PuristLove
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Dec 11, 2000
- Messages
- 1,694
Eight Passages in a Journal
By
Eric West
July 22, 2000
Old Farthead did it. He went and bought that goddamn car. He spent every single penny of his retirement. He could have bought a new car, but no he had to have the latest, newest, fastest.
I know he's wanted to own one his whole life. Its sort of been his dream, but he spent all of it. Every penny we had put up so him and me could go off to Jekyll Island and get old on the beach.
Of course I smiled when he told me he was gonna buy it, and I smiled when he insisted on taking me for a ride in it. Its been nice to see him so alive, so happy. What hurts is that he has given up. He's not fighting the disease anymore and both of us know it.
I've been crying ever since we got home, but I cant let him see me. I'm gonna go try to get him to take his medicine now and maybe get him to eat something if I can.
Write more in you later.
July 30, 2000
He asked me today why I had stayed with him when he cheated on me. I told him, "I love you. It hurt, hell it hurt but I loved you too much to just hand you over to that other woman. I knew you loved me too. The shame in your eyes told me you wouldnt do it again. That you couldn't hurt me like this again." "Besides," I told him, "Who else would let me call them Farthead?"
I'm glad now that I did it. Stayed with him. Its been a good life the two of us have had. We've both had to work, and sometimes I wished Bill had been a little more ambitious. But he's loved me good this whole time. Treated me like a lady even when I pissed him off. Put up with all my shit. And I sure gave him a lot of shit. But I think I've loved him good too.
August 12, 2000
Bill couldn't keep his medicine down today. He threw it up, so I gave it to him a second time. When he threw that up too I called the doctor. The doctor told me there was nothing he could do, but that for some people, smoking a little marijuana might help.
Me and Farthead have never been one's to use drugs. We weren't even big drinkers, just a beer every once in a while. But anything to ease his pain. I'm gonna call one of the girl's today and see if they know anywhere to get some. Heavens knows they both partied enough.
August 22, 2000
The pot seems to be doing the trick. He keeps the medicine down, and he is even eating again. I'm not sure if it eases his pain much, but he says it does. I wish someone could tell me what that poor man has done to deserve to suffer so much? Or what I've done? Its just not fair. Its not.
September 7, 2000
Farthead is the sweetest man alive. I came home today and the first thing I noticed was that the Corvette wasn't in the driveway. I came in the door and the entire house was full of flower's. Just a floral heaven.
He said that he spent the money on a surprise for me. I bugged him to tell me what it was but he wouldn't. He said I'd find out later. Had a sad look in his eye then, so I kissed him and held him.
Oh I forgot, he wrote me a poem too. Found it laid out on the couch. Don't know how that man found the energy to do all this, but I sure love him.
His poem said he would be with me forever. I don't know what I believe anymore but I sure hope he is. I love him so much.
October 3, 2000
Haven't written much lately. Bill has gotten a lot sicker.We've been to the hospital three times in the past two weeks. I'm not sure he is gonna make it to Christmas. The doctor's wont tell me anything. They've given me morphine to try to help him with the pain.
October 28, 2000
He left me. That old bastard farthead just died on me. He just gave up. He left me here all alone, to try to deal with this pain. I can't. I hate him. How could he just die on me? I hate God, how could God take away the only thing in my entire life that mattered.
How could he.......
Oh I love him so much. I miss him so badly all ready. I need him here. I can't handle this. I just wish ... I just dont understand why this had to happen. I know he fought for as long as he could, but why did he have to go now?
I think I've cried every drop of water in my body. I'm still crying now, but not tears anymore. Bill wasn't even old. He was only 55. Thats not old. Old is 100. Me and Farthead were supposed to live to be 103 and die together on the beach staring out at the ocean.
I wish I could find comfort in God, but it seems like God has just abandoned me these past few years. Or maybe I've abandoned Him. I'm not sure. I think I am gonna go pray a while.
October 30, 2000
The service was really beautiful. The girls both came of course, and they were a lot of comfort to me. I couldnt really handle the arrangements or all the people. They took care of everything.
We didn't even try to call Teddy. He hated his Dad so much. He didn't even care when I called him and told him that Bill was sick.
I know Bill and him never got along, but I don't think I can understand why he hated him so much. This man I've loved my whole life.
The preacher was real good. I was crying because Farthead looked so fake, like a plastic doll, laying there and I knew it wasnt him.
Thats when the preacher got to this part in the sermon where he talked about the soul being eternal. Well about this time I felt this warm feeling all over, especially on my shoulders. It felt just like when Bill used to sneak up behind me and put his arms around me. Somehow I just knew he was there.
Then later, at the burial, all the kids from Bill's Sunday School class came and they threw yellow roses in on top of the vault. One of them came up to me later, crying, asking who was gonna teach their Sunday School Class now?
I asked him who had been teaching it since he got sick and he said nobody, they just go in there and play while the growups have Church Service.
Well, I got to thinking. At this point I had decided I was gonna kill myself, and join Bill, wherever he was. But this little kid made me see that there was still so much to do here.
I found out what Bill's surprise to me was. He had bought me a little cottage on the beach with the money from his car. It wasn't Jekyll Island, some small town in Alabama. But the pictures I saw were pretty enough.
I'm gonna go down there when I feel a little more comfortable being alone. I want to spend one night there with Bill's memories and his spirit, because I feel that still too.
Then I am gonna donate that to the Church. Maybe they can take kids there in the summer or something.
Well I am gonna go cry some more and then get in bed. Write more later.
------------------
Intelligence is not best measured by the answers you have but by the questions that you ask
By
Eric West
July 22, 2000
Old Farthead did it. He went and bought that goddamn car. He spent every single penny of his retirement. He could have bought a new car, but no he had to have the latest, newest, fastest.
I know he's wanted to own one his whole life. Its sort of been his dream, but he spent all of it. Every penny we had put up so him and me could go off to Jekyll Island and get old on the beach.
Of course I smiled when he told me he was gonna buy it, and I smiled when he insisted on taking me for a ride in it. Its been nice to see him so alive, so happy. What hurts is that he has given up. He's not fighting the disease anymore and both of us know it.
I've been crying ever since we got home, but I cant let him see me. I'm gonna go try to get him to take his medicine now and maybe get him to eat something if I can.
Write more in you later.
July 30, 2000
He asked me today why I had stayed with him when he cheated on me. I told him, "I love you. It hurt, hell it hurt but I loved you too much to just hand you over to that other woman. I knew you loved me too. The shame in your eyes told me you wouldnt do it again. That you couldn't hurt me like this again." "Besides," I told him, "Who else would let me call them Farthead?"
I'm glad now that I did it. Stayed with him. Its been a good life the two of us have had. We've both had to work, and sometimes I wished Bill had been a little more ambitious. But he's loved me good this whole time. Treated me like a lady even when I pissed him off. Put up with all my shit. And I sure gave him a lot of shit. But I think I've loved him good too.
August 12, 2000
Bill couldn't keep his medicine down today. He threw it up, so I gave it to him a second time. When he threw that up too I called the doctor. The doctor told me there was nothing he could do, but that for some people, smoking a little marijuana might help.
Me and Farthead have never been one's to use drugs. We weren't even big drinkers, just a beer every once in a while. But anything to ease his pain. I'm gonna call one of the girl's today and see if they know anywhere to get some. Heavens knows they both partied enough.
August 22, 2000
The pot seems to be doing the trick. He keeps the medicine down, and he is even eating again. I'm not sure if it eases his pain much, but he says it does. I wish someone could tell me what that poor man has done to deserve to suffer so much? Or what I've done? Its just not fair. Its not.
September 7, 2000
Farthead is the sweetest man alive. I came home today and the first thing I noticed was that the Corvette wasn't in the driveway. I came in the door and the entire house was full of flower's. Just a floral heaven.
He said that he spent the money on a surprise for me. I bugged him to tell me what it was but he wouldn't. He said I'd find out later. Had a sad look in his eye then, so I kissed him and held him.
Oh I forgot, he wrote me a poem too. Found it laid out on the couch. Don't know how that man found the energy to do all this, but I sure love him.
His poem said he would be with me forever. I don't know what I believe anymore but I sure hope he is. I love him so much.
October 3, 2000
Haven't written much lately. Bill has gotten a lot sicker.We've been to the hospital three times in the past two weeks. I'm not sure he is gonna make it to Christmas. The doctor's wont tell me anything. They've given me morphine to try to help him with the pain.
October 28, 2000
He left me. That old bastard farthead just died on me. He just gave up. He left me here all alone, to try to deal with this pain. I can't. I hate him. How could he just die on me? I hate God, how could God take away the only thing in my entire life that mattered.
How could he.......
Oh I love him so much. I miss him so badly all ready. I need him here. I can't handle this. I just wish ... I just dont understand why this had to happen. I know he fought for as long as he could, but why did he have to go now?
I think I've cried every drop of water in my body. I'm still crying now, but not tears anymore. Bill wasn't even old. He was only 55. Thats not old. Old is 100. Me and Farthead were supposed to live to be 103 and die together on the beach staring out at the ocean.
I wish I could find comfort in God, but it seems like God has just abandoned me these past few years. Or maybe I've abandoned Him. I'm not sure. I think I am gonna go pray a while.
October 30, 2000
The service was really beautiful. The girls both came of course, and they were a lot of comfort to me. I couldnt really handle the arrangements or all the people. They took care of everything.
We didn't even try to call Teddy. He hated his Dad so much. He didn't even care when I called him and told him that Bill was sick.
I know Bill and him never got along, but I don't think I can understand why he hated him so much. This man I've loved my whole life.
The preacher was real good. I was crying because Farthead looked so fake, like a plastic doll, laying there and I knew it wasnt him.
Thats when the preacher got to this part in the sermon where he talked about the soul being eternal. Well about this time I felt this warm feeling all over, especially on my shoulders. It felt just like when Bill used to sneak up behind me and put his arms around me. Somehow I just knew he was there.
Then later, at the burial, all the kids from Bill's Sunday School class came and they threw yellow roses in on top of the vault. One of them came up to me later, crying, asking who was gonna teach their Sunday School Class now?
I asked him who had been teaching it since he got sick and he said nobody, they just go in there and play while the growups have Church Service.
Well, I got to thinking. At this point I had decided I was gonna kill myself, and join Bill, wherever he was. But this little kid made me see that there was still so much to do here.
I found out what Bill's surprise to me was. He had bought me a little cottage on the beach with the money from his car. It wasn't Jekyll Island, some small town in Alabama. But the pictures I saw were pretty enough.
I'm gonna go down there when I feel a little more comfortable being alone. I want to spend one night there with Bill's memories and his spirit, because I feel that still too.
Then I am gonna donate that to the Church. Maybe they can take kids there in the summer or something.
Well I am gonna go cry some more and then get in bed. Write more later.
------------------
Intelligence is not best measured by the answers you have but by the questions that you ask
