Personal Journal

National Jean Day

It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn

I wasn't expecting this, to be so upset today. I don't know why I didn't plan on it. Maybe I don't plan this anymore, and I flow with it more easily.

Tomorrow is the first birthday in the history of the lives of the people who knew Jean where she won't be here. And that sucks.

It hit me when I went to lunch. I just lost my appetite right there 2 minutes after I ordered.

And I'm sitting around here tonight not knowing what to do with myself, because there's no ability to feel anything positive anymore, so I'm listening to Blues Traveler, from the album "Four" (which I sent you two who were friends of Jean, I believe? I know I sent it to Kim.), the song Look Around, and I remembering those walks in the goddamn January snow. When it was cold, and I wore three layers and walked in the blasting wind or bitter cold. Because I needed something.

I still need it, and I know that not exercising plays a huge toll on my soul.

But that's not the main problem with my soul tonight. The absence of the ONE friend I wanted to need. That sounds so cliche, doesn't it? Oh, look, a man who only trusted one person because he's macho or an outcast or blahbedy blah blah.

No, I'm not that kind of many, really, not to myself, and not to people who really become my friends. But Jean and I went to a level of trust that I never before experienced. And acceptance. And love.

And I honestly do not know if I will ever feel that same feeling again. They say that it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all (well Shakespeare said it). And some part of me knows that it's true.

but did I have to know this pain?
Because if having that love was something I can never know if I will feel again, having this pain is wondering if I will ever truly be free of it in the future.

Not that it's omnipresent, but it's debilitating. I still think of it as predatory, but it has no will.

Perhaps I begin to make no sense to people outside my own head.

It's like my life has a trap and I keep stumbling over it. Whoever set the trap was the cunning one, and continues to surprise me. With his resourcefulness.

Ah, well. I do know it passes away again.

My mom sent me flowers today. Beautiful tulips. My mom rather hit a good one this time, because I found it incredibly touching of her to remember this today. She said in the card with them "Remembering Jean. Love mom."

Nice job, mom. I'll have to call and thank you for that. You remembered Jean's birthday. Touching and impressive.

But tomorrow I have to call Minnie, and to be truthful, I need to call Jean's brother Walter and Jean's SIL. As she used to refer to Patty.

What am I going to say to them?
That was thewhole point I wanted to journal tonight.

What on god's earth am I going to say to Jean's mom, and family.

Do I say I'm sorry?
Do I tell them I wanted to remember Jean on her birthday with them?
What do I do?
I want to call and say I'm sorry. And to let them know that .... I have no idea.... that I'm still hurting? That I still miss Jean? These are not trophies and these are very personal things. They've never really been interested in talking about it with me, and I haven't forced myself onto them.

I should have gotten Jean's mom flowers myself. I don't know why I didn't think about that before now. I guess I didn't really examine what this day would mean to me, because it was inevitable that it would do this - cause me pain.

Jean's mom called me yesterday and she left a message on my machine. And I could tell that this issue was bothering her, even though she didn't mention it directly at all. She wanted to know if the humane society in new jersey, who received 40K from Jean's life insurance, had ever said a thank you. I'll have to tell her that they did, but they did it long before we receive the money, but did it as soon as I contacted them with the information that they were a beneficiary. But the fact that she was thinking about this at all, in any way, says a lot to me.

I'm not sure how I provide comfort to Minnie, because I don't know that she knows how to receive it. Certainly not from me.

I wish I knew what to do.