Was My Husband Cheating? Susan K Clisby HOMEWRECKER

My darling husband died in June. Almost every week someone would leave a red or pink rose on his grave. Once the absolute numbness of losing him wore off and I began to take notice of the things around me, I began asking family and friends if THEY had left a rose. Always the same answer…. No.
It continued. 
Late summer, Fall and even the dead of winter. Every time I went to visit and grieve for my husband, a rose was there. It truly began to make me feel upset and uncomfortable. My husband's grave was all I had of him. That and our precious memories. Why would someone intrude on that?
Time passed. Life went on. Days came and went. The grief was always there waiting to bubble up at a song, a smell or a memory. 

3 Months later, I had posted a blog about my sadness and grief. 
It was less than 4 days later I got this note in the mail:

Lana

I stumbled across your website a couple of years ago.

Your videos and blog actually made me throw up in my mouth!

Nobody cares what you wore to the funeral. You are a Martyr widow. Nobody cares that you wore black gloves. But, really, my dear, long black gloves in 90 degree weather? A big fine from The Fashion Police. You are not a movie star or royalty so come down off your high horse. Your story about the "five dots" just makes you delusional. You and your DEAD husband had seperate lives. At least HENRY did, if you get what I mean.

Personally, you are Trailer Trash and the perfect example of how money can't buy you class.

Henry deserved better.

I was shocked, hurt and stunned. 
What kind of woman writes a note like that just to hurt? I have always been an advocate and strong supporter of women. 
Writing a note to criticize what I wore to put my husband in the ground for eternity? Why would she even care? 
Was my husband cheating on me? 
I didn't ever feel that he was. We were happy together and in love.
I never had that "gut" feeling. We were together almost constantly.
Even if he was cheating on me,  what she was doing was nothing more than mean and so cruel!
I had no proof. I had no peace.
I began to suspect everyone! Stranger's that smiled at me in the grocery store. People I didn't know that added me on FaceBook. 
Even friends. I felt as though I was in a bubble and just the slightest thing could burst it and I would disappear completely. 
I had to know. My close friends volunteered to go stake out the cemetery. All I wanted was a name. A face.


The roses continued.
I placed our wedding picture in a beautiful frame and had it waterproofed and placed it lovingly at his tombstone.
Our Wedding….A happier time and place.  
The picture disappeared.
Still the roses came.
I went to winter at my Florida home in the sunshine. Henry never far from my heart and mind.
I returned. More fresh roses lying on my husbands grave in the sweet smell of newly cut grass and Indiana sunshine.

In late June this year, I decided to hell with my humiliation. What did it matter anyway? Isn't catching and exposing this person more important  than feeling embarrassed and humiliated? I was hurt enough. Nothing he/she could ever do could hurt as much as losing my sweet Henry so I began asking friends what they would do? I also posted a YouTube video explaining it all.

After a lengthy discussion my good friend Kevin told me to place a deer camera on a tree in the cemetery to catch whoever it was. 
A what?
I never knew they had such a thing…..
He helped me choose one and place it in the proper place near my husband's grave.
More later……

Some Help From Heaven

Ok, let's see if I can write this without breaking down completely....

After my husband died, each of his three sons  came to me to ask if they could have his Rolex watch. 
The fact that there are 3 boys and only one watch and I had bought it for him as a Christmas gift, I told each of them that I would rather keep it myself. 
It broke my heart to turn them down. They were hurting just as bad as I was. They lost their dad/best friend/boss after all. 

It was a decision I would later regret....

After my husband died, I had moved, re-arranged my life, made adjustments. Learned to cope.
I paid off my house, moved, bought two cars, made decisions I hadn't had to make in many years. My husband did it all.
He was gone.

I had to have some small construction done in my Florida home. I hired a crew to do the work. All was going ok.
The house seemed alive with people.
The men were in and out of my house every day beginning at 7:00 a.m. to end of day.
One of the men from the construction crew saw and remarked on my husbands beautiful watch. 
"Wow, that's one pretty watch."  He declared when he saw it as he passed through the Master Suite where I had placed it the night before.

I made a quick mental note to hide it in the house or to take it to my safe deposit box.... The landline phone rang...  the conversation forgotten  as I ran to answer it in the bustle of the buzzing saws and hammering noises of the construction going on in the next room.

That night,  as I lay in bed reflecting on the happenings of the day, I remembered and as I raced to check on it,  the watch was gone! Gone!
Disappeared from the place it was just that morning. 
My heart sank.

I immediately called the police. 
A flood of regret washed over me. My beautiful husband's watch on another man's arm? Lost? Missing. 
I felt so broken. 
Why hadn't I given it to one of the boys? At least then it would be safe. Treasured. Still in the hands of those that love my husband not some stranger.

Sadly, the police took my information, filed a report and told me they would do what they could to trace it if it showed up in a pawn shop but warned me that the chances were slim of ever getting it back. 

The owner of the construction company had nothing to offer in the way of help either. I had no proof. There was only my suspicion that the young man that had asked about it had actually taken it.  
My chances of ever seeing that watch again were slim to none.
I felt so hopeless.

I can't do anything right!
Who allows their deceased husband's watch to be stolen from their own home????

I had many things of my husband's that evoked so many sweet memories of him but I could squeeze my eyes shut real tight and SEE that watch on his big strong arm when he was alive and healthy. 
The bright shiny gold would glitter in the sun as we would walk hand in hand into church on a beautiful Sunday morning. Out to dinner and I would see it on his wrist in the dim light of a candlelit restaurant as he reached across the table to grasp my hand. Every night I would see it on his side of the bed carefully placed on the night stand ready to be worn to the office as he rushed out the door.

Weeks passed then months. No word from the Florida State Police Department. Nothing. 
Not a day passed by that I would not think of my husband and his missing watch. It was eating my soul to know I had let it slip away.
Gone.

My husband's birthday was approaching.  May 6.
His first birthday away from me. All I could do was cry. 
I miss him so much. Every day.

 May 6, 2013
I went to the cemetery in the morning. As I stood there in the early light of the beautiful spring day, I told my husband what had happened. Explained my stupidity. Not just about the watch but many other stupid things I have done in the months since he passed.

I slowly drove home. Going to the cemetery was my way of going to "visit" my husband and it always made me feel sad but slightly better to know he was lying there waiting for me... someday. 
We share a headstone.  

When I arrived home, my phone rang. 
Pinellas County Police Department. 
They found the watch!!!

What? Really? How?

The person that stole it had posted it for sale on Craigslist. 
It was posted at 11:30 p.m. and it was recovered by midnight and on it's way back to me via USPS overnight. 

I got my husband's precious watch back and will watch over it like it's Fort Knox from now on. 
I don't believe that the deceased can see ALL we do but I believe they do know what is bothering us.  
To get that watch returned at all was a miracle. To get it back on my husband's birthday confirms that to me. I was beating my self up every single day for letting it slip away from me. 

Rest in Peace Sweet Henry. Every second that ticks by on your precious watch reminds me of you.
 I love and miss you so much.

Here is the Craigslist posting that the police were able to trace to the stolen watch:

NEW Skin Care. Anti-Aging

The Power of Love Part 1

The Power of Love

I'm sorry I haven't made a YouTube video in such a long time. My heart hasn't been in it lately but I will return.
That's not why I'm writing today. I want to tell of you of the sweetest love story I know. One that makes me cry while typing this out.

In October a few years back I wrote about my beautiful friend Candy and her survival story of Breast Cancer. 
Sadly she passed away last week. 
She won and fought for so long. Her breast cancer showed it's ugly face when she was in her 30's. After her mastectomy, she had breast reconstruction surgery. The plastic surgeon tunneled fat from her tummy and formed a new breast from that fat. 
All was wonderful.
She was alive and felt whole again after the dreadful loss of a breast. (All of us as women know how painful a loss  that would be)
28 years later, about a year ago,  Candy began experiencing horrible pain in her stomach. The cancer had a trail to go to and it was now in her stomach lining. She was in for the fight of her life. She went thru chemo and more chemo. So much chemo that her fingertips turned black and were numb. She lost her hair and it grew back, more chemo and gone again.
Finally, her doctors told her there was nothing more they could do. They sent her home with a morphine pump and a bag to go to the bathroom in....

Candy had been married for years to the man of her heart. Her soulmate Dan. She loved him with all of her being. He loved his booze and other illegal things.  They divorced but Candy never stopped  her love and affection for Dan. She did everything to mend the relationship but it was not to be. Dan loved her too but had other loves.

The doctors told hospice no more food or water for Candy. She would lie in bed wracked in pain and ask about her one love, Dan.
For 5 weeks Candy hung on. There was no medical reason for her to still be here. Still be on Earth, still alive, still loving Dan.
Every day she asked for him. 

The doctors and nurses were amazed she was still clinging to life.

Everyone would say, "What is she waiting for?"

She was waiting for Dan!

Last week Candy took her last breath. Her beautiful heart stopped beating. 
When we knew she was gone, we were all so sad but so relieved she was no longer suffering. No longer in pain....
She was gone.
We got the call later that night that Dan had died. 
6 hours after Candy took her last breath at home. Dan died in a hospital emergency room 2 miles away from liver failure. 
Candy was waiting on Dan.
The most ironic part of all.....
They both died on their wedding anniversary!
Their daughter Dani lost her mother and her father all in one night.
6 hours apart.

I truly believe in my heart that Candy waited on Dan. Her heart knew he would need her where they were going. I believe and all of her family and friends believe that her love for him waited to hold his hand and take him to eternity together.
I write this sobbing. 
A more pure love story could not be made up like this. I think love can be as strong as the Heaven's.

Next time I write I want to tell you how my darling husband helped me from his grave. It was like he was guiding me. Helping me. I'm too emotional right now to tell it all but it's a powerful love story too.
Until next time... 
Cherish those you love like there's no tomorrow. 

I love you all. 

Vampire Face Lift

Vampire Face Lift

So, I did a video a week or so ago after being away from YouTube for well over a year.
It was very liberating and fun! 
I was back.
I missed all of you so much and especially missed the "friendships" that I have developed thru the years on the web with all of you.
I truly did miss you and thought of you many times. But... I digress.

The first video back, I was a nervous wreck. 
Would I still be able to sit in my bathroom in front of my little "Flip-Cam" and talk to you in coherent sentences? 

I did it!
I was back.
I can do it and loved doing it. The interactions from you are what I missed most. Sweet, beautiful comments and so much love! 
I was back.

Being caretaker to a dying loved one can and will take it's toll. You hair goes dull, your mind loses it's sharpness.  Your looks go hollow.
You can either gain or lose weight.
I gained! Boy did I gain!

Then... he died.
I lost.
I lost so much including weight.

My features seemed to crumble and when I looked in the mirror 6 months later, I didn't even recognize myself. 
After my husband's death, I was convinced I had less than 6 months to live. 
I planned my funeral down to the last detail. Gave  my boys explicit instructions on what to do with my estate and all of my worldly possessions.
I was going to be gone anyway, why bother with living? Why buy anything or worry about how I looked. 
My clothes hung off me by now. 
I had lost 35 pounds by the time I finally woke up!
Who was I anymore?

I decided I needed outside help STAT!
After being in Florida, I went to see a wonderful doctor and his work seemed to be a miracle in my life. 
I am not going to die!
I am 57 years old. I have a lot of living to do. 
I joined a gym. 
I made an appointment at a Rejuva spa and my entire outlook changed that day. 
I was back!!

The doctor told me of a procedure that uses your own blood and spins it down to a serum of platelet rich plasma that he injects into your face to fill in hollows and form an under the skin roadmap to rebuild valuable collagen and a network of Fibrin Matrix under the skin. 

In one simple sentence....
Within one to three months of treatment, Selphyl reverses the ravages of time. Damage from age and weather begin to disappear.
They call this the Vampire Face Lift because it uses your own blood to give you a non-surgical facelift!

Here's how it went for me:
I agreed to to have my doctor perform the procedure. He asked me if I wanted a Dental Block for the pain? 
Uhmmm. Yes!
He injected a numbing agent into the gum line on top and bottom. 3 shots to the gums upper and 3 shots to the lower and my entire mouth was numb. I felt as if I had eaten a case of frozen Popscicles. 
While that was taking effect he took 3 vials of blood from my arm. No pain no gain, right?

The blood vials he puts into a centrifuge (looks like a toaster oven) to spin the blood to a clear serum. The precious vials of clear liquid he sets on a sterile tray.
By now, my mouth has no feeling. 
My tongue. 
Is it dangling out of the corner of my face? 
I haven't got a clue. I can't feel a thing.
In a series of quick shots with many needles (probably 50) he injects my own cells back into me only now into my haggard face. 
Nothing foreign. It's all mine!
He explains that it will be days or even weeks before I see results. The network of stem cells are in place and can begin doing their job. 
My mouth and face are numb. I look like I stuck my face into a very large bee hive on a sunny day and got the crap stung out of me. 

I get no real instructions except not to use my Clairsonic for 24 hours. 

Total cost?
$1200.00
One more dose in two months at half that price.
$600.00
________ 
$1,800.00 to rewind your face 10- 15 years?
Some bruising that fades each day but is easily covered with a good concealer.
I go back to work the next day.

2 Weeks Later:
Every day I wake up and see a subtle difference. It's not really like a filler but it's more a softening of your face. 
This morning I looked in the mirror and said to my reflection there,
"Well, Hello! Who are you?
Where did you come from? 
I don't know but I like you!"
I am back!

I am very pleased with the results and will go back in 4 weeks for the 2nd round. Results generally last 3 years. 
That's a long time. 3 years.
I hope this answers any questions you may have. I will drag my camera along on my next visit and film it. 
I love you all. xo

Working Girl

Hello Again My Lovely and Beautiful Friends.

Not because I am broke or in debt, I am going back to work. 

My husband insured I would be taken care of long into my 90's and beyond. 
He simply didn't want me to have to depend on a man for support in any way. I'm happy he did that for me not because of the money but because of the independence and freedom to go and do what I want and need to do. I have several girlfriends that lost their beloved husbands only to lose their homes and lifestyles as well. 

The house in Key Largo sold. It was to be mine for a year. I gave it up as soon as I was able to physically get on a plane and manage the move. 
It was hard. So many memories there. Beautiful memories of a time when we were happy and healthy.
It's hard to go from being happily married to suddenly single.
Had my husband left me for another woman I could have tried to get him back. Fought for him. Begged, pleaded and worked to keep him close and mine. 
He didn't leave me for another woman. 
He died. 
He left me to save a spot for me at his side in Heaven. 

I know he's near me daily. I see him every time the sun rises in the morning. When the Florida wind kicks up and I feel the soft breeze on my face... I know he's there. Beside me. 
I fought. I fought hard for him to stay here but God wanted him there. 
I begged and pleaded and worked so hard to keep him with me.
I made deals with God. God had other plans for a great man.
Who am I to argue with God?

I bought a new house closer to my son here in Florida. I am keeping my Indiana home and will fly back and forth.  Being here has been healing for me. 
Anyway, I am doing well. 
Not 100% yet but it will come. 
I applied to three airlines and am going back to flying. It's my passion. One doesn't work simply because they are broke. 
I love to work. Sitting and staring at walls all day gets very old and extremely exhausting. I may be 57 years old but I am far from dead! 
I love people and feel I still have plenty to offer this planet so off to work I go.

Getting up in the morning and having a plan is very liberating. 
Sure, with all of the money my husband left me, I could shop and lunch with friends all day. Buy exotic cars, travel the world, drip myself in diamonds but that is simply not me. 

I love you all and will do videos soon. I miss my YouTube channel but the time just hasn't felt right. It will. 

I have found that all things good come in due time when the timing is right.
Love and Peace,
Lana

"No Cry" Days

The old saying is that a widow should not buy anything or sell anything for a year after her husbands death. No major decisions to made within that 365 day exile. 
Blah.
So... I tried that for 3 months. It blows!
What? Sit and look at walls? Wear black for months and go to the cemetery? Not smile or chat or laugh?
I did all that too.
It's exhausting and it does nothing more than cement into your skull that your man is gone. It is all a constant reminder of sadness. Don't get me wrong. I am sad. I cry on people.
Oh Lord do I cry on poor unsuspecting people!

I went to see my dentist. I had neglected most everything about myself so it was time. My dentist is also a friend. He entered the exam room with my x-rays in hand, said hello, touched my arm and in 1.3 seconds, I was blubbering all over his scrub-shirt. Not just the pretty tears that fall from your eyes like in movies but the full-on sobbing UGLY cry. 
(I may have to switch dentists now I am so embarrassed)
Same with my Priest. My postman. My Veterinarian.  The cashier at the grocery...
The list goes on, I am sorry to say.
Hey.. I think I we get a pass when we lose a loved one. 
So, back to better news...
I decided to break all of the rules of being a widow.
I always claimed to be a "rule-breaker" so why stop now?
I'm done caring if people in my community judge me for crying too much. 
I hear them whispering... 
"Oh look, she cries too much. Her black dress is so big on her. She looks awful. Her eyes are red.
She's lost weight. She's aged 10 years."

Oh, Bite Me!

If people have so much to say about YOUR life... That says very little about their own, right?

Words to live by.
I haven't got all the answers on how to act or what to do. I never have! We just do what we can. Life is short. I plan on living each and every day in honor of my husband but to the fullest.
So... 
I ran away from home!
It's so liberating. I am going back in a week.
Don't want to but have to...
Some of Henry's old football players from the Denver Broncos and basketball buddies from Purdue are honoring him with a benefit memorial. All proceeds will go to the Purdue Athletic Department in his name. It will be a sad and emotional day but I have my Big Girl Panties all picked out and laid out for that day. 
I can DO this and I will. 
Oh and I bought a new car. My dream car. 
I thought it would make me happy. Things don't make you happy. People do. 
I have amazing people in my life.
I am so blessed.
More later.

I Love You.

Is it Ever Okay to Lie?

Every morning, no matter how ill or how much pain, Henry would get up and go to the office. It was his focus. Good for him to keep his mind off what was going on inside his wracked body. Neither of us knew.

He had refused to go to a doctor for a scope or scan or test. He had had it and I don't blame him. Surgery to deform him with no guarantee? No thanks. Maybe buy him 3 more months but no tongue, no voice, no face?

Our friends would ask me daily "How is he? What's going on? Is he ok? Is the cancer gone?"

My classic answer.... "I don't know. I am his nurse and the internet is our doctor."

The internet is a handy tool for quick solutions to simple problems but try diving into it deeply for REAL answers to real health issues. You can be lost in all of it and come away more confused than ever.

Nothing I could say or do would change his mind to see a medical professional. I ranted, raged, pleaded, begged, bargained.

Please?

No.

So on we went. Marching forward thru each day. Trudging along. Blissfully ignorant.

I have decided I am over all of the gloom and sadness and putting it out there. That is not who Henry was nor am I. He loved my blogs but I think even he would say to stop being so sad. One thing my husband was... He was FUN and funny. Four days before he died he said something so freaking funny it had me bent over laughing and crying.

God I miss him so.

But... This one thing keeps me awake for hours in the dark of night. It haunts me.

Actually, grieving these days is not at all about me, it's about what Henry went thru at the end. That is what sends me to bed for days to cry and cry. I can't get past what he went thru. The pain, the chemo, the radiation, the feeding tubes and not eating a BITE of food for over a year... Barely able to sip a drop of water. The swelling, the pain... ALL of it.

Those are the things I hurt about. Not about ME but about HIM.

His left arm swelled up to five times the size it normally was. Both legs swelled so huge that I would describe his feet as giant hams stuck to the ends of his legs with little toes stuck on.

Still he refused medical treatment. He wanted this done HIS way.

Everywhere in the house that he went there was this sticky stuff on the floor. Did one of the kids spill Kool-Aid? I would mop and scrub but at the end of the day it was sticky again. I found out later that it was protein leaking from his pores as he walked, he was so swollen. It had no where else to go so it seeped from him as he took each step.

Still he went to work.

I knew things were changing. He seemed to be dizzy and disoriented at times. I worried about him driving the 1.2 miles from our home to the office. I would walk with him to the car in my pajamas and coffee in hand, as the car would reach the end of the drive, I would follow it down the street. "Please God let him get there safely."

I would whisper silently as the car turned the corner out of sight.

About a week later, he came home and each day, each hour and each minute, things grew progressively worse.

He didn't go back to work. I knew things were bad. Henry not going to the office? It was really bad but he never complained or said a word about how he was feeling.

Each hour he was worse by now...

He asked me for paper and pen. He wanted to write. I gave him a stark white pad of paper and a pen with the company logo on it. He was adamant about writing something... What?

"I need to write this but write how do I write it?" he said.

"I'm not sure, write what you know." I told him, totally confused by what he wanted to say.

He began to write....

He wrote the date, his name and my name and wrote that I was amazing.

Oh God, I can't stop crying about this.

"Why am I amazing, darling? What do you mean "amazing?" I asked when I read what he had written.

He looked up at me and with that sweet smile of his, he told me he would save that and tell me someday and then I would know.

His next question...."Am I dying?"

What?

No!!!!

No, no,no, no.

No!

My heart fell clear to the floor and stopped.

Why did he ask me that?

" Why? Why do you ask me that?"

In the quietest voice I had ever heard, he said.."Because I feel like I'm dying."

Oh God! No.

At that exact moment, I think I knew. Tell him yes? Lie?

"Of course you're not dying, silly. You're going to be fine. Everything is fine." I lied.

Was I lying to him and to myself? Should I have told him yes? Should I have lied?

The answer to this question haunts me. Wakes me up at 2:00 a.m. every morning and sticks in head all thru the day. Should I have told him????

If/when my time comes, someone had better damn well be telling me about it!

I want to know.

To this day, I don't know if my lie was the right thing to do or not.

In my defense... I didn't know. Only God did.

Two days later he was gone. I had called the priest that married us to come to our home to give him his "Last Rites"

As the priest blessed him and prayed over him, I crawled into the bed. I held him in my arms. He took three last breaths and gently died in my arms. My heart died that day too.

Will the tears ever stop? I doubt it.

I can't wait to see my husband again. I need to tell him so much.

I want to tell him how proud I was to be his wife. How happy he made me. How very much I love him. I want to tell him that I am sorry I lied to the most important question he has ever asked of me.

And... I want to ask him about that one question he said he'd tell me about later....

Why did you write that I am so amazing?

I look forward to that day.

PS. To the miserable person that wrote the cowardly letter...

I know who you are.

I want to Thank You.

You see, your intention was to hurt but I have had all the hurt I can. Your words didn't hurt me. In fact they helped me and for that I thank you.

You lit a fire under me.

No more sitting looking at the walls. I am going back to work. I am going back to blogging and making videos soon. I learned one very valuable lesson in losing my darling husband and that is this:

Life is VERY short. Enjoy it.

And that is exactly what I intend to do.

Your cruel words mailed to me were intended to crush me. You can not. I am strong.

After all.... My husband thinks I am amazing!

I love you all. Thank you for being here. You, all of you, truly are amazing.

One Last Kiss

The day of the funeral...

To feel so numb but to have so much to do is such a contradiction in terms. All I want to do is go to bed and stay there with the blankets pulled over my head.

Let someone else do this. I can't.

Phone calls from people, food and flowers arriving at the door. God, I hate the smell of roses now. So cloyingly sweet. The smell seems to penetrate the house but mostly my brain.

A friend of mine that I had met at the Radiation clinic... (That seems like it was a 100 years ago)

Her husband had died of the same horrible cancer my husband had, told me that she had put her dog up in the bed with her husband to let him know that he was gone.

Ewwww, so morbid!

After my husband had gone, I did just that.

Both dogs were thrilled to be up on the bed I had denied them access to these last weeks. The little Chihuahua, much older and wiser, sniffed him all over. Looked up at me with such sadness in her soft brown eyes then laid her little apple head on his arm with a small sigh. She bared her teeth at anyone that tried to move her from his side.

Izzy, usually so rambunctious and out of control, sniffed his face once, jumped off the bed like she had been shot from a cannon and hid under the bed in the next room.

They both knew.

I'm glad now I did this. They are both grieving but seem to know why their beloved master is not here. He's not coming home....

Shower, makeup, hair. Like an auto-mon get ready for this day.

Meet the rest of the family, cousins, relatives, life-long friends at the funeral home.

Pall Bearers

Saying good-bye. More tears. More sorrow. More prayers. More sadness.

One last goodbye. More tears fall onto his face. "My Darling, please know that I will always love you. Forever. Unending."

I see the six best friends of my husband, the pall bearers, bring the casket and loads of flowers out to the waiting hearse. Such a sunny pretty day but a black hole in all of our hearts. I feel as if my knees will buckle and I will become one with the parking lot.

I am just led around like a four year old. Totally clueless. I have never done this before.

Not this.

Our limo follows the long black hearse. Others follows us. A long steady stream of cars

winding thru the streets to the church Henry and I attended every Sunday that we could while we were home and together. I see people and recognize their faces but my heart can't acknowledge their presence or why they are there to tell this wonderful man good-bye.

So many people crying.

So much sadness.

People speak at the podium and the priest says the Mass. My husband is lying there beside me in a white draped coffin with a cross of gold embroidered on the delicate cloth.

The priest begins The Lord's Prayer.

Every Sunday, all of our married life and before, as "The Lord's Prayer" was being said, we would recite those familiar words, my husband would reach out and grab my hand as we spoke the words....Hands locked in a grasp, all of the week's issues and problems would seem to melt away....

Thy Kingdom Come, Thy will be Done

No one to hold my hand now as that beautiful prayer was said, I reached out and laid my hand on the coffin. Never to hold his hand again, sobbing, as the prayer and the people prayed.

I could hear people crying behind me. He was so loved.

Back to the limo again.

Winding thru the streets. We don't go straight to the cemetery. Police escorts leading us past his business. All of his workers out lining the street in a silent salute and good-bye to this amazing man. Gone too Soon. Too Young... Too Good.

Following the hearse to the cemetery. A tent has been set up with chairs under the old oak trees in the spot we had chosen over a year before.

The sun dapples through the trees and glistens on the mirror covered casket. His name and birthdate and the date he left us engraved so beautifully on the top of the glass.

The priest ends the prayers and before they lower my beautiful husband into the ground, I bend to kiss the top. I leave an eternal lipstick print on the glass as I tell him one last good-bye...

How To Be a Widow II

Time passes and memories of the last painful days ebb just the tiniest bit each day but the hurt is still simmering there, right beneath the surface.

24/7

You wake up each day and the sun still shines. Days pass and you even laugh. I still have feelings of guilt for being here and alive and Henry is not.

Had it only been me to go and not him. Visiting his grave each day, I want to open it up and crawl inside.

I have begun going to grief counseling and that helps. To be in a group of others...mothers, fathers, husbands, wives. All of them love and lost and it hurts. They say that "Time heals all wounds" but there is one addendum to that old adage and that is that time may heal but a scab forms and the slightest thing such as a song or smell or memory opens it up and the heart bleeds. Again.

I am strong.

I can do this.

Each day I get up. I apply lipstick and put one foot forward and life continues.

Henry would want me to be happy. He loved reading my blog and my watching my videos. The best thing about my husband was that he listened to me. I mean really LISTENED to me. Whether it was about lipstick or kids or the dogs. No subject matter was too small or too slight.

He listened to me. And isn't that what a "best friend" does?

Simply put, we had a marriage that many dream of. My best advice for success in any relationship is so easy and simple.

Be KIND to each other.

That's it.

Be kind.

Kindness is as easy as it is implied.

We all argue or feel our side or point of view is the correct one.

Would you rather always be RIGHT or always be HAPPY?

I choose being happy. Being right all the time is too much work.

I'm no one's doormat but I also don't feel the need to push my opinions, thoughts or ideas down anyone's throat.

I want so bad to go back and watch the videos that my husband was in but that day will be a long way off. We had so much fun making them. We had so much fun EVERY day!

Henry told me how proud of me he was daily. He told others I was "The Love of his Life."

I received sympathy cards from so many friends that wanted to share that Henry would always say that. *sigh*

Being the Love of His Life.

What a GIFT!

Those words help ease the pain. Just a tad.

The day of the showing was exhausting but with the love and support of my family and friends, we all got thru it. Ten hours of people and stories and so much love for my husband. It's funny to feel so close to so many strangers, acquaintances, and those you love all wrapped up into one day. I have found that when people tell me they knew my husband, I feel an instant bond. You knew him? Oh, please tell me more! Just talking about him keeps him alive in my heart and probably theirs as well.

The day of the funeral was to be grueling. To send a loved one off into eternity forever?

How does one do that?

I sat down each day and wrote down everything. Writing is therapy for myself and many others. Henry loved my writing. He made me promise to continue, hoping it would not only help me but others going thru an ordeal like this or something similar. If it helps one wife or sister, parent, brother or child that has lost a love, then all the better.

I love you all so much. Your kindness does indeed honor Henry and my gratefulness to you is more than I can put into words. We were both so blessed.

Be kind. Be kind to those you love and even to those you don't.

More later....

How to be a Widow

*sigh*

Who would ever want to purposely write about this crap?

Certainly not me.

I am no expert.

I know how to be a wife.

I know how to be a mom.

I know how to be a woman.

I know how to be a friend.

I know how to be a CASA

I know how to be a Flight Attendant.

I am clueless how to be a widow.

When Henry was first diagnosed, I searched the internet like a freak looking for miracles. Plenty of stories of men with this horrible disease but never an ending. Never a wonderful outcome. Henry's cancer was a rare one. I just wanted an ending. Anything that would be good.

Posts were out there written by wives or loved ones going thru this same thing but the postings would just suddenly stop....

Nothing

My heart somehow seemed to guess the outcome but my brain refused to accept defeat.

The day after Henry died, a friend of the family stopped by with trays and platters of food. Friends had all pitched in to provide food for the people that would be stopping by.

Thick slices of slow cooked tenderloin. Thin slices of fresh salmon with lemon and capers.

Desserts. Meat and cold cut trays. Buns, breads

Fruits, vegetable trays, cheeses, crackers and endless lists of food to feed the masses of people that were to stop by in the days to come.

While everyone else feasted on these foods,

my friend discreetly pulled me aside and gave me some advice.....

"Lana, people are going to be watching you. Judging you. No matter what you say or do, it will be scrutinized and picked apart. What you wear and how your makeup looks each day for the next who knows how long will all be judged. Not because of any other reason than that you are now a widow and people will talk. Be careful."

What?

Holy Crap!

That all sounded horrific.

It also sounded sadly true.

Other friends offered advice of their own. These are actual texts from friends offering their best advice. I think I used each one. Those days were all a giant blur.

Wear low heeled shoes. Don't eat a heavy meal before the showing.

Don't eat fiber or you will have to use the bathroom too often. Don't drink water or you will be running to pee every 5 minutes. Bring mints. Chew gum. Bring lipstick.

Sit whenever possible.

Ask how did you know my husband to people you do not recognize.

Hug those you love. Shake the hands of those who you don't know. Excuse yourself and go to the ladies room any time you need to. Bring Wet-Wipes for your hands. Keep your chin up. Wear waterproof mascara. (L'Oreal Voluminous is amazing! I cried the equivalent of a river but my mascara stood up)

The day of the showing came. I had two black dresses I thought would be appropriate. One a Michael Kors for the showing and the other Alice & Olivia with long black gloves for the burial and funeral mass.

No low cut cleavage showing. No mini lengths. Nothing tight or too sexy. Nothing revealing. No flashy jewelry. No heavy cakey makeup.

I wore my hair straight and not too fancy. Just subtle and sad.

That was me.

Subtle and sad.

I arrived at the funeral parlor with it's old elaborate furnishings, velvet walls and spindely chairs 3 hours before the doors would open. I asked the funeral director to please lock the doors until the family was ready to receive. Ugh. Receive?

My son and daughter-in-law on each side of me, bracing me up. Giving me strength to see him again for the long day and evening to come.

I slowly approached the coffin where my husband was lying in state.

I couldn't wait to see him. He died on a Thursday and it was now Tuesday. I hadn't seen his face since he had died. I made the funeral home wait five hours to take his body from my house.

I didn't want to ever let him go....

I missed him so much. I was excited but scared shitless too.

One on each arm I was shaking. It seemed like a mile to walk the few steps to see him.

He seemed so at peace and looked so handsome. I had brought his wedding ring. His hands had become so swollen those last weeks that he had to remove it. I found it in his bureau in an envelope with the date he had removed it along with these words..... 5/27/2012 "From My Girl. * * * * * "

Those numbers. Those words.

Those words had reduced me to tears and sent me straight to bed for an entire day.

I slipped the ring back where I had placed it so many years ago at our wedding. It looked so right on his finger again. A band of gold with 5 diamonds.

Each diamond a word.

* * * * *

I Love You Very Much.

I* Love* You * Very *Much*

We signed every note we ever left each other with 5 dots.

* * * * *

I Love You Very Much

I bent to kiss his face and whisper how much I love him.

My tears fell like tiny drops of dew onto his face.

Dried up tears.

So many.

I knew he would carry them to eternity and it gave me some dreary kind of comfort. A part of me would forever be with him and since my heart was already there, it seemed right.

I was asked where I wanted to stand.

Near my husband so I could look at his beautiful face and gather strength to get thru this

The family was in place. The doors unlocked.

The people came in droves.

So many people.

So many beautiful stories of the kindness and good deeds or humorous things my husband did to touch so many lives. Each one a treasure. I keep them all in my heart and remember them even now.

The hardest ones to bear were from the young men that worked for him. Some were still working there but many had grown and gone on to bigger and better jobs. Each one came to me with tears and a hug to tell me what my husband did to change their lives for the better. Or a funny story to tell.

To see these grown men crying and missing him so much was very heart-warming yet difficult at the same time.

Hour upon hour the people came.

I knew my husband was wonderful but had no idea so many others did as well.

For nine straight hours they came and line went on and on....

My family and dear friends didn't leave me alone. I finally caught on.

I asked, "Are you all afraid I am a danger to myself or others. Is that why you stay?"

No, they replied, we are just concerned for you to be alone.

Henry had become so much of my life in the last year since his diagnosis that my life was his. I gave up being a CASA, working, YouTube, blogging, shopping, lunches with girlfriends, friends etc. that now that he was gone, I was at a complete loss. No more feeding thru that damn feeding tube every 2 hours. No more helping him shower, no more bandages. No more being caretaker. I would have done it all again for a thousand years if he could have just stayed....

The funeral and burial was to be tomorrow. More of the same.

Sadness and tears.

He Was All I Have

Hello to all of you that have sent all of the amazing notes and to the ones that left me a Tweet or note here  every day, I owe you big-time.
You have no idea how these notes got me thru these last months. I got where I actually looked forward to them. They were a tiny bright spot in an otherwise very dark time.
A thin thread to a different place.


When I was approached to write a book during my husbands treatments, I told the publisher that I wouldn't write about his passing but instead go back. All the way back to my life as a child. 
It was a compromise. 
I totally dropped the ball on my writings the last 4 - 5 months. My hands were full with caring for the love of my life. Who can write when their heart is being crushed. I stopped everything and devoted every second to my husband.
He is gone.
I cry just thinking of him. 
I miss him so much it hurts like a physical pain. 
I seem to hang at the cemetery.
I rake and clean and preen and decorate his gravesite. 
Somehow it gives me comfort. I had to stop telling family and friends that I go there 3 times a day. Now they look at me funny as if I am loco.
Maybe I am.
It's like going to his place. It's all I have.
Someday soon I will write about it all. The 
last months, the beautiful love we had, and his passing.
Right now, I am so raw inside it would come out as rambling jibberish.
Writing clears my thoughts.  It's all I have.
Henry died the way he lived... His way.
If someone can die beautifully, he did.
I held him in my arms. He was all I have...

Take This Cancer and Shove It!

Thursday 
*sigh*
Not much happening here in this 
cancer-rabbit-hole we fell into.
I like it like that.


My husband still can't sip water... Very well anyway.
Food? Forget about it. Can you imagine not eating even ONE bite of food for FOUR whole months? I can't. 
(Food is my Friend)
He says water goes down but he's not sure if it stays there or if it's simply spit. So... I gave him a small amount of orange Gatorade to drink.
It went down and mostly 50% stayed down. Being orange-colored helped to sort out what it was he was spitting out. 
He says he still feels something back there gagging him if/when he does swallow. Hmmm. 
Is it a tumor?
Is it dead cancer?
Is it scar tissue?
Who knows, but he refuses to go see the Ear Nose and Throat doctor and I can see his point... to a point. All of my nudging and nagging get me no where.
(I've even threatened to use the Company Credit Card and go on an extravagant  Shopping Spree again... Still nope.)
He says "Why test what you won't treat."
He just simply does not  LOOK like a man with cancer any longer. 


The dull grey coloring is gone. He has those pretty flushed cheeks and ruddy complexion back that made me fall in love with him.
He is no longer losing weight. I feed him every 3 hours 6 times a day. 6 cans of Isosourse canned liquid a day via his feeding tube.
He no longer coughs up blood.
He no longer has that raspy "hot potato" voice.
He is no longer so fatigued he can't move one step in front of another.
He has even been going to the office 2-3 hours a day.
You tell me.
Does that all sound like a sick and dying man?
No symptoms~~ no cancer, right?
So, we wait. 
The PET Scan is scheduled for the end of November. That will tell the true story.
The truth, The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
It's still too early to do the PET Scan now as the radiation is still inside his body and he would light up like a nuclear reactor.
So... As I said, we wait.
Waiting has never been my strongpoint but we are learning to cope.
Life goes on and time waits for no man... or woman.


 (Where did I put that Credit Card anyway?)


PS. I noted that Steve Jobs passed away.
RIP Steve Jobs.
He had the same rare Neuroendocrine cancer my husband has.... 
I feel a Scarlett O'Hara moment coming on again......

Today, I Am Scarlett O'Hara Again...

Today is the day.
We have been walking around this house these last few days as nervous as two long-tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs. 
So scared.
So worried. Praying and asking God and the doctors to give good news.
All of you (my little heartbeats) have been so wonderful and diligent.
So kind and supportive. We are no longer strangers. How can we be?
You were here with us thru this fight. 
Pushing. Reading my words.
Praying.
I love you.
We both do.


We arrive at the oncologists office 5 minutes ahead of time. As I exit the car and slam the door behind me, I tell my husband...

"When we return to this car, we will be two completely different people. Our lives are about to change directions. Remember that as we climb back in to go to go on our way."
His look says it all. Kind of a "Oh Crap" look.
We enter the building arm in arm much as we did as we walked down the aisle of our cathedral after saying "I Do" at our wedding.


Both of us have been waffling at what the results of the scan will be.
One second... 
It's going to be All Clear.
The very next half second... 
It's going to be devastating news.
We check in and sit in the waiting room. 
Time clicks by. 
My heart beat quickens each time a new patient is called in. We sit and memories of radiation and chemo slip thru my mind. OUT! Those days were so grim and cold. Today is for positive not memories of painful treatments.
We are finally called.
We pass the oncologist in the hall. 
He hugs us both in a warm bear-hug.
Wait. 
Is that a good sign or a bad sign?
We are put into a holding room to wait some more.  We try to analyze everything. 
"Did he hug us because he knows we need to go choose funeral attire or did he hug us because he is about to give us happy news?" My husband asks me.
"Good grief, stop that. He hugged us because he ...."
My mind goes off that cliff.


The door opens and the doctors smiling face enters.
We both move the very edge of our seats.
He begins to ask random, mundane health questions.
"Get to the point. The Bottom line! Enough with the chit chat." I want to get right in his face and yell.
We've been waiting 6 days for this. 
Finally, his words.
I melt.


All looks Clear.
You are in Partial Remission.


Come back in a month for another CT Scan, a Flex Scope, and a PET Scan in 2 months and we will know more. We can then see if it has spread or if it is all dead. Most of the tumors are gone but some are there and I hope inactive."


Enough said! 
We Gone.
In my mind, we are out the door and escaping this place like a 2nd grader when she hears the bell ring for recess. RUN! School's out!
Freedom! Escape.
Back to the safety of our car and away from this place!


Not so fast, lady.
What the heck is "Partial Remission?
Isn't that somewhat like saying you are Kind of Pregnant?
Just like Scarlett O'Hara would do, I pick up my handbag and practically skip out the door.  Fiddle dee dee.
"We'll think about that tomorrow."

The Countdown

Monday Evening
Friday it began. 
The countdown to Thursday.
To me, it's criminal to make a person wait 6 days to find out the results of the CT Scan taken on Friday.
This weekend was brutal. We did everything to keep our minds off it.
Gin Rummy. 
A race to see who could complete the USA Today Crossword first.  Watched old movies curled up together on the couch. 
It didn't help at all. It's always there. 
Haunting your mind. 
Taking your breath away. One minute convinced the outcome will be perfect. Then in the next instant, dashed to depths of despair that it won't be.
Our appointment on Thursday is at 10:00 and I may not have any eyelashes left by then from stress and worry.
You see, this test will show if the cancer is gone or not. Did the treatments work? All of the pain and trauma? Will it be good news?
So, basically, we will get a 
"You will live" or a "You will not live"
verdict. 
Sometimes I can't even wrap my mind around that.
To look at dying so close and personal? 
Someone asked me in the comments about Henry's anti-nausea medicine. Is the dose strong enough?
It's not that sadly.
It's when he tries to swallow. Tries to brush his teeth, sip water.
He says he gags. 
The tiniest sip of water goes down then comes right back up.
(He hasn't drank water or eaten by mouth in over 3 months)
He says he feels something back there and it chokes him.
(I cringe just writing these words down)
My hope is that it's dead cancer stuck back there. Cancer that was killed by the radiation. Cancer just stuck  there doing nothing but being dead.
Please be DEAD! Please don't show up on a CT Scan as alive!


The doctor's words are our future. 
I wonder if I will whoop in glee or melt into a puddle of crying blubber on the floor of the office. 
If this is this hard for ME... Imagine how it must feel to be Henry?
I can't even.
So... We wait.
We continue to play cards, do the crossword and watch movies with Thursday, 10:00 on our minds.....