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Deni's Journal


HERE!
I Want My Monkey
posted April 04, 2005 at 22:11

The hardest part of each day is beginning it. When I open my eyes in the morning, for less than a second, I think everything is okay. I look beside me and expect to see him. Sometimes I imagine he was just on a trip and slipped into bed late at night and I didn't hear him - like when the Nixon Clocks would play in another city or a couple hours out of Pittsburgh. I could never rest until he was home safely, yet I usually didn't wake up when he got home. On the nights he was away he always brought me a stuffed monkey - usually from a gas station where they stopped. He ALWAYS brought me a monkey - then everything was okay again because we were together.
But less than a second goes by and it all comes rushing back. I scream in my head, " Oh my God! This is still happening!"
Then less than a second after that - I see Madi. She has always slept with us and I just can't break the habit. I need her there as much as she needs to be there. I take a few moments just to watch her sleep. Her features are amazing and flawless. She has these long black eyelashes that contrast her blue eyes and blond hair. Her lips are so pink that people ask if she is wearing lipstick. I kiss her sweet little face and say, "It's wake up time, Sleeping Beauty." Then Ethan stirs. I try to get to him before he cries. His face lights up when he sees me. His eyes are so blue in the morning.
It's so contradictory. I don't understand how I lost so much, but, yet have so much. And it's hard to appreciate what I do have because of how much I lost.
I'm determined to write something positive. So, here it is - I had a good day today. I cried probably only about six times today (trust me - that's good). But, that's not what I base the "good" part on. Of course, I cry. Anyway, I actually did a bunch of stuff. I got up about 7:30 (extremely early for me) and showered and got all the kids stuff ready before they woke up (and don't forget the time change!). I got my taxes done and signed Madi up for a dance class and a soccer class. I paid some bills and scheduled some appointments that I've been putting off. I bought new phones for the house. My phones can't keep a charge for more that six minutes. They go dead on me without any warning in mid sentence. However, it will be hard to put them aside. There is a message from Rich on the answering machine. I listened to it tonight for the first time in over a year. He said, "Hello! Are you guys there?" He left it before we officially knew he was sick. And I mean only days before. He sounded so happy and healthy. I don't want to lose it. There used to be two other messages on there. The second one was that stupid Dr. M. He said something like - oh, I hear you're not feeling well - I guess I can see you. The third message was left by the nurse at the chemotherapy lab two days after the blood work they took after his one and only chemo treatment. She was so positive and excited about the results. She said all his "levels" were higher. I remember us listening to it together. I remember saying something like, "See? It's working!", in references to macrobiotics - oh, the swill I made him ingest. I don't remember doing it, but I guess I erased the PCP and nurse's messages - I used to play them over and over again - and wonder what went wrong. There was also a message that I had saved from Rich on my cell phone. It was the day of his chemo and I was out getting all the meds that went along with it. He left a message looking for the samples of the anti-nausea meds the doctor gave him. He thought I had them. He sounded so sad and so sick, but I couldn't erase it. So, the first of every month, when I checked my voice mail, it would play. I think it was a November day when I erased it. I cried and screamed, " I love you, but I can't hear you that way one more time."
I accomplished some other tasks today too, but it's 2 AM and if I want to accomplish anything tomorrow I should go to sleep. But, I'm still going to hope that my monkey is there in the morning.

 
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  For a Minute There
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