December 28, 2005

Wednesday morning, 28 December 2005 [11:00 a.m.]:

‘morning, KD!

Well I’m not exactly here ‘bright and early’ but it is still morning and here I am again.

Thinking about you heaps lately, I guess because this was such a pivotal time last year. And thanks so much, again, for the hat – I just love it and the sentiments behind it (on both our sides). The cigarette smell keeps fading but your smell is coming out of it now – sometimes it flows down across my nose and face like Horseshoe (Niagara) Falls. Just this morning one of the cats (Tzatziki) walked up to it and ‘loved’ it like cats do, rubbing her cheeks and neck all over it. The cats all seem to know you and like you but Ruffie is just a pup and not as spiritual a being as the cats are. At least she doesn’t bark at you the few times that you have visited.

You wouldn’t believe the weather – in Abbotsford it’s gotten as high as 54o F in the past few days. I guess this means crappy skiing at Whistler then. Seeing the weather there (it’s on my home page) always make me think very fondly of Jess and less so of Alison. (Well, face it, she wasn’t very nice to me last year and, yeah, yeah, she was upset, too, etc., etc.) I bet you are very much in theirs thoughts right now like you are in mine given what was happening a year ago. How awful, awful, awful to find you, love you, lose you like I did. Harder for them since they had you longer. How I would have loved to go on a fly fishing expedition with you and Jess; in the few sentences I’ve seen her write (on FAOL) she sounds like a lovely girl and so open and enthusiastic and positive like you.

Funny, I thought about Craig yesterday, too – after kicking Warwick out of the house and having him come over here with Alison to get his gear made me bring Craig to mind – I’m so sorry that it never got patched up before you had to leave.

Was thinking yesterday about how you said that you were non-religious (bet Alison was horrified!). Well maybe you didn’t attend Sunday services and hadn’t for years but I think that you were one of the most spiritual persons I have ever met. You know there were those times that you and I connected on that level and think about you and Don and the stars and your relationship with Clayton and your Grandpop. Honey, these go beyond the plane of the everyday, concrete, here and now world. I don’t know a lot about your relationship with the animals that you hunted but it wouldn’t surprise me if there wasn’t something there that took it beyond the hunter/hunted relationship. It’s times like these that I miss you because I am missing so many of your stories. But when you come to take me home, we will have plenty of time then to talk.

I have to go – I haven’t even had my shower yet this morning and it almost isn’t morning any more! I’m thinking of you constantly - I think that from the way that it is going now that the next couple of months are going to be extremely difficult to get through because every day is jam packed solid with reminders of you.

Wondering how it is with Don and how his Christmas is and if he got any time off – I kind of think that he might not have since he had so much time off when his truck broke down and then was in Van for Thanksgiving and sent your parcel on. I really, really respect that bloke and although he probably thinks I don’t listen to any of his advice I do take all of it onboard even though it doesn’t always change my mind or memories about certain things.

Got an e-mail from my travel agent today – he thinks that I should book the air tickets in mid-February. That seems crazy in a way – I should have been there helping Ken in Jan-Feb 2005 not making travel arrangements in Feb 2006! But you couldn’t really tell me why I couldn’t show up on the twelfth, could you, Keith? You thought I’d freak, you thought I’d beg you to stay, you thought that I couldn’t handle it. If you had known me half so well as I know you, you would have wanted your Tiger to be there with you and I would have happily worn any consequences that flowed on from that. Having brought all this painful stuff up, I guess I haven’t ever told you how brave I think that you were for making the choices that you made. (But there has never been any doubt as to the fact that you always have been a very brave person.) But you didn’t have to be alone, you sweetheart. You know really it probably would have been easier for me if I had helped you at the end and been there for you because I know that, in spite of what the community thinks, I would have been doing the right thing. If any of your friends or family read this and think "Do you think that she actually knows?" – Yes, I do know, and I have known for a very, very long time. No way in hell could I have been as close to you as I was and *not* know. But thanks for worrying about me and sorry I scared the crappers out of you when I told you on the ‘phone that I was on my way. I regret that I didn’t get on that plane but I understand 100% where you were coming from and your attempt to stay in control of what was happening to you. You did try to protect me and I appreciate it. By the way, what was it about the twelfth of February, anyway: why that date?

It’s just gone noon and I have to shower. I’ll probably never feel dry afterwards as it’s in the 90s today and very humid (Lord knows why, for there’s been no rain to speak of). I might work this afternoon transcribing the Google Earth details onto the topo maps. That way I can sit here in the breeze from the pedestal fan while I work – even with both sides of my PC off, she keeps getting affected by the heat. The sound card died the other day and when I replace it I’ll get a new internal 3" fan, for now I just keep the fan going in my room.

Speaking of my room! It is so lovely and is just like a nest! There are tons of jacaranda waiting to come to the Skeena, there’s my collection of Chinese statues of the lunar signs, my little elephant statues (Alison gave me one for Christmas), posters, dreamcatchers, billions of candles, my Balinese shadow puppets (and one Javanese one), all my art supplies, books – it’s lovely. Oh, do I need to mention that there are pictures of you?! LOL!

I have just noticed that a weird thing happened in the night last night that I had forgotten about. I heard the new little colour printer go off – I think that maybe P.K. jumped up on it; she did scratch at the door later to be let out. Anyway, I heard the thing whining away for a few moments and didn’t think very much of it and fell back asleep. Just now, I noticed that there was something in the out tray. It’s spooky, honey, it really is. Do you remember the photos that you got together for Alison (Don, actually) to send to me after you died? Well most of the photos that you sent I had already seen, there were a couple that I hadn’t. The printer has just printed out a copy (sadly, on plain paper) of that really, really old one of you up above the timberline wearing camouflage gear, your hunting hat and a rifle. There are snowcapped mountains behind you and some body of water to your right and you had put a green frame around it. You are heaps younger in it (still got those big old fat fingers, KD! LOL!). I wish I knew who you were with and where you were. Funny this photo should print out in the night like that! What are you trying to tell me? How do you feel about me hiking the Skeena? Are you telling me that you are with me and that I shouldn’t be sad? I’m sorry I’m so sad right now, honey, but you know that I’ve taken it on the chin with respect to some people in my life and now there is this thing with Warwick. And I wanted that job at Main Campus so badly and went into it with just the right attitude (thanks to you!) and it didn’t work out. This Christmas just sucks big-time, the worst of my life. So I guess it’s not surprising I’m doing the weepy thing.

So go have a ride on your Polaris, do a touch of ice fishing, listen to some ZZ Top (LOL! ZZ Top in heaven!) and, as I’ve said before, stay away from those cute angels – *your* angel is waiting for you right down here! Maybe the four of you should have a big old snowball fight and do a bit of snowshoeing after.

God loved you very much, Keith, to give you the many, many gifts that he did. You used them well. All your family and all your friends miss you so and we miss you in our lives in the way that you were before. But you have gone on ahead of us and you left us with our Promises to cherish and to honour. As for me, you are both the journey and the destination and I thank you for that. Only by living my life in the way that you wanted me to can I ever repay you for all that you have done for me.

With thanks and love –

- Susan

P.S.: You’re here right this very minute, aren’t you? The other printer, the big old laser one, has just started itself up and made this whining noise – I swear I haven’t touched them or touched a printer menu!

posted by Susan @ 12:55 pm 0 comments

December 26, 2005


Keith's green Dodge, Keith & Simba. Do I see a certain Sage hat (might be Scientific Anglers, hard to say)??? Posted by Picasa

posted by Susan @ 11:40 pm 0 comments


Cool new Dodge Ram (p/u bed is kinda short - just 6 ft.). Posted by Picasa

posted by Susan @ 11:35 pm 0 comments

Monday night, 26 December 2005 [10:15 p.m.]:

Hi. Me again, honey.

Well, I am going to start out by saying that I really, really miss you. It hasn’t helped that this has been such a horrible Christmas.

I was really worried about you this time last year, after getting your weird message on Christmas Eve and then not hearing from you. And then there was the tsunami to be worried about… I will never, ever forget it. I heard about it really early on when nobody had any idea of the extent of it. The estimate of fatalities just kept leaping up and up and up… 500; 1,500; 5,000; 10,000 – it was just insane and completely unimaginable. But things got real real quick when the photos and videos started to come in. I will never, ever forget the picture that was illegally inserted in Hellmut Issels photo site; it really brought it all home to me.

Saw a bat or two tonight but nothing like last night. And I was going to insert a fruit bat photo yesterday but then forgot. You know they are actually kind of cute and I knew a couple of people up in Townsville that had them as pets.

The other thing that I keep thinking of is how, at this time last year, I wasn’t in love with you – yet. That didn’t happen until mid-January. We were just good friends who enjoyed each other’s company. I really, honestly had no idea at this point that I was going to lose you so soon. I wonder now if I knew what was going to happen if I would have fallen in love with you at all. I’m kind of sure that I would have regardless – I mean, dude, face it, you are one very, very special man. And now I know that I am a very special woman, too, so I guess our relationship shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone. But I will always, always wonder (and never get any answer) why you had to go and bloody die on me when I loved you so much (still do) and when, and this sounds odd I know, I really, really deserved to find someone as lovely as you. The are so many men out there who are just total jerks and others who are completely clueless. And you showed up with your special mix – I loved so many of the things that you were into, I liked (loved!) the person you were (and are!), you weren’t stupid, I liked the way you looked, I liked the way you shared yourself and I hope this doesn’t freak anybody out there out – I sure as shit wouldn’t have kicked you out of bed, son. I wanted you all to myself and I wanted to share you with the whole world. I know I would have been able to spend 100% of our time together and I would have known when to let go, step aside and let you have your head – you were too big a person, too big a personality to be contained. So I would have been good and shared and we would have been happy. Well, we *were* happy and it was great but I should have gone to Canada and you shouldn’t been so inconsiderate (if you can put it that way!) to go and get cancer and leave all of us who love you all alone. Poor Jessie. Poor Don. Poor me. (At least your Mom is so far gone that she can’t really understand what has happened, thank the Lord for small mercies anyway.)

So after all the above heavy stuff and all the tears that I’ve been crying, a bit of news [I keep running into all this stuff and thinking, "Keith would like that" (it sure would have been nice to have had you go to Grafton with me like we had planned and maybe that’s why my Christmas has been the worst one of my life – you really should have been here to share it with me. And it would have been so much fun to shop for a present for you.).] Anyway, Dodge has come out with a new Dodge Ram Mega Cab model with all sorts of cool stuff (hefty price tag, but) but doesn’t come in green like your lovely truck. Closest you’ll get is "Atlantic Pearl Blue" which is nice, I have to admit. So go on, get off yer butt and go tell St. Peter that you’ll be needing, and before the end of the year, another case of Sleeman’s and a nice new Dodge. And don’t forget to tell him that Susan sent you! And I’m sure you can think of a couple of more things to add to help celebrate the New Year. Why not go whole hog and ask for a new blue Polaris, I’m sure there’s some great snowy trails in Heaven somewhere you can take it for a run. And stay away from those cute angels! Your very own angel is right down here on earth waiting for our reunion!

Anyway, hon, the tears have stopped for now and I’m going to go get ready for bed. I’ll try to remember tomorrow to tell all about what a "pavlova" is. Mmmm.

Love you and miss you –

- Tiger Woman

posted by Susan @ 11:25 pm 0 comments

December 25, 2005

Sunday evening, 25 December 2005 [10:30 p.m.]:

Hey there, KD!

Well, this has been a truly crap Christmas (bet you were thinking the same about this time last year).

After buying lots of food and treats and alcohol (I never buy alcohol and I went out and got three bottles!) Warwick rings up at 6:30 p.m. and doesn’t come over. He was supposed to come on Friday, yesterday we were supposed to go deliver some Christmas gifts (for Graham and John S. – I was going to drive down to Warren’s myself) and today have Christmas. Then on Friday he announces that he will have Christmas at his Dad’s and come over in the afternoon and go to Alison’s tomorrow. And he hasn’t come over at all. I don’t think that I’ve ever spent Christmas on my own before and there’s an extra sting when you look at all the food that I bought for today. So I sent him a couple of SMS messages after and I have told him that I want him to have moved completely out of this house by Tuesday night. I will get a student or someone in to rent his room. He is twenty-two years old and hasn’t contributed to the house at all and I have had it. It will make it so much easier for me to have someone in to help pay the bills.

I went out to the car tonight to check for a receipt that I was missing and as I turned to come back inside, the first of a flock of fruit bats started flying overhead. At first there were five and then more and more came from the direction of Duck River (about two blocks away). I’d estimate that there must have been about thirty of them – I can’t imagine what all they would find to eat for that many. They were quite high up, high enough that I couldn’t hear the leathery flap of their wings. Three of them were quite large. You know they quarrel when they are feeding just like a couple of lorikeets. I guess bats on Christmas evening sounds kind of weird, eh?

Just before I started this post, I had a look at the Skeena again on Google Earth – they’ve added some roads or a trail!!! Tomorrow I will start adding them to my topo maps. The road starts at Hazelton and goes as far as the Babine River. There are some other trails marked but they aren’t continuous with the one to the Babine. Eventually, I will get them all plotted on the maps.

Well, it is only 11 p.m. but I am feeling a bit tired and want to do a bit of reading before I go to bed – reading Amy Tan’s new book "Saving Fish From Drowning". I finished Tim Winton’s "The Turning" and I had promised it to Edwina but I want to read it again before I loan it out. I think I promised it to Rick, too.

‘night, hon. I hope Jessie had an OK day – her first Christmas without you. Keith, I want to meet her – figure out how to make it happen, OK?

Love ya’, sweetie.

- Susan

posted by Susan @ 10:57 pm 0 comments

Christmas Day, Sunday 25 December 2005:

Hi, honey, me again.

It’s a very weird Christmas – this is the first Christmas that I’ve spent alone in many, many years (since way before Wozza was born and that was 1983). I’ve done all the food shopping and bought a few presents but that’s about it. Ho, ho, ho.

I forgot to tell you something! Warwick had an accident on the new motorcycle. It was just up a ways on our street – a van turned in front of him and he tried to stop and kept braking harder and harder and he finally flipped the bike. He hurt his elbow from the fall but is otherwise OK and all his protective gear is OK but not the bike. It isn’t exactly totalled but it will be a long, long time before it is back on the road and a lot of money will have to be spent. He still has to pay off the loan he took out, of course. I know what you’d say to him, "Get your bike fixed and get back up on it and go for it. You can never fail if you never quit.". That was special, hon, it really was, when you’d ring up and ask to speak to him and sort of motivate him like you did. Jessi and Craig are very lucky, even if Craig doesn’t yet agree.

Whenever I see the place that you and your Dad and Pop and Clayton are, it is *always* late Spring. What’s it like today – is it a white Christmas in Heaven?

Anyway, I miss you. I’ll write later.

- Susan

posted by Susan @ 9:40 am 0 comments

December 24, 2005

Christmas Eve, Saturday, 24 December 2005 [9:30 p.m.]:

Hi, my big Canuck, how are you?

Here it is, Christmas Eve already. All day I’ve felt as if it was last year’s Christmas Eve all over again, the feelings back then were so strong. We were in the house at Granville and that evening I was making those date cookies (my Mum’s recipe) to take the next morning to my neighbours. I hadn’t heard from you for a couple of days and was a little concerned. Then you send that MSN message that you were heading down to Vancouver and that you didn’t feel like talking to "people". I was out in the kitchen working and missed it and I was so disappointed that I had missed you. I was also a little P.O.-ed that you had called me "people" – like I was just another nameless somebody. I was your guardian angel all that night, watching over you as you made your way from 108 to Van. I kept checking in to the weather and highway conditions (and they were awful that night) and willed my watchful protection to go with you.

What I didn’t know for a while was that you had gotten sicker and had gone down to the hospital. It was the beginning of the end and I had no idea, no idea at all. And I hadn’t fallen in love with you yet but, even so, I watched over you like a tigress. I don’t how much strength you got from me at that point but I know you would have felt my presence, just like I felt yours on the 17th of December.

It wasn’t until mid January that I fell in love with you – too bad it hadn’t happened sooner while we could have spent some time together. And what a shame about Seoul. But we suited each other in a special way and each had to offer what the other needed. I will love you and thank you and miss you all my life, Keith – there is not a day without gratitude and love.

Venus is huge in the early evening sky every night. Our days are beginning to shrink and the Canadian ones to grow. Soon I’ll be on my way to the Skeena, sitting on the plane filled with excitement laced with a swirl of concern. You have given me so much strength and, in spite of every setback and apparent dilemma, I will persevere and find myself standing in her cold water and feeling you, like Clayton’s blanket, enveloping me and comforting me. You continue to give me great joy and satisfaction and even when I weep, I am grateful for it all.

I hope all is well with Jessi and Alison and the rest of your family. Don, that lovely bloke, is back at work and I hope faring well, too. Bruno and Jimmi must miss you, too – I hope that they have managed to keep from getting sick. Then there’s your friends: Ken and Paul and the pilot and Marty from Action A (didn’t want to write "AA" – LOL!) and everybody else whose names I don’t know. And a lot of guys at FAOL miss you, too – some didn’t know what had happened to you and some swore up and down that they had talked to you recently (who knows, maybe you have!).

Got to go, honey, it’s almost 10 p.m. and I haven’t really eaten today so I should go have something.

Merry Christmas, sweetheart, and thank you for the many, many gifts that you have given me. There is only one last gift that I need; if you can, would you please help with that?

Love for you always –


- Susan (your other tiger)

posted by Susan @ 9:56 pm 0 comments

I wrote the following eleven days ago and never finished or posted it. After I’ve posted this, I will begin a post for today, Christmas Eve.

Tuesday, 13 December 2005 [12:25 a.m.]: Hi there, Keith!

Tonight at dusk a bird was singing a beautiful song. Beautiful things, natural things always make me think of you. And I wished you were here so that we could hear it together. Tonight it’s occurred to me that we did hear it together because you are so much with me that what I see and hear, you do too. I’m sure that some people will find that odd but then they didn’t know you and they didn’t know the way that we were together.

I wound up being your chronicler, your (reaches for dictionary) amanuensis, your secret friend. Nobody knew how you’d wake up in the middle of the night, sleepless from the pain, and ‘phone me or get me on Messenger. Poor old Ken would go off, finally, to sleep and you, like a naughty boy with a secret, would ring me up. Nobody realised how you needed me – to make sense of your life, to relive your life, to come to terms with your life. I was special to you and that’s pretty damn amazing. You know that I’ve been in awe of you but I am not any longer. You are no less fantastic, no less special than you ever were but now I see myself in the way that you wanted me to. Other than Jessie, there was only me to be there for you in that way – your adoring disciple at your feet, hanging on every word. And now the research. So you have knocked me out and it took awhile but here I am a brand new person and all because of you. Hon, it was awesome. And with the trip there is plenty more to come! We complimented each other, didn’t we? Nothing worked out the way that I wanted but, apart from your illness, maybe everything worked out the way that it should have. I feel a bit sad to say that, but at the same time it is a joyful thing. I was there for you when you needed me and you were there for me when I needed a good, swift kick up the bum (needed it for years) and now I can stop being the willing victim.

But there is something that I still need to learn from you. I’ve been walking around doing this slow burn for decades. I’ve gotten angrier and angrier (and, sadly, ruder and ruder). It’s got to stop, I have to let it go, I have to learn to be more like you. Actually, not just in the anger department, but in all ways – I have to take on-board your approach to things. You were never, ever rude. We are both spontaneous, generous and, in some ways, child-like. And naïve. But I can be angry and rude and you, you precious thing, you never were.

posted by Susan @ 9:04 pm 0 comments

December 11, 2005

Sunday evening, 11 December 2005 [10:30 p.m.]:

Hey ya, Grizz!

Mowed my lawn and Stephen’s (the next door neighbour) and the hat was great – ‘cept for the top of my ears, it really works! So my sweat got added to your significant sweat – every day the smoke smell is less and less and it smells more and more like you. It’s a very nice thing to have, this olfactory symbol of you. Thank you so much, honey, to have taken the time when you had so very much to do, to arrange to have it sent to me.

When I was out with the mower (I decided that today was a good day to check the air filter) I got to thinking about when I was living on Walter Street and we talked so much on MSN Messenger – if only they had Voice back then!

Remember when I had that problem with the starter cord getting twisted up inside and I couldn’t start it? I will have to look inside your notebook and see when it was. And it must have been right around this time last year, too, that you asked if you could ring me and we had that three-hour talk. That’s when you told me about the leukaemia and I felt my guts just drop inside when you said it. I was a little surprised at the time at the strength of my reaction – maybe some part of me recognised early on how much you were going to come to mean to me, I don’t know.

It’s only barely 10:30 but I am going to finish here – I am so dirty and dusty from doing the mowing today that I am going to go have a nice shower, scrub my shoes and chuck my jeans in the wash. But, before I do, I’m going to go out in the yard and "see you in the stars" like you asked us to do. There were lots of stars to see you with last night in Hornsby Heights at Glenn "Two"’s place but this is so close to Sydney, we just don’t get to see them.

‘Night, you big hunky Canuck! ;-) I like the way you’ve been with me lately; maybe it’s because of the hat. A few tears lately though and tomorrow will make it ten months since you left us.

Love you, sweetheart…


- Susan

posted by Susan @ 10:40 pm 0 comments

December 08, 2005

Thursday, 8 December 2005 [10:15 a.m.]:

Hi, Keith, how are you doing up there? Say ‘Hi" to everyone from me.

I always have some sort of flowers in my room: I put them on the bedside table. They happen to be right in front of your picture so it sort of looks like an offering of sorts to you but of course they’re not, they’re for me.

When I woke up this morning I could, off and on, smell this thin thread of gardenia in the air. It reminded me of you in my life… woven right through it and always there. As if to confirm it, when I just went now to get my clothes out for my shower there, folded amongst the other clothes, was your moose print sweatshirt. Thank you for your thoughtfulness, honey.

Going to go, too weepy to sit here and need to get my sorry self in the shower.

Love and miss you –

- Susan

posted by Susan @ 10:19 am 0 comments

December 06, 2005

Tuesday, 6 December 2005 [8:30 p.m.]:

Hi, hon.

Every day your hat smells less and less of cigarettes and more and more like you. I didn’t realise how sad that having it would make me. At first it was an awful symbol of the fact that you had gone, then it turned into a proud statement of the meaning you ascribed to me in your life but now, I am afraid, it is making me terribly, terribly sad and I am missing you so. There are so many jerks in the world! And you were evidence that not everybody was and that someone so wonderful could actually, even in a small way, love me back. I think you haven’t been celebrated like you should have but I think that I have an idea of why your family is behaving in the way that they are. So I have to let it go.

There are so many people saying that I can’t "do" the Skeena. But I hear your voice over it all saying "You can never fail if you never quit" and I know that you are right. I have your pictures around me, I have your words in my album, and I have, right this minute, your hat on my head. I always tried to protect you and right now I need you to protect me a bit. But, this time last year we were happy, weren’t we? Like two dumb kids that didn’t know any better we didn’t see the storm that was brewing on the horizon.

I have to get my a$$ in gear – I haven’t worked at my lit review in awhile. I also haven’t worked with my maps – trying to update them (some go back as far as 1985!) using Google Earth. You’d *love* it, honey, it is just so cool. It would have been neat if you could have taken a screenshot of your place in 108 and I’d have it to match up with what’s on the ground ‘cuz when I’m there I really want to go and take a photo of the front of your place (all those pictures of the back and none of the front – LOL!). I want to see the drive you shovelled and the one you shovelled for your neighbour – there you were, so close to the end of you life and you were shovelling somebody else’s snow. (God damn it, I am crying so hard that I can’t see the keys at all.)

You have been gone almost ten months and I am crying like a baby for you. I cannot for the life of me understand what happened. And I will *never* understand why none of the plans that we made worked out. There are only a few things that I know for sure: that I loved you completely and absolutely, that you were the best thing that ever happened to me, that sometimes I made you very, very happy, that you taught me a whole new way to look at the world and to look at myself, that while I gave you many tangible gifts, you gave me gifts of the spirit and gifts that will live inside me forever. Again, all I can do is to thank you.

Honey, I am going to work with the maps or have a look at Tim Winton’s new book – every time I try to talk to you here, I just keep crying.

BTW: I hope Don is OK and that he’ll have a good Christmas. What a steadfast friend he is!

‘bye, hon, I’ll try not to cry next time but this weekend was soooo bad what with what happened with Jack and Terry F and Ross that I am just strung out completely. These jerks have no idea what sort of person they are getting measured by and there is no way in the world that most of these ordinary guys can ever measure up.

Love you –

- Susan

P.S.: One of the guys from FAOL, Biote Midge I think, is looking for a fly that you made and you guys traded. He asked for my address to send it to me if he finds it. Won’t that be *so* cool??? Honey, some of your friends and acquaintances are so nice.

posted by Susan @ 9:20 pm 0 comments

December 03, 2005

early Saturday morning, 3 December 2005 [12:30 a.m.]:

Hey ya’, my KD!

Hi, honey, how have you been? I’ve been pretty good, with a bit of a tendency to get a little teary off and on.

I love your hat so much! It’s a little less stinky than it was; it’s getting a good airing out. There’s a picture here with the ones that you sent me that I don’t know anything about – but it has your signature reflection on the water (is that a fish finder in the boat?). There is one fabulous photo of you hunting – it looks as if you are above the timberline. You are dressed all in camo with a rifle on your back and you have on that hunting hat with the fold up brims that you used to wear. Your hair is long and you look all scruffy and I just love it. You’ve got a full beard, too – honestly, you look like a classic picture of Jesus. I can’t see if you have your wedding ring on but it looks like an older photo so I guess that you probably you do. It looks as if you had this photo up on a wall somewhere ‘cuz on the back there is a bit of residue in the corners – what are you trying to tell me, honey? Is this when we should have met and been together? Is this near where you wanted to be laid to rest and you wanted me to see? Now we can’t talk about it and I miss you so much. You put a silver and green frame on it – it’s one of the few that you have framed.

Actually, now that I look at these closely it looks as if you had a few of them up on the wall. Did you have them up at 108? Trust your intuition – you sent them to the right person for I will always treasure them. You had so much to do there at the end and I appreciate it so much. I remember telling you that one of my very favourite photos was you with your trophy salmon and you got confused and couldn’t remember which one I was talking about. It was the one of you on the Kitimat with the spring salmon with your purple Bare shirt and Bare waders. You did get a bit confused those last couple of weeks – maybe it was the PV, maybe it was your meds, maybe it was just the stress of it all. Honey, I always tried so hard to "fix" everything and to make everything right. I am so, so sorry that I failed. Please know that I tried my damnedest.

Did I tell you that Ron Eagle Elk asked me to write him and his wife – that’s lovely, isn’t it. And I have to write back to Rene from Alaska, too. Ron said that he met you only once in Washington, does Bellevue sound right?

Today is a special anniversary – a year ago today your wrote me your first long email – a full A4 page, single-spaced. You were always so sweet; right from the very beginning. You, who always had so much to offer everyone, were always so sort of humble and approachable. How in the name of God could I have possibly gotten to know you without completely falling in love with you?

I ran into Dr Gil Vella who is the Head of the Biomedical Sciences School at the University. We spoke briefly about my Masters thesis and he suggested that I see one of the School’s lecturers next week. I’ll have to have a quick reread of some of the books that I have out ‘cuz they are due back and a look at the research that’s being done in South Australia before I see her so that I can be a bit definite about where I think I’m headed. I remember when you asked me to return to research and look at PV and I told you no. Well, I was being honest but my feelings about it has changed and I just don’t need to be elitist about it any longer – if you want me to look at PV, then PV is what I’ll do. It wasn’t an accident that we met, Keith, and I am sure that as I go along I will see the reasons for it more and more.

I know in my heart that you will be very proud of me on my trip up the Skeena. I sure am getting a lot of "nay sayers", though! I think that everyone thinks that I’ll just wind up being a bear sandwich or starve to death or be raped and murdered by an axe-wielding lumberjack gone wrong. Well, I reckon it’d be classic if I got done in by a bear – poetic justice really (I’m sure terrifying and painful but hopefully over soon - and then you can be there for me like Clayton was for you. We’ll get to have time together and we have so much to show each other!) Oh, I finally ordered a couple of shirts from that place in New Jersey that I got yours from – finally Susan is looking after Susan! One says "The Lure of Fly Fishing" and has a fish shape made all out of flies and the other is of a black bear. I was going to get a bear one like the bear one that I got you but then I decided that I didn’t need one that was so fierce so my bear one shows a bear superimposed on a dreamcatcher.

I’m hoping I get in touch with Paul and the pilot. I’m also sure that Don is back at work but he didn’t email me before he went – I was hoping that he would. I would really like to hook up with the man – to say thanks and also to get the 1,000s of questions answered.

Oh, I found out Alison and Paul’s surname and ‘phone number – now don’t go ballistic, I’m not going to ring them! That made me think of that beautiful card that I got for Alison that I never sent – I don’t even know what happened to it.

Going out with someone named Jack tomorrow evening. In the afternoon Warwick and I are planting sweet corn and some sunflowers. I know it’s awfully late to start planting but we’ve only just now gotten the rain. (And, boy, we’ve gotten a lot!)

Got to go. BTW: there’s a nice Scientific Anglers rod/reel case up for auction at eBay – I’m top bidder for the moment. Let’s hope I *stay* top bidder!

Love you muchly, miss you always, cry for you sometimes. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the hat (and the pictures and the shirt). Love –


- Susan

posted by Susan @ 1:27 am 0 comments