Currently I am holed up in my bedroom. I’m hiding really. I’m thinking about not leaving this bed until they come and take his body from the living room. The shell that’s left is not my Chris. My Chris decided to leave here this morning, pretty soon after I had gotten to work. Before I left him this morning, I kissed his forehead and told him not to hang on for us. I told him to let go. We’ll be fine with out him. It’s the first lie I’ve ever told him.
I look around me and just can’t fathom. How? Why? What? I know at one point through this I remember saying if he has to go, please let it be quick and painless. I just didn’t realize how quick. Silly and selfish really. I had a month to prepare for death. Most people don’t even get that. Still, I feel at loose ends. Not sure really what the next step should be. So instead I’ve decided to hide on my bed with my laptop and write a blog entry. My comforter is blue. It’s like a raft and I’m not leaving here. Not just yet.
There’s no protocol for this. No step 1. So I’m making this up as I go. Step 1: Stay on this bed as long as I fucking can. The floor is lava. Step 2: Figure out all the other steps later. Some where in the protocol there is a spot for gratuitous profanity. Hell, fuck, damn, shit, mother fucker. I just broke my first rule and got off the bed to get out something for him to wear. It was only for a second. Burned my feet just a bit, but I’ll be OK. I’ll be OK.
I’m not a weeper or wailer type of person. I never have been. I’ve cried and shed my tears, but right now I’m all dried up. That may seem a bit heartless and cold. That’s fine because I feel a bit heartless and cold. Remember, there’s no protocol and I get to make it up as I go. I will say that I am so glad I called his mom when I did. I glad that she was here to say goodbye. I did that right.
But I’m not leaving this bed until they take his body. I’m just not.
You might have to throw some pillows on the floor to keep your feet from burning so that you can make it to the bathroom. Other than that, you stay on that bed until you are darn good and ready.
I was thinking that I did need to pee. I turned down an offer for a glass of water because I kind of already needed to go.
Maybe I’ll name another cockroach today. Maybe that’s what I’ll do.
Todd got in touch with me about an hour ago and let me know. Cindy–I wish I could be there. I’d handle all the pissy little details for you and take care of it all. I love you and miss you so so much that typing these words just can’t capture it.
This is just how I feel too. I’ve been just thinking for the past few days that I wish there were a teleporter so that I could be right there.
1 word, bedpan. Totally acceptable under the no protocol protocol that’s in place. I’m so so glad you said goodbye and I love you on your blue comforter magic island.
Cindy I am so sorry. Ever since I saw this on facebook, i have been quietly following hoping and praying for you both….. I just wanted to tell you that and i know we haven’t talked in years, but if you need anything I would be glad to help.
Sometimes there just is no protocol! Sometimes you really do get to make it up as you go. There is no protocol on my end either. Don’t know what to do or how to help! Although, I’m pretty sure I’ve taken hold of your tear ducts! Nothing like loading an 80 well gel with tears dripping into the buffer!
I’m so sorry, Cindy. You may stay where you will. And may Chris wing his way about the universe in joy.
Cindy I’m so sorry… I agree with no protocol. I don’t really know what to say, but I’m here with whatever you need and I love you.
Cindy, I am so very sorry….words can’t even express my feelings. Please know I am thinking of you…..
I am sitting on my bed too. Crying. Thinking of you two.
We didn’t spend much time together, other than a few backyard gazeebo nights with our mutual Misti, but I grew to love you two through your writing and FaceSpace posts. And this last month, you’ve both been on my mind so much.
No words other than love and light………..
I’m so sorry.
Whit
It pained me to read that Chris had passed. Remember that he is no longer in pain. I’ll be praying for you.
i want to swear, but I’m not sure who reads these comments that it might offend. I’ll swear loudly in my office instead, and cry.
I am so sorry, Cindy. Gah, it was so fast, such a horrible thing cancer is, a dirty rotten mfer.
Stay on your island til you’re damn good and ready.
You are not cold and heartless; you are in shock. Because no matter how well we prepare for this eventuality, we are never prepared when the moment comes. Take your time only you know what you need and when.
You are in our prayers. I know your not Catholic but I’ll say a rosary for you today that God will envelope you in His love. For now, hide, swear, eat crappy food, punch the pillows and whatever you need to do… You’re allowed. Though Chris is gone, I’m sure he is still close. love you!
Cindy! I am so sorry! We love you.
[...] RIP, Chris. [...]
Hey Cindy ,
I am so sorry …. For some reason I have been checking your blog more than once today looking for news…but this is not what i wanted to hear….
I don’t know you but I will send you a tight tight hug …not the type that makes you want to let go and cry but the typ ethat gives you strentgh , that reminds you that you have so many friends thinking of you , the kind that plays to the tune of your strength… the kind that constantly repeats ” we can do this ” , we will be here with you and love you unconditionally, we, all of us here , are with you on your blue island…
lots of love from a stranger ( that must be the best purest kind )
A
Tiffany just told me about Chris. I am so very sorry. You are spot on: there is no protocol. Please take care, and though it’s been years, please do not hesitate to ask if there is anything I can do to help.
Our biggest love and thoughts…. I know it’s not enough to give. But fully and always… In our hearts.
Any and all words seem worthless and/or pointless at such news. Miranda’s and my thoughts are with you.
Cindy, I sit in my car with tears streaming for you as I read your blog. Venus wrote me this morning to tell me thehorrible news and I found myself with such regret. I inboxed Chris periodically on FB to chit chat but now that doesn’t seem to have been enough. He was a great person, a great friend and he will be missed. You will continue to be in my thoughts. As Chris would say, CURSES!!!!
So sorry, from a complete stranger. Know that many, many people are thinking of you and wishing they could make it better.
[...] bummed about: the fact that Cindy lost her husband Chris this morning, a scant month after his diagnosis of Poorly Differentiated [...]
the lava around you is hissing, there are so many tears from all of us falling on it. not enough to cool it, but dropping down, plink, hiss. so indescribably sorry. do whatever you damn well please, when you please, and may the well be deep enough to hold your tears when they do come.
Dear God, Cindy. We’re thinking of you. A lot.
Peace and healing on this path of the unknown. – signed a complete stranger
You don’t know me but I am tearing up and I’m very sorry for your loss. You get to do whatever you want for as long as you want to. That’s the protocol.
I’ve been sitting here, staring at the blinking cursor for five minutes, unsure what to say. Just know that that there are lots of us out here who send their love and support.
Oh baby. Do what you need and stay where you need to as long as you want. I’m sending you my love and strength.
Dammit. Big internet hugs for you. Take care of yourself.
No words can make you feel better right now or in the days to come…but know that my heart hurts for you. Love…
You have more grace than anyone I have ever know. I think that you are smart, kind, wise, and so beautiful. My heart is absolutely broken into pieces. He was amazing. And I know he loved you.
Everyone who ever met you knew it.
I’m so sorry. I was friends with Chris and Misti at USAO. I know it doesn’t make the pain go away, but know there are many who are thinking of you and remembering Chris as a sweet friend. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
Cindy, I want to express how much I feel for you now. Chris was a very special and amazing guy who always knew how to make any situation fun and quirky. I can’t imagine how it is right now, but I want you to know that I have always cared deeply for both of you, no matter what else was going on. It is hard to think of how the world will be with a Chris in it, but I know it was lucky to have had him as long as it did. My thoughts are with you.
Cindy, thinking about you. I know his first night high in the universe will be spectacular! Im sad for you and its a little hard to breathe.
Cindy — We only knew each other briefly at OSU (and mostly through Tiff), but my heart aches for you. What you are feeling is exactly what you should feel. One of my best friends lost her husband to a brain tumor over a year ago now. Actually, they were married for a little less than a year. I spent that year of cancer with her–mostly on the phone, through text messages, and emails. This last year we spent grieving and growing–a lot of visits over weekends and more phone calls and emails. Days spent in bed are necessary. Just know that what’s under your raft is all the energy that you so eloquently describe and have so emphatically given to others. Under that raft is what we’re trying to give to you to show you that even though you may not feel it or see it, that we’re with you. Chris is with you. Let us carry you as long as you need us.
Cindy, I knew Chris as a fellow Oklahoma blogger-friend through leaving comments on each others blogs years ago. However, I’m happy to say I came to know Chris better by reading your blog entries in years since. Since I believe we are all part of one energy, I thank you for sharing the good spirit he (and you) exposed. Best wishes for your peace and healing.
I am so sorry. So sorry. Whatever you choose to do is absolutely okay. If you need anything at all, say the word. You are loved.
Cindy, I am so sorry. I have been thinking of you both so much these last few weeks. I love you.
Cindy,
I stumbled upon your blog awhile ago by some long forgotten convoluted links. Anyway, I just want to say as an outsider looking in, it’s very clear to me that your Chris was a wonderful man, and you are both loved very, very much. He was obviously very special, and he chose you to love, which means you must be pretty damn special too. May peace be with you both.
Cindy,
I am so sorry for your loss. Know that you are in my thoughts and prayers and extending deep and heartfelt sympathy to you and your family.
I want to press all the love in the world into you right now. Press. Press. Press.
Fuck shit.