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The New Box
One day while doing some yard work I realized that two people had been
buried: my wife, and the husband of a terminal cancer patient. Me. A new
person was created - the widower. He would have many of the same
characteristics of the husband, but he was also different. He certainly
was unsure of himself. In addition, it would take some time to become used
to that role. Nevertheless, the old role was gone. With that realization,
all of the knowledge and insight I had gained during our struggle became
trivia. I could feel my interest in cancer waning. As a tribute to her,
and the other women and men in this situation, I vowed to tell this story.

Physical Possessions
With the passage of time, there is a need or feeling to clean house.
Carlene had many things that could be used by others. Offers to help were
made, but I needed to do this in the right order. I wanted to touch
everything one last time. Some clothes and shoes were special like the
rabbit ear slippers, to be saved in her box for future remembrances. Other
items could be used by my daughter or relatives. So I did the first
sorting and then asked for help. There are still some things remaining,
but I have plenty of space so it is not time-critical. The good jewelry is
in the safe deposit box, waiting for the children to use it. The costume
jewelry was sorted into bags, so all her friends can have a piece or two.

Financial Matters
Of all the activities undertaken, this has been the easiest. Carlene was
an accountant and so we have very good records. Even still, it is a
complex area. The will she signed two years ago is now her final
instruction to the world. On the day of her death, the taxman created a
new entity - her estate. It consists of half of everything we had. It
needs to be valued as of that date. Everything. That chore took me the
better part of three weeks. But, it was mind clearing and got me back into
a sense of doing something productive. With even a modest estate,
pre-planning is critical to ensure that things occur as you want them to.
As the lawyer filed the will in probate court, I saw a crowd. The guys in
three-piece suits were proving that death isn't cheap, while the other
lost souls wondered what to do next. The older widows were often
accompanied by a friend or relative.

Childbirth and Death
I used this analogy in discussing grief with our children. The pain of
childbirth is intense. A rational being would only do it once. But, that
pain is forgotten as the child grows and provides happiness to the mother
and father. Grief after a death is like the other side of the mirror. The
absence of the person causes you to remember the good times and you are
sad because they will never reoccur. But, history never reoccurs. The past
good times are always just memories. You try to project future events,
ignoring the physical change that the body goes through. You know that the
cancer will never repair the body, and yet you envision future events
without a wheel chair and oxygen and the drugs. Each time I start to
grieve for future events, I try to picture her in her last days. And, I
realize it was God's plan to give us the time we had together. He was
always with us, providing strength and love.

Unique Relationships
Another thought I gave to my children and her parents was the idea of
uniqueness in grieving. At times, I feel like I am adjusting to the new
reality quicker than others. There are several possible reasons. First, I
have known her death was coming for over 18 months. From the time Dr.
Death said "it has metastasized", and we asked, "so what does that really
mean?", the inevitable had been foremost in my mind. Second, a spouse is
chosen from a large group of people. In your early days, you spend time
interviewing a number of candidates for that role. The one you pick is
special, but you also know subconsciously that there are other people who
might have filled it. However, to family members there is only one first
child, oldest sister, mother, or aunt. That role was not a choice, it was
God-given and can never be replaced. Their grief is different from mine in
a subtle but significant way. Knowing and understanding the difference
both helps and hurts.

I may find another companion and partner, but my wife's position in their
lives can never be replaced. If and when I find a new partner, how can she
fill the shoes of a saint? Who would want too?

A World of Mannequins
As a happily married man for over 22 years, I was comfortable in the
presence of other women, married or single. My wife and I trusted each
other and our fidelity. I had a security blanket. In a sense, other women
were store window mannequins. I might notice a coat or the clothes (or
some other feature), but not the face or the person. I and they had
superficial relationships. They were not real. Now they are. The security
blanket is gone and I have to wonder what did she mean by that. I hope
that I will remarry. I miss my wife greatly, for herself, but also for the
communication and companionship that is integral to a happy marriage,
which is a tribute to her. Life is lonely by myself, even with a teenage
daughter. In middle age, there are few friends I can call and say - let's
have some beer tonight and party! They reply, I'll have to ask my wife
first.

Day by Day
People want to help. They will ask questions. The most common is, how are
you? For a while, I said I was on an elevator in a tall building that
opened to various floors. Some floors I could explore, others I could not.
Now, I have moved to, I've had better days and I've had worse days. There
really is no appropriate quick response. But, thank you for asking. When
you visit with others who have had a loss, I suggest you ask, tell me
about a good memory you had today of ______. That is a wonderful way of
showing concern and respect.

Retrospective - A Question for the Oncologist
Can you do anything to help? In all of the procedures and treatment
Carlene undertook, I have to question if any were actually productive,
i.e., did any extend her life. None "cured" her. The cancer always came
back, to new areas eventually. Actually, "came back" is not the correct
term. Progressed is probably better. At times we can't see it and so we
don't think it is there, but months or years later it shows up. Was it
ever really "gone" or just below the radar level of current technology.

And yet for some lucky women, they only have to worry about it coming back
(after the initial procedures) for the rest of their lives. Knowing the
side-effects of the treatment regimen and the fact that the success of
various drugs falls in the range of a coin flip, I have to ask "why don't
we have predictor tests"? A swab of your throat will determine if you have
strep and that penicillin will kill it. If it is negative, that treatment
is not performed. The patient is spared the side effect and society is
spared the expense. Having excellent insurance coverage, it is impossible
for me to determine the total dollar cost of her treatment. I estimate it
at over a half million dollars. Other than the initial surgery which
removed a 2.5 cm tumor, and the palliative radiation treatment, I really
wonder if any of the drugs extended her life.

Or perhaps, the mere fact that the medical industry was doing something
was mental support to keep her going.