Wednesday night, 9 March 2005 [11:30 p.m.]
Wednesday night, 9 March 2005 [11:30 p.m.]Hi, hon. I dragged a chair out to the backyard tonight to spend a bit of time with the stars and with you but there were lots of clouds so it will have to wait for another night. Not a lot of tears today but lots last night when I went in my room and sat on the side of the bed with your picture and talked to you. Weepy right now and missing you so much. No, nothing from Don and no package.I am miserable and there are dramas finding a new house. I am trying, trying to put a positive spin on things like you would want me to do but I am struggling to say the least. There were a couple of times when you weren’t as positive as I thought you’d be (and who could blame you when you were so sick?). You said that you’d only ever had bad relationships with women – well, what about me? Honey, I turned myself inside out trying to be good to you. And men – twice you said that men are pigs – at least that time I just wouldn’t accept that from you. Both times we were talking about prostitutes and you said that men are pigs because they go to them. Well, I just don’t believe that – I just believe that men and women’s natures are very different. I hoped you would have seen a prostitute while you were in Mexico because I think you needed that. You told me when you got back that you weren’t "in to it" but I think you were too sick then and that’s why you only stayed a couple of days in Cabo. Poor Jimmi and Bruno – I think they were really looking forward to spending time with you. And poor me – trying to push you into the arms of a whore so you could have some pleasure.
OK, it’s been a month since we spoke. I think I will completely go insane when it’s been three months since you died – when you will have been gone for the same amount of time as we were together. Somehow this grief has to lessen. Somehow I have to get through it. I wonder how many litres of tears have poured down my face. I want to die, I just want to die. I am going through exactly what you were afraid I might. I can only just stand it without you. I am only just barely getting by. The not knowing part is a killer – the pointlessness of it, the hurtfulness. PLEASE, I am begging you – somehow MAKE THEM contact me!!! I always hated to ask you for anything but I am asking, begging, now. I only want to know little things, tiny things, innocuous things. What happened to your truck, your trophies, your rifles, your fly fishing rod, your computer, your "sled", YOUR PICTURES, your clothes, your hunting gear, your stereo?? What happened to YOU – who found you, at what time do they think you died, who was over that night, what happened to your body?? I WANT TO KNOW, I DESERVE TO KNOW!!! I am not asking about your things because I want them – I am asking because I want to know everything there is to know about you. For Christ’s sake, Keith, I tried to organise my very own mother’s deer rifle to be sent to you because you thought it was made by some small gunsmith – better you should have it then my brother and better then me trying to get it through Customs in Australia. But there just wasn’t time as it worked out – too bad, your nephew could have had it – and if that meant that there was a connection between the D. family and the L. family, well that would have been a good thing. I need to know about you because I treasure you, because I am trying to honour you. Let me grieve in the way I have to grieve – I am not going to forget you, no matter what but I think this whole process could be easier. And your wonderful Sage hat has still not arrived. What will I do if it never comes: if it gets lost in the mail or if it never got sent?
Warwick and I are on our own – we have nobody. It is so hard. I am facing this move and there are so many obstacles. One thing I never let you know was just how poor Wozza and I are – how close to the bone we live. My car is a total wreck, a complete POS. You didn’t know that I didn’t have enough money to buy a round trip air and Greyhound ticket from Sydney to 108 and I wasn’t going to let you know. I was just going to go back to Vancouver and stay in a hostel or backpacker’s until I got enough $$$ for airfare back to Sydney. And neither you nor Alison or anybody would have ever known. I would have lost my pension and maybe my job but by God I would have been there to help you and Ken and maybe make life easier for you. All that day on the twelfth when I should have been arriving there and was in Chinatown instead, I kept thinking "I should be on the plane right now" and indeed I should have if you hadn’t been so bloody stubborn. I was 100% prepared to sleep on an air mattress in the bed of the Dodge if I had to but no way.
Actually, I am starting to sound a bit snarky and I’m sorry. I love you even if you are a bit misguided from time to time. My Dad used to tell my Mother that she was bullheaded, but son, you take the cake. That reminds me – last night I realised that the person I love most in the world is my son, followed by my Mother and then, ta-dum, you. Of all the people I’ve come across in my life, of all the relationships and all the years, it comes down to you. Of all the people in the world in November 2004 I had to meet and fall in love with you – only to lose you in February. Ya, it’s cruel, but that’s the way it is. But it was meant to happen and you have done so much good in my life. Never any regrets.
- Susan
posted by Susan @ 7:14 pm
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