorrow over Bob and the re-awakening of the loss of Ed, and once again I felt guilty about burdening her so much. The support group reminded me, however, that although I feel as though I've lost a lot of the progress I had made in learning to live with grief, I have had the experience of getting better and I will get back to that place, maybe more quickly this time than before.
It's heartening to find out that people are still checking this blog for updates and look forward to reading what I write. The phrase "makes me feel connected" came up a couple of times yesterday in my conversations with the cousins. Guess I should have warned you all that this entry would be a long, tear-filled one.
There was only one part of the service when I sort of broke down. I anticipated that Ed would be mentioned at some point and thought I had prepared myself for that, but these details were not what I expected to hear and so they got to me: The minister, Rev. Chris White, related how for years and years Ed and Bob sent each other the same birthday card back and forth each year. What she didn't say was that each year the sender would add some humorous, sometimes slightly insulting comment about the difference in their ages. (Ed was 7 years and 8 months older than Bob.) Every centimeter of that card--front, back, inside--was covered with comments. Part of the fun they had in recent years was finding where the new comment was "hiding." Bob relished pointing out that Ed was now 8 years older as of his latest birthday, and Ed always reminded Bob that they were back to 7 1/2 years when Bob's birthday approached. Each of the guys had one year when they couldn't find the card. For Ed, it was after we moved from Norwalk, IA, to Bartlett, IL, and Bob's March 29 birthday had come. Ed searched and searched but couldn't find the card. So he bought a new card and re-started this "tradition" with profuse apologies. By chance (typical that you find what you're looking for when you're not looking for it), Ed found the card and mailed it belatedly. The same happened with Bob--finally finding it and sending it belatedly. At Ed's viewing, Bob placed the card in Ed's casket. He told me it was his turn to receive it. (This was on June 19 and Ed's birthday was July 3.) I didn't ask Bob if he added this year's comment to the card nor did I disturb it once he placed it beside Ed. I think I remember there was more than just the card there, but whatever it was, I know it represented the bond between the Giesman brothers.
As I had the opportunity yesterday, I tried to be a comfort to Maryellen, Brenda, Pat and Kirk, Lisa, Bobby and Dawn (I still am not used to calling him Robert or Bob), Amy, and Steven--most especially to Maryellen. Besides being at Bob's memorial service with Ed's 6 "kids," being with the extended family gave me such a feeling of comfort. I'm so grateful to still be welcomed and thought about by such wonderful people. I know there's a danger in naming names because, at a time when you're a little distraught, you may not remember everyone you talked with, but here goes. Aunt Jinny Runk, cousins Fred and Sandy, Karen and Stan, Jim and Vivian, and Tommy, plus Ed's long-time friends Larry and Tom, were all so warm towards me that it helped me hold myself together when all during the week I had been pretty much falling apart at any time of day. I didn't want to draw attention to myself at this gathering by breaking down. My support group, who had been asking me each week how Bob was doing, told me that my setback was obvious on Wednesday evening. I knew it because I was back to not sleeping well as well as crying so much. They offered their support and hugs that night, and I confess I really needed that. Melissa had been bearing the brunt of supporting me through this sorrow over Bob and the re-awakening of the loss of Ed, and once again I felt guilty about burdening her so much. The support group reminded me, however, that although I feel as though I've lost a lot of the progress I had made in learning to live with grief, I have had the experience of getting better and I will get back to that place, maybe more quickly this time than before.
It's heartening to find out that people are still checking this blog for updates and look forward to reading what I write. The phrase "makes me feel connected" came up a couple of times yesterday in my conversations with the cousins. Guess I should have warned you all that this entry would be a long, tear-filled one.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Bob's passing
To all you who read this blog, I ask you to say a prayer for the repose of the soul of Bob Giesman, who died peacefully tonight at home, and for strength and peace for his family.
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