Early Lives

In some ways, the early lives of me and Joe were similar, but in most ways very different.  We both grew up in North Carolina and were raised Southern Baptist.  Mind you, the Southern Baptist of the 50’s, 60’s and early 70’s were not the same as the Southern Baptist of today.  While yes, we were taught the word of Christ and had a very strict “code of conduct” at the time we were being broughtup in  the church, the more conservative fringe had not taken over.  There was still a sense of progressive thinking on many topics and theologically speaking, more in line with the other mainline Protestant faiths.  That changed in the mid 70’s as both of us were nearing high school graduation and then on to college.  The early Baptist upbringing did however instill a good basic knowledge of the tenants of the faith that we each developed throughout our lives.  But this is where our paths started to differ with regard to faith.

Since Joe was a church musician since his junior high school days, he continued with a church job through high school, college and throughout the rest of his life.  His faith developed and continued to evolve. Church on Sunday was a mainstay in his life as he accompanied and directed choirs his entire life.  His faith grew stronger and he never wavered in his faith.  I however took a different path.  The church I grew up in had major troubles during my late high school years.  I witnessed less than Christ like behavior from the adults and lay leaders of our church and it pushed me away.  I sought out other faiths, even going so far as to convert to Judaism.  This was not without its own issues as I did it for all the wrong reasons.  Not out of true belief, since I continued to believe in Jesus Christ, but out ofrebellion against  what I saw as a hypocritical church: The Southern Baptist church I grew up in.  Once off to college I left the Judaism behind and became a lapsed everything, not attending church or temple.  Since my high school graduation, I have been in the church I was raised in 2 times. Once in 1997 for my mother’s funeral and then again in 2011 for the funeral of the mother of my best friends growing up.  From the time we met, Joe tried and tried toget me to attend PGUMC with him.  I fought it tooth and nail, only giving in for his special music occasions.  Most notably Easter and Christmas.  I guess I became a “Christer”, those people that only attend on those days.  From time to time I would go when his nagging became too much.  I always enjoyed myself when there and everyone was always extremely welcoming. But my bad experience growing up, kept me from going regularly.  When Joe was diagnosed, I started attending more regularly, and eventually every week. In the summer of 2011, I joined the church.

Besides the difference in our faith routes, there were of course other things that created a difference in how we looked at life.  Joe grew up in a very close knit family comprised of his father, mother, brother and sister.  His family was in frequent contact with his parent’s siblings as well as their parents.  He had wonderful memories of visits with both sets of grandparents and his uncles, aunts and cousins.  Joe was the oldest child in his family and the oldest of his cousins.  I grew up in a family comprised of my mother, sister and brother.  My father died in a traffic accident when I was four years old. I have very limited memories of him and quite honestly can’t tell if my memories are real or are just stories told to me when I was young that I just assume are memories.  Both sets of grandparents were deceased before I was born and since my father died when I was so young, we really didn’t have a lot of contact with my father’s side of the family after his death.  My mother was the only girl in a family of 5.  Her four brothers were older and she was the youngest.  We grew up visiting her brothers family in Wilmington on a regular basis, and occasionally saw 2 of her other brothers and their families.  By the time I was elementary age, two of her brothers had died and so our contact with her family became limited to just her brother and family in Wilmington.  I was the youngest child in my family and the youngest of all the cousins.

Joe used to tell me stories of his school days and they were always happy ones.  He grew up in Roanoke Rapids and attended school there much his life. Everyone knew everyone and from his stories, he enjoyed the fact that his class was smaller in size and with his incredible memory for details, which he inherited from his mother, could tell stories and names of kids he went to school with from grades 1-12.  If he ever had any issues with the other kids in school, he never told me about it.  Joe however was not one to dwell on negative experiences, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were issues, he just never told me about them.  Maybe it was his size, or the fact that everyone knew everyone, but from his stories, his school life in Roanoke Rapids was a solid, happy one.

The stories of my school life are quite different.  Similarly to Joe, I grew up in a small town where everyone knew everyone.  My early years in school were happy ones as well. The kids that I grew up with from elementary school for the most part remained my friends throughout my entire school experience and some of them are still my friends to this day.  However, during my middle school years, some things started to change.  First, instead of everyone attending Hope Mills School from grades 1-12, they began to build elementary schools and changed Hope Mills School to Hope Mills High School. With the building of elementary/middle schools that went from grades 1-8 meant that students that I didn’t grow up with from outlying areas that had previously attended other schools were redistricted to the schools I attended.  When the new students arrived was when my school experience started to change.  It was no secret to anyone that met me that I was different.  In elementary school I had been called the occasional name, most often “sissy”.  But being a child, I usually just let it go and went about my business.  By the middle school years, the name calling became more aggressive and progressed to more lewd names such as “fag”, “faggot” or “queer”.  Usually the taunts were from kids that I hadn’t grown up with, but also usually, there were kids with the taunters that had known me their entire lives.  I can’t remember a single time when one of my friends ever stood up for me and said anything to the name callers.  That hurt my feelings, but I coped.  I understood peer pressure.  I was under a lot of peer pressure, just a different kind.  I just concentrated on my school work and basically stopped any type of after school activity where the environment might not be controlled as easily by an adult or teacher.  By high school, Cumberland County had grown significantly and my sophomore year, 3 new high schools opened in one year.  This meant a lot of redistricting.  Mostly it meant an influx of large quantities of people that I didn’t know and didn’t know me.  At the time, the school that I attended, South View Senior High was the largest in the county.  Even with just 10^th, 11^thand 12^th grades we numbered nearly 1500.  To say I enjoyed high school would be acomplete lie.  Yes there were parts that I have fond memories of, but those are mostly just due to close friends and a teacher or two.  By the 10^thgrade with all the new kids around, the taunting escalated.  Today we would call it bullying or harassment.  Back then I just called it misery.  Even though I was significantly taller than most, I was also very thin.  By 10^thgrade I was my current 6’5”, but I also weighed around 150 lbs.  I would regularly be shoved into lockers, called names in the hall, bumped into in the cafeteria when taking my tray to a table and other forms of intimidation. My only respite was in class.  At least there, the teacher usually had some semblance of control.  So I continued to study and get good grades.  A basic high school nerd with a few “cool” friends from my childhood.  My junior year was when it really got bad for me. One day during class change, as I was going down the stairs from the 2^ndto the 1^st floor, even though at that particular time the stairway was not crowded, just a few students, I felt a distinctive shove from behind.  I never saw who did it.  It didn’t seem like an accident, but it is possible that it was.  Regardless, I went falling down 2 flights of stairs.  Upon landing at the bottom I knew immediately there was a problem as my ankle was screaming in waves of pain.  The other students just passed me by.  It’s possible someone asked if I was ok, I don’t remember.  I do know that no one offered to help.  As the class bell rang, I still lay on thefloor.  I repeatedly tried to stand but could not.  I did manage to collect my books into a pile and I sat there.  After a few minutes, a teacher did walk by and saw me.  She helped me to the office where I called my mother to come get me and she took me to the doctor.  It was only a bad sprain, but I was on crutches for a couple of weeks.  After that and on through the next year, I was very wary of going down the stairs and always held onto the rail, even if it meant waiting until the stairwell was almost empty to go down it.  The name calling continued, the shoving into lockers continued, the threats to be beaten up continued.  Slowly, some of the people that I had known for years distanced themselves from me.  That part hurt worse than the rest.  Friends who just went away.  But not everyone did mind you.  I still had friends, but most of them were oblivious to what each day was like for me. I stopped socializing after school completely.  I remained in a couple of clubs, but rarely took part in any activities, just went to meetings where the teacher/sponsor would be in attendance.  I didn’t talk about it at home.  I didn’t talk about it to anyone.  The first time I ever talked about it was with Joe.  Although bullying in schools is a topic that has generated a lot of press recently, it isn’t new.  It is just worse for kids today as there are so many more avenues for the bullies to do their damage.

College was a wonderful time for Joe.  I have heard stories and stories and stories.  You know someone had a great college experience when they can remember the names of professors and fellow students 30+ years after graduation. Part of that is that yearly Joe would attend various music conferences and music educators’ conferences.  At these occasions he would see people from his college days, both students and faculty.  He absolutely loved his conferences.  He always came back home in a wonderful mood, rejuvenated and filled with stories.  He also kept in touch with his college roommates.  Most notably, Rob Hugh.  Rob was his roommate and his best friend.  Along with Rob’s wife Lola, they kept in touch constantly by both phone and visits.  Two better people don’t exist.  Joe regaled me with stories of running the projector at the Baptist Student Union (you know he loved being in charge of movies) as well as class time and other social activities.  Another item that he spoke of often was the various eating establishments in Greensboro and around the campus of UNCG.  As you might have guessed, Joe loved food.  But he loved UNCG.  He was a devoted alumnus and I never heard him speak of a bad experience there.  But again, even if there were some, knowing Joe, he would not have spoken of it.

My college days were also good ones, but not like Joe’s.  I was more the “wild child” experiencing my first taste of freedom.   While I made good friends there, I didn’t keep in touch for very long afterwards and I couldn’t tell you the name of a single professor if my life depended on it.  I remember all my roommates and the fun we had.  They were all good guys and unfortunately a couple of them met with very untimely deaths much too young.  But my college days were good ones and I remember East Carolina University fondly.

After school our paths took different directions.  Joe bowed to perceived pressure and married.  The marriage was not a happy one and after 17 years ended in a very bitter, contentious divorce.  Having come out in college, at least to friends, I went down the road of a single gay man.  Dating, having short lived relationships and eventually a more meaningful one that lasted for 4 years.  In 1998 Joe and I met.  Joe swore that he remembered me from the days that I worked at Record Bar in Fayetteville and that I turned my nose up at him when he asked for help finding the latest Barbra Streisand album.  I have no recollection of that, but it is entirely possible.  I do however remember very vividly the day we met and every day after that.  After a very brief, 2 months, breakup a couple of months after we started dating (I felt Joe was getting too serioustoo quickly) we resumed our relationship. In October 1999, I left my life in Fayetteville & Hope Mills and moved to Durham to be with him.  We lived for 4 years in the townhome he had purchased in 1998 and then in 2003, built the home that I still live in.  The home that Joe died peacefully in.  Many, many wonderful memories fill the rooms of that home on Mallory Lane.  So much so that it is currently a very difficult decision for me as to whether to keep the house or sell it.  For one person, it is much too large.  Joe and I had planned on selling the home this spring and looking for a one level townhome.  Main reason, Joe was concerned he might become wheelchair bound or at the very least, unable to climb stairs.  A part of me wants to go ahead and make the change and find a small one level townhome or condo.  Something more appropriate for me by myself.  Something that would put me in better shape financially.  But then there is the emotional attachment to the home we built together.  I have been told by friends, family and therapists, to not make any decisions for at least 6 months.  Doing so before apparently results in regret in many people.  So for now, I will take their advice.  Each day I try to look forward and face the day with hope.  My memories are precious as that is all I have right now.  Although at many times they result in tears flowing, eventually the tears stop and I can smile.  I look at Joe’s photos and I smile.  I look at them and I cry.  Both the tears and the smiles are born out of love for him and grief at his passing. However, I do know that I carry him with me every moment of everyday.  Although there is a void inside of me there is also an equal amount of love for him inside of me.  Someday, although the physical void will never be filled, hopefully the love will replace that space inside and the smiles will turn into grins and laughter.  You see, I do have hope.   One of the main reasons is my Pleasant Grove United Methodist Church family.  Take a few minutes and listen to the podcast of the most recent "Ask Jay" episode (Jay Minnick is our minister for those that might not know).

ASK JAY

P.S. I had one of those "Joe is watching me" moments Yesterday. When I went to the Stations of the Cross at PGUMC yesterday afternoon, just as I opened the sanctuary door, his recording from his CD "A Time of Centering" of "In the Garden" began. When Joe was picking out songs for that CD he asked me what my favorite old hymn was. I told him "In the Garden" because my mom had told me it was my dad's favorite and I had grown up with the feeling that every time I heard it, I felt a little connection to my dad who died when I was four years old. So with that, he ordered a beautiful arrangement of the song and put it on the CD. How perfect that at the moment I opened the door his amazing recording of the song began to play. Yes I had plenty of tears and found it hard to read the prayers at each station but I made it. Afterward I sat in the sanctuary alone and listened to the rest of the CD. I could close my eyes and see my love sitting at the piano playing. What an amazing talent. I am so blessed to have been loved by such a man.

A Red Letter Day

Well actually, it was a Red Symbol day. Today the Supreme Court heard arguments about the repeal of Proposition 8. As the tide of public opinion changes in America (the latest national poll shows 53% of Americans now believe in marriage equality - the number was 40% in 2007), eventually DOMA will be struck down as unconstitutional and everyone, gay or straight, will be considered equal in the eyes of the law with regard to marriage. This equality was something that Joe felt very strongly about. One of the reasons, besides the fact that he loved me, that he wanted to get married in 2011 was because he hoped that someday DOMA would be officially ruled illegal and that I might be able to get his retirement benefits as well as Social Security. While that isn't exactly the most romantic of reasons to get married, it was a reason born out of love and concern for me. I'm not delusional enough to think that the hearing of today's case before the Supreme Court will have any immediate effect on my life, or possibly will ever effect me. However, it is a first step towards equality. That equality was something that Joe was extremely passionate about. He was uncompromising in that passion too. Early on in our relationship he was very upfront with anyone and everyone about us. Sometimes even to the point that it caused me concern. In the public school system teachers have to be careful about how they are viewed by students, parents, coworkers and administration. However, from the very beginning I was introduced to everyone as his partner. Meeting his principle in 1999 for the first time, that is how he introduced me. Subsequently, the two principles that followed were introduced to me the same way. Most every parent of a student that I met, knew me as Joe's partner, as did his students. I worried this would cause him problems at work. If it ever did, he never let on. He loved me and was very proud of our relationship and then our marriage. Joe was anxious for today to come. Were he still here, he would be scouring the Internet for news.  Only time will tell, but regardless, we are one step closer as the nation is forced to confront their feelings and fears about marriage equality. Why some fear it?...I have no idea. I would venture a guess that there isn't a single married couple in the USA whose marriage was adversely affected by mine and Joe's marriage on August 19, 2011.

Facebook today has been a flutter with the red equality symbol as people show support for marriage equality.  It has been beautiful to watch.

Since last weeks post not much has happened.  My weekend was filled with laundry and basketball.  This is the one time a year when Joe and I didn't do much together.  Joe tolerated my Duke basketball obsession.  He never complained and always let me watch games.  He of course would be reading, on the computer or talking on the phone.  Another way he showed me love:  not complaining during tournament time.  Besides an ongoing ordeal with Duke Energy, the last few days have been uneventful.  But that is okay.

Thank you to everyone who continues to keep me in their thoughts and prayers.  This week I have had the joy to reconnect with a wonderful friend who I haven't seen in a while.  Thanks Rebecca for reaching out.  I see a dinner in our near future when you are feeling better.   As I said before, the red equality symbol has been everywhere today and it has made me smile.  Some have been very inventive, but these are my two favorites.  Can you guess which one Joe would like best?  If you knew him, it would be easy.   Much, much love and a heaping pile of gratitude!

Just One of Those Days

Actually instead of a day, more like just the last 24 hours. It began last night after dinner when I had the bright idea of syncing my iPad with iTunes since I had not done so since late last year. So after opening iTunes on the laptop, I went into the settings on my iPad to do the wireless sync. Well for some reason the iPad wasn't recognizing that iTunes was open on the laptop and so the sync icon would not work. Therefore I said what the heck, I'll do it the old fashioned way and plug the iPad into the computer. I did, it recognized the iPad and the sync began. After going for about 20 minutes, all of a sudden the laptop shut down and started to reboot. Updates were installing....with no warning. Finally the laptop came back up and then I got the message on the iPad, " iTunes" and a symbol of a USB connection pointing at the word. Well of course I reopen iTunes and then get the message that " iPad in recovery mode. Press continue to reset iPad to the original factory settings." We'll I don't want to reset it to factory settings! I have photos, email, documents, practically every facet of my life for the last two years is on the thing. Then it really hit me.....all my candid photos of Joe for the past two years are there. Every doctors appointment, chemo infusion, trip, laying on the couch, sitting on the patio, hospital stay...EVERY PHOTO OF JOE IS ON THERE AND I HAVE NO WAY TO RETRIEVE THEM. To say I was stressed is putting it mildly. But I didn't get hysterical or anything. No "Holland fit" as Joe called it. I just sat here for 30 minutes looking at the message with tears running down my cheeks. What could I do? I had no choice but to press continue. Calm, sad resignation. So I did and I sat and watched as the software reset. It took about 15 minutes before a message came on the laptop screen asking me if I wanted to name this iPad or did I want to use the old name, "Jeff's iPad". I of course said use the old one. That was when the miracle began. Slowly it started adding everything that had been on the iPad, back onto it. After about an hour, the iPad came back to life, with everything on it...including my photos. Then I did cry.

Today when I got home there was a letter from a collection service wanting $164 for Duke Energy. But the collection was under Joe's name. So I called Duke Energy and lo and behold, the old account shows $164 due and the new account shows a $164 credit. Guess who credited the wrong account? So after dealing with that (talking to service providers on the phone is one of my least favorite things to do), I started heating up some barbecue for my dinner. The barbecue was frozen so I was having to break it up as it heated up. Being the non cook that I am, I managed to knock half of it out of the pan and onto the stove. Being the idiot that I am, I move the pan over to another burner, turn off the flame, then reach for the iron burner stand to get the barbecue out from under. With the burner only being off for approximately 20 seconds, the metal was quite warm. One might say hot. Burning hot. The fingers on my left hand are evidence. Large burning blisters on two fingers. It makes typing fun. :( But the barbecue was good!

Lets hope tomorrow is less eventful!

A Quick Post Before Bedtime

If you read my post from earlier in the week, you know this has been an emotional week for me. (so what is is new, right?)  Yeah, I know same story different week.  But as the week wore on, nothing really got better.  Especially my oncoming cold or allergies.  I haven't been able to figure out which it is.  Early in the week I had sinus headaches so I knew there was going to be at least one day of a runny nose coming as the pressure built.  By Thursday I was sneezing and sneezing and the nose was running. So since then I've been taking a little extra allergy medication and some cold stuff to be on the safe side.  At least I've been sleeping well!  

This morning after watching one of my "all time favorite movies" (Sabrina, the remake with Harrison Ford, not the original with Audrey Hepburn) I drove to Greenville to spend the day with Joe's mom and go to Brittany's 14th birthday celebration dinner.  Oh boy, did I eat.  It's been more than 3 hours and I am still stuffed beyond belief.  I had a really nice time talking with Joe's mom all afternoon.  We seem to be able to comfort each other.   After dinner, I took her home and then drove on back to Durham.  Now I'm sitting here watching b-ball and waiting for the cold medication to click on and drowsiness to arrive.

Tomorrow will be a one service Sunday for me at PGUMC.  I'm just going to do the 8:30am service and then head home.  Jill is out of town so there is no one to have breakfast with and I need to trim the limbs on the trees in the backyard so I might as well get it done early so I will have the afternoon to nap.  Not much better than a Sunday afternoon nap.

Next week will be a week more like I've been used to with a counseling session mid week and lots of listings coming on the market (I've already been warned by several agents at the office -  Whoopee!!! ...please note the sarcasm!)

A big thank you to everyone who has checked in with me and reached out this week.  I am lucky to have such caring people in my life.  Please continue to keep me in your prayers.

Bad Night

I am notorious for bad timing and some would say bad choices. That some would be Joe. How many times did he just shake his head after I had one of my patented "Holland" fits? Those fits usually either followed or resulted in a bad choice. Tonight however, there isn't a fit to blame for anything. Tonight is a result of a bad choice of something to pass the time. That choice? Browsing through all the photos on my iPad. What are most of those photos of? If you said Joe, then you would be correct. I didn't intend to look at photos of Joe but rather initially started looking through the photos I had on my iPad in an effort to get rid of photos that I didn't need or want to keep. However, I documented many of Joe's doctors appointments, chemo infusions, emergency department visits and hospital stays on my iPad. From early during the time of his surgery all the way through the last 23 months. It's like a photo dairy of the changes that Joe went through. Why was this a bad choice? Besides that it brought on a rather intense episode of anxiety, but this episode is in the same week when I do not have a counseling session. Jennifer was going to be out of town most of the week so I opted last week to just skip this week and schedule for next week. It seemed like a good idea at the time. (hint: bad timing) So rather than just sit here continuing to cry and carry on, I decided to start writing.

Tons of thoughts going through my head. Some about Joe during the time of his illness, some about the times before. Some about when we first met. Some about the life we had planned that will never happen now. Joe used to tell me time and again that he had waited his whole life for me. I used to just laugh and say "sure you did". But in reality, I know that he really believed that. I know that he loved me so incredibly much. I felt it every day and I still feel it. Maybe that is why it hurts so much. I know that we had something so incredibly special and rare. I remember the day I told him I loved him and the look on his face. We were standing in the kitchen of my house in Hope Mills after Hurricane Floyd had come through and a tree had come through the roof of my house. That day, he drove down, without letting me know and just showed up. Why, because he knew how upset I was over the damage and even though he couldn't help with the roof, he could be there and help calm me and hold me. I looked at him that day and told him I loved him. He stood there and tears ran down his cheeks. Tears of happiness. He had waited for nearly a year to hear me say it. Such was his patience.

Another thought that keeps coming and coming into my brain and I can't seem to get it to go away is an example of my bad timing and a bad choice. On the night that Joe died, instead of following my usual Sunday night routine of getting the trash together first by getting the downstairs trashcans dumped and then going upstairs to our bedroom and bath, I chose to not go upstairs since we had only been home from the hospital for 2 full days and there was hardly anything at all in the trashcans upstairs. So rather than going back upstairs, I gathered the trash downstairs, took it out to the big trashcan and rolled it out to the curb. Why didn't I go upstairs like I usually did? Maybe Joe was struggling and I could have done something to help. Maybe I could have delayed what I know was inevitable, but he might possibly still be here with us. Why did I make the choice to change my routine that one night? That's one bad choice I will never have the opportunity to correct. That's one matter of bad timing that I will regret for the rest of my life. I discussed this will my counselor and even discussed it with Joe's mom. My head can come up with reasons but my heart can't. I've been told by those that I've talked with that more than likely, there would have been nothing I could have done. Joe had a DNR and DNI order. I could have called 911 until the cows came home but they would not have been able to do anything once he stopped breathing or his heart stopped beating. Some have said it was Joe's choice to die when I was not in the room. That he would not have wanted me to be a witness to his death. That he waited until I was out of the room. I try to take comfort in that but so far it hasn't helped.

So I looked at photos. Photos from the years before his diagnosis. Photos of us together oblivious to what the future held. Photos where we thought we had all the time in the world. Photos where we had no idea what the future actually held. Photos after diagnosis where Joe continued to smile and try not to let on to how scared he actually was. Photos where Joe's smile covered his fear for what my life would be like after he was gone. He loved me. He worried about me. Some nights when we would go to bed, a big sadness would come over him and he would cry. Each time I would ask why he was crying he would always say he was worried about me. So selfless, so loving, so Joe Lupton. He used to ask me why I loved him and my answer was always the same thing: You are the best person I have ever known. Truly a good person. Never having a bad thing to say about anyone. Always looking for something positive no matter what might have been said or done. Always forgiving. Always seeing the best in everyone. I can only remember one occasion when he couldn't offer complete forgiveness to someone. On that occasion, I was livid, having a "Holland fit". He was angry but rather than resort to yelling and carrying on. He handled the situation with poise and in a truly Joe Lupton like manner. The occasion: A student had stolen his credit card number and gone on an internet shopping spree. She was caught. The school only gave her a slap on the wrist but he did press criminal charges. Of course, the justice system didn't do anything either but Joe got the last laugh. A very classy one. Of course she did have to leave his class but during a drama in class performance "talent show" type of production, she had chosen to sing a Broadway tune. Others had planned to sing and Joe had offered to accompany them on the piano. But he told the drama teacher up front that he would not play for her. I guess she didn't believe him, but Joe was a man of his word. When she stepped up to sing her song, Joe just sat there. Stone faced, yet looking her in the face. Hands at his side, never touching the keys. She tried it a cappella but not having someone to accompany her left her warbling all the wrong notes. Joe came home that day with a little satisfaction. Not revenge, but just happy that he had held firm and not given in to the pressure from the outside. The school nor the justice system had helped him, so he helped himself. This story may not paint a saintly picture of Joe, but then he wasn't a saint. Just the best person I have ever known and I expect that I will ever know.

I hope everyone who might be reading this had the chance to spend time with Joe. If so, you have your own stories. I have heard from hundreds of people: friends, students, parents of students, co-workers and family. All have their own stories and memories and they usually involve Joe doing something really good and having a positive influence on them. His influence on my grows stronger everyday. He may be gone but he still is changing my life. I wish with all my heart that he was here and our lives were changing and growing together but that wish will not come true. All the tears that I continue to shed don't change anything except exhaust me. I have learned one lesson from today though. Don't pass up the opportunity to see the counselor regardless of how I may feel at the time. Just because I feel pretty good on the day of a session, doesn't mean I will feel the same the next week, or even the next day. If the opportunity is there, take advantage of it.

So what lies ahead this week. Of course 3 more days of work and then on Saturday I will venture to Greenville for Brittany's 14th birthday dinner. I plan to go early so I can visit with Joe's mother and have lunch with her. That way we will get to spend most of the day together before going out to dinner for her birthday dinner. His mother is of course still having trouble dealing with Joe's death as is to be expected. We talk regularly and the phone calls seem to help us both. If I can help her and she can help me, then it is a win win situation. Besides, Joe would be so happy to see us getting along so well.

Ok, i've typed all that is coming to my head. I'm tired and should probably turn in. Maybe sleep will come soon. If not, then there will probably be a p.s. attached!

I continue to be very grateful to everyone who continues to reach out to me offering prayers and support. I would like to once again thank everyone at PGUMC. If people think I'm a mess now, I can only imagine what I would be like if I didn't have so many people at church helping me. Another thing for me to be thankful to Joe for: introducing me to PGUMC.

(it's late and I have not proofed this so please forgive the bad grammar or misspellings)

What Could Be Better?

......than spending the evening with and having dinner with the Minnick family?

Spending the evening with and having dinner with the Minnick Family on 

MOLLY'S BIRTHDAY!!!!!

Happy Birthday to a terrific 9 year old!

Hope you have had a wonderful day and thank you for including me in it!

LOVE YOU!

So Now What????

For the most observant you will notice right off that this post is different than the most recent ones. For those not as observant I will help. The post has a title rather than a date.  Since Joe's death I just haven't felt creative enough to name a post and have just gone with the date.  Not that this post's title is creative, but hey, it's better than a date.

So what gives with "So Now What????" ?  Well today I finished all the items on my to-do list having to do with Joe's estate.  Thanks to two incredibly wonderful friends, Bill & Fredda Umphlett, I got the paperwork for Joe's 401K beneficiary account set up at SECU and the forms mailed back to the state government offices.  Fredda came over this morning and went with me to my local SECU branch where I saw the same loan officer I have dealt with the past couple of months with regards to Joe's bank accounts.  It was painless and didn't take long at all mostly due to Bill & Fredda's efforts prior to me even going to the bank.  After leaving the bank, we went to the post office and got the paperwork in the mail.  From there, the next item on my check list was the DMV.  Getting the titles of the two cars changed from both Joe and my names to just my name was the last detail in settling his estate.  I have stopped by the local DMV office twice in the last month in the late afternoon only to be confronted with lines to the door.  Each time I just turned and went back to the car and went home.  Today, though it was just at the beginning of the lunch hour, when we arrived there were only 2 people up at the counter being helped and no one in line.  Within 5 minutes, I was up at the counter and started with the paperwork.  Although it seemed to be an over abundance of forms to fill out, after getting it done, we were back in the car and it was just 12:35pm.  So what seemed like a long time really hadn't been.

There was just enough time for me to go home and grab a quick bite for lunch before going to the Duke Cancer Center for my 2pm counseling session.  I actually got there early and decided to go up to the 4th floor infusion center to see if Jason was working.  Jason is Joe's former middle school student who is a nurse there that I have written about before.  Before getting on the elevator I ran into Mark Bradford (former oncology team nurse who now works in the lab - I've written about him before also). After speaking with Mark I went on up to the 4th floor and inquired if Jason was working and he was so they buzzed him back in infusion and told him I was in the lobby.  Within a couple of minutes I saw him coming down the hall.  What is it about seeing the people who took such good care of Joe that just makes me automatically start to cry?  I didn't overdo it this time but did shed a few tears and just thanked Jason for the care he had taken with Joe and asked him to please tell Brenda and the others in infusion that I had been there and to express my sincere gratitude for all they did for Joe the last 2 years. Jason in true form, expressed deep sympathy for my loss and relayed how sorry everyone in infusion had been when they had learned of Joe's death.  So now I've managed to go see our oncology team (Dr. Zafar and Leigh Howard) and go up to the infusion center.  That just leaves the 9300 unit at the hospital.  Not quite ready for that one yet but I will get there one day.

Following my visit to infusion I went on to my 2pm counseling session with Jennifer and after leaving the DCC at 3pm, headed over to the Durham County Courthouse.  Of course, they are in the new courthouse now so it was a new experience.  Were Joe alive he would have considered it an adventure getting to go to the new building.  I however didn't exactly look at it that way.  It is a beautiful facility but I wasn't thrilled with the reason I had to be there.  It didn't take me long to find the Estates office and I was able to see the same person, Johnnie, that I saw on my previous visits to the Estates office at the old courthouse.  She had me in her office within 5 minutes of my arrival, looked over my final paperwork and then sent me to the cashier's office to pay the fee for finalizing the estate.  After getting that done, I returned to her office and she finalized the file.  All in all I spent just 20 minutes at the courthouse today.  By tomorrow the file should be recorded and all settled.

So now it's on to the title.  So now what?  That's how I feel.  I discussed it at counseling today about how I would feel when this part was done.  Although it has been a big pain in the behind, it has been a connection to Joe.  With it all settled, that's just one more connection that doesn't exist anymore.  How do I feel about that?  I don't know the answer.  Do I celebrate that it's done?  Do I cry?  Right now that is a bit of a rhetorical question because as I type I am crying.  Why?  I have no idea.  I don't want to hold onto the pain, but the pain does keep me closer to Joe.  I'm glad I don't have to fill out anymore forms (at least not that I know of....something tells me that there's still a surprise or two out there for me).  But the forms, even though tiresome, were because of Joe.  I can't complain about that.  I just don't know how to feel about this aspect being over.  Maybe only time will tell.  Big sigh right now.........

Last Friday was the Youth Dinner Theater at PGUMC.  A wonderful evening.  I laughed so hard at times and it felt so good.  However, I also cried.  Those wonderful youth and their leaders dedicated the evening to Joe and even donated part of the proceeds to the church music fund in Joe's honor.  At the end of the night they played a video of the youth in memory of Joe.  That's when my tears flowed that night but I wasn't the only one.  Even through the tears, I had a great time and am very grateful to everyone involved with the dinner theater.  You did a great job.

Today has been an exhausting day.  Even though everything went very smoothly and at no time did I have to wait in lines, I am really tired.  I think it's mental & emotional.  I've been in a "funk" ever since I got home from the courthouse.  Even eating my pork rinds didn't help.  At this point I think my best solution is just to go to bed.  I'll think about it tomorrow.  After all, tomorrow is another day (yes, a quote from one of Joe's "All Time Favorite" movies).

Thank you to everyone who continues to include me in their prayers and continue to lend a supportive ear or shoulder.  I am blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life and helping me out.