I miss him...

So, the service was a week ago...he's been gone just over 3 weeks....I miss him. I miss the sounds in the house of another person being here. Little things like a door opening and closing, dishes being placed on a counter or in the sink. The wrapper of a candy crinkling. His cough. His laugh. His voice. I just miss him. It's amazing how much we don't realize one person impacts our life until they are no longer there. And the dogs miss him...Buster is more clingy to me than ever. And Saydee is venting her frustrations out on Buster. I've had to do the dreaded phone calling, faxing and letter writing to let companies such as the banks, credit cards, cell provider, etc. know he is gone. It's tough. The weirdest part of it all is being away from the house and not having the feeling of needing to get home...whether it be to make lunch for him, get him to an appointment or just to be with him. I find myself liking to be away from home more and more. And I know it's a coping mechanism...but I also love to be home where I can sometimes feel his spirit around, like he's watching over me. It seems like I notice more and more butterflies and hummingbirds in the yard lately. Yet another reminder that he is around. Or when I turn on the tv and his favorite movie or show is on...or the radio plays a song that reminds me of him. There are days I think I cannot go on without him but I remind myself how lucky we were to have what we had and it gives me strength to move on and live life. Because that's what he wanted for me. And in these times of sadness, loneliness and darkness, I have learned who my friends are...who has love in their hearts for me. My very best friend, who put his heart and soul into expressing words that made Mark's tribute a wonderful and beautiful thing. My dear mom, who stayed up so many nights to make sure I was okay. My gals, who came by with food and made sure I was eating and taking care of myself...and made sure I laughed and knew I was loved and will never be alone. My special male honorary "girlfriend", who brought over food, took care of my yard and fed the masses even when he couldn't join in. The mother and son team, who helped me plan Mark's tribute and prepared gorgeous flowers to bring sunshine and cheer to his special day. My cousin, who lovingly polished and cleaned Mark's bike to make it look its best at the service. My uncle, who was a most gracious host for the family dinner. Wonderful food and entertainment. The neighbors who have stopped by to ask if I need anything and have brought food, flowers and companionship as if we were family. I don't know how I could have gotten through these days/weeks without them all, not forgetting to note the many other friends who have come by to visit, brought flowers, food, booze and sent cards, letters and just in general have made me feel loved. I don't feel alone, nor will I ever with people like that in my life. And although a huge part of my life is gone, there is no void in my life because I have so much that remains. I love you all. I miss him, but you've all made it easier.

Goodbye.

It has been just over a week since the love of my love passed away. And soon it will be time to say goodbye, ceremonially. A few weeks before Mark came home to be on hospice care, we did a lot of heart to heart conversing and I feel that we said our goodbyes then. He told me he had no regrets about the life we had together. Even the bad times. He gave me instructions on how to disperse some of his belongings. He even gave me his blessings to move on with my life and find love again when I am ready. What a blessing that was, a truly unselfish act that proved to me his unconditional love. We spent time talking about the wonderful trips we had taken, Vegas, San Diego, Santa Cruz, North Carolina, Connecticut and little day trips in and around LA.. We talked about the difficult times...being laid off from work, going on disability, not being able to have kids and struggling financially. And of course we talked about what we were currently going through...the battle of his life...Cancer. Such an ugly word. We talked about his wishes to not be in the hospital any longer, hooked up to machines, having blood drawn every hour. We talked about facing death...he told me he had no fear. With a lifetime of health issues, he had learned to face death without fear. Such a brave, warrior. And we talked about the afterlife. I made him promise to one day send me a sign...something only I would recognize, so I knew he was okay. I'm still waiting, but I know it'll come. On the night before he passed, he woke me up to tell me he was having trouble breathing...we were using a baby monitor so he could call out to me. When I came to his bedside, he was struggling for breath. He said he wasn't in pain, wasn't scared and that he loved me. I told him this was the moment we had to decide what the next move was...If I called 911, they would hook him up to machines, take him to the hospital and he would be there probably until his time came. If I called our hospice nurse, we would keep him at home as comfortable as possible until his time came. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I don't want to go. No more. I want to be here." So there it was. A simple answer and request. And that is what I did. My last action of love and respect. I rubbed his chest, held his hand and told him I loved him. I told him not to be scared and that I would be fine. I reminded him of everyone who loved him and that it was okay for him to go when he was ready. He slowly drifted off to sleep, semi coherent. By the time our nurse showed up, he was breathing heavily with a rapid heart beat. He was in and out of being coherent. Within an hour, he was no longer coherent. The nurse said it could be a matter of hours or days, depending how long he decided to fight. I stayed up with him all night...talking to him, even though he didn't respond back. I kept telling him I loved him and that everything was going to be okay. And at 9:40 the next morning, as I stood by his side, rubbing his chest and holding his hand, he took his last breaths and I watched his heart beat for the last time. He gave me the gift of letting me take care of him right til the end. I am grateful for the peace he had in his eyes and on his face. Our last goodbye was serene and filled with love and peace. If ever there was a perfect way to go, surrounded by friends, loved ones and having had numerous visitors the days and weeks prior, this was it. Mark knew he was loved and was able to tell the ones he cared for that he loved them. He was even able to pet our devoted dogs and cat that last day he was with us. And because I feel so much peace in my heart, I am able to tell people I am fine when they ask how I am doing. I am happy for Mark to be out of pain and at peace. I am happy we had the last few months to speak so openly to one another and tell one another what our hearts felt. And I am happy because I know that we will see each other again some day, which makes saying goodbye a little easier.

How lucky am I?

I recently came across a quote from a silly old bear..."How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." -- Winnie The Pooh. This simple grouping of words have taken on a wonderful, special meaning as a new chapter in my life has begun. My wonderful husband's 3 1/2 + year battle with cancer is coming to an end. We have come face to face with the reality that all battles are not won and life does in fact come to an end sooner than we sometimes expect or want. Love has been a strength in our marriage, along with laughter, respect and devotion. I have been blessed with almost 14 years of marriage to my best friend. He makes me laugh every day, even when we argue. I have felt loved and adored every day since our first date. The biggest compliment I've had in my life is that I am a wonderful wife. I take pride in the house I've made our home. Together, we have been through so much and our adventure continues into this unknown realm of the end of life. I have done much crying and soul searching these last few weeks. I have watched my husband, my love, my hero slowly give in to accept what life is offering him. He inspires me. Such courage and quiet strength. And as we have had our private conversations about our feelings, wishes and plans, it has brought peace to my heart and soul to know we are blessed to have this opportunity to say everything we need to say. And it has been difficult to say goodbye. Why wouldn't it be? But I have faith that someday we will be together again...in a beautiful place where there is no sadness, pain or disease. Where we are with all of our loved ones, surrounded by beauty and peace. This wonderful faith pulls me through the tough moments and gets me through the long nights of being alone in this home of ours. And rather than dwell on the things we haven't done, like trips we wanted to take, having children or remodeling the house...I focus on the wonderful things we have done, like road trips up the coast, running our own business, rescuing two loving dogs, and most importantly, building a marriage of trust, respect, endurance and most of all love. Every time we say I love you, I say it with all my heart as if it were the last time. Everyone should feel this level of passion and devotion, because we don't know when it may be the last time. And now it is my turn to have strength and courage to be the advocate, nurse, chef, chauffeur, chaplain and most importantly, friend and wife. It is my promise to provide comfort, love and peace as best I am able for all the time we have left together. I love you, Mark.

Repost, because I feel like it...To Sir, with love...

When I was a little girl, I used to dream about who I would grow up to become and who I would marry. I am a lucky girl to have married someone who loves me for who I am....he has never once complained about my struggles with weight. I get a "thank you" every night I fix dinner...even on the nights I serve a sandwich or take out. He knows when I'm quiet I'm usually angry at someone or something. He makes me laugh every single day of my life, even if it's because I'm teasing him. He knows not to bother me when I'm in the bath soaking away my worries of the day. And most importantly, he knows when I call him "Sir", it's to get his attention. Together, Mark and I have faced so many things...both good and bad. What started as a passionate first date turned into a loving marriage of friendship, respect and dedication. I am the first to admit that I have many faults...temperamental, selfish at times, childish, a worry wart, overbearing, a nag, a bitch if you will. BUT he puts up with it all. We have been going through this battle with cancer for 3 1/2 years. It has been tough. I've cried a lot. We both have. There have been too many trips to doctor appointments, invasive procedures and numerous ER visits. Some of the nurses and doctors recognize us when we walk into the ER at Kaiser Sunset. There are many heroes out in the world...soldiers, firemen, policemen, single moms, teachers...but Mark is my hero. He is brave, refusing to give up this battle. He admitted to me he is too stubborn to give up...he's not ready. I hear from friends and family how strong I am for handling everything I've been dealt in life, but he is even stronger for facing so many health obstacles in his lifetime. Together, we have made this house we live in a home. Since my grandmother died, we have put our own personal touches on things and I feel the warmth and love every time I walk in through the doors. So, Mark, as I sit at home alone, with you in the hospital again...I want you to know I'm always thinking positive thoughts filled with love and peace. I don't think I tell you enough how much I admire your strength and courage. I love you. Don't be upset I wrote this ;)

"If you wanted the sky
I would write across the sky in letters
That would soar a thousand feet high
To Sir, with love/" --

Time passes on

Time has passed on...it has been too long since I have had a chance to sit down and collect my thoughts. With the holidays, hospital stays, two active puppies and a neglected garden/house, there have been too many other things demanding to come first. Right now, I'm focusing on me for a change. It didn't seem like Christmas without my auntie Hiroko and grandma Grace. It was always so much fun shopping for Hiroko...and everyone always looked forward to grandma's baking (even though she wasn't able to do it as well as she did years before). My mom's house was decorated as Winter Wonderland beautiful as always, but the house just seemed so empty and cold. Even my 2012 birthday was a downer...no celebrations that day since Mark was in the hospital. I actually spent the night with the doggies eating take out food. They seem to be my two dependable loves these days...driving me crazy with their destructive behavior, but always there to make me laugh and smile. I did manage to make some holiday money selling crocheted scarves and handmade paper ornaments...mom and I did a few craft boutiques, which were fun for mother/daughter bonding. The extra money was nice too ;) And crafting always takes my mind off the ugly stuff in life. I don't seem to get around to doing much crafting these days, but I'm vowing to try to make time. As I have also vowed to take better care of my health, my garden and myself in general. I've devoted a specific portion of the yard to roses this year. My favorite variegated lavender/purple survived the neglect in the heat and cold, so I will be sure to take special care of it. I have already been blessed with many blooms already...I've added a few new colors this year and cannot wait to take pictures in the spring. I've downsized the vegetable yard since the dogs are in need of their own space. My plans are for tomatoes, bell peppers, green beans and zucchini. I will also be planing some strawberry baskets, salad greens and herbs and might try blueberries again. I started a food log, in attempts to drop some weight in 2013. Mom and I are continuing to hit the gym...we try for 3 times a week. And I've decided to try to let my hair color grow back to it's true color...even the grays! We'll see how long that lasts...it's been 2 months so far. Things to look forward to are warmer weather for gardening, friends/family from out of town/state visiting soon and puppies that mature some more...mentally and emotionally. Buster has been quite the cry baby for momma lately...it's getting old :(

A Small Victory

Today we had a small victory...we won our appeal in court for Mark's SSI/disability benefits. We have been fighting for these benefits for the last two years, since his short term state disability ended after he stopped working. It boggles the mind how the "system" works for or against certain people and why it takes so long for someone who needs/deserves benefits to get them. I know firsthand how difficult it is to go through the maze of paperwork...forms, doctor reports, work status updates, etc. having gone through disability when I had carpal tunnel syndrome several years ago. For Mark, we did everything we were supposed to do. We got doctor reports, filled out forms, went to the Social Security office for an interview. And for some reason, they denied the claim, stating that he was in workable condition....how in the hell do they expect someone who is going through chemotherapy, requiring 30+ restroom visits a day, on multiple pain management medications, etc. to work a "normal" 8 hour day, be able to concentrate on that work AND be able to drive to and from work. Pain meds cause side effects...some of them major, like drowsiness, hallucinations, foggy head. Not to mention the chemo side effects of nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, lightheadedness, body aches, dizziness, neuropathy, fatigue...the list goes on. Yet the person who reviewed his case denied it? Then sent it off for a secondary review and denied it again?? I know people who are on disability...some need to be but some do not. How can someone justify they cannot work because of pain but can go on shopping sprees and stand all night at a night club or concert? What about someone who claims to have mental anguish from being fired but can sit all day at a casino and play Black Jack? But someone who has been fighting cancer for 3 years, is in constant pain, has weight loss because he has no appetite, who has been in ER twice in a month span because of dehydration from night sweats and diarrhea is expected to work? We contacted the Cancer Legal Resource Center of Los Angeles. It is a wonderful organization that provides free advice and guidance for cancer patients to work their way through the confusing system. We were given a referral for an attorney who specializes in disability cases. We were blessed to find an attorney who genuinely feels compassion for their clients and encouraged us to appeal. Our first court date was scheduled back in July...July 3rd to be exact. We were scheduled to appear at 11 am in West Los Angeles, a nice 1 1/2 hour drive in morning traffic. We received a phone call that morning at 8 am to tell us our case was being rescheduled because an official was not going to be in the office that day...in other words, someone decided they wanted an extended 4th of July weekend. So, we rescheduled and here we are today. We were fortunate the "medical expert" they had phone in from Oregon understood Mark's condition and the severity of side effects. Not only the cancer but the heart condition as well. Should be a no brainer, right? It should not have taken us this long...and we still have to wait a month before we see any benefits. The good news is, the battle is over. The great news is they will retro-pay the time lost since we applied. With all the ugliness in the world, I finally got a glimpse of the system working. One that does good for people who need and deserve benefits. I feel like today shined a little glimmer of hope that the "system" works and will continue to work so our futures don't have to seem so hopeless.

A death is a death....or is it?

My grandmother passed away on August 7th. It was an expected event, after spending weeks in a rehabilitation hospital fighting infection...We had a double burial at Rose Hills Memorial Park, she and my grandfather (who passed July 30, 2010 and who's cremains stayed with us at home) were buried together, along side their son (my dad who passed October 6, 1990) and my grandfather's sister (who passed June 13, 2006). It was a bittersweet moment in my life...I've devoted the last 6 years to caring for my grandparents and grandaunt. And the last two years have been a battle with grandma, who had difficulty asking for or admitting she needed help and never showed her appreciation for me. While I'm glad she is no longer suffering, I am also relieved to be able to reclaim my life as my own and do what I need to do for myself and my husband, who is battling cancer.  When I lost my auntie back in June of this year, it hit me like a truck. It was unexpected, out of the blue. I could not stop myself from crying and feeling an emptiness in my heart that I had never felt in my life. I'll admit, I sometimes listen to voice mails she left me months ago...just to hear her sweet voice again. I was blessed to have a big support group of close friends and family...even my virtual family of Facebook friends. I received more flowers and hugs than I could ever ask for. Cards came in the mail just about every day. Phone calls, texts and emails were sent...I felt surrounded by love and comfort. We had over 400 people attend a beautiful ceremony with video tributes, flowers galore and a white dove release at the end.  But with my grandmother, it was a different story. She was 98...most of her family is already gone, sad to say. She had told us she wanted simplicity when it came to her service, so we requested no flowers. It was short and simple, just as requested. But I wasn't prepared for the difference in how the death itself was treated. Very few cards came. Relatives sent beautiful planters to the house and a dear friend brought a lovely plant in person. Another friend sent a monetary offering...keeping an endearing Japanese tradition alive, which I adore her for doing so. A loving cousin text and emailed several times the days leading to and after the service...she is still doing so, which is why I love her too! But the circle of love and support I've come to depend on in my time of need didn't seem to develop on as grand a scale this time around. And no, I'm not fishing for sympathy. I'm not angry that we didn't have a large turn out for the service. I'm simply trying to understand and educate people, my readers, on the topic of death. In working in the funeral business in the past, I've now been on both sides of the coin. And I've learned more as a mourner than I did as a funeral director. Every death is significant. It doesn't matter if it is stillborn child, a convicted murderer or a victim of an accident. Each person who dies leaves someone behind. Someone misses that person, the daily interaction...even the bad times they had with them. The tradition of sending stamps with a thank you card to people who have sent monetary or floral gifts is a Japanese American custom. It is a token gift as a sign of appreciation from the family and a way of saying, "Please continue to stay in touch by use of these stamps." It's beautiful and touching, a way to reach out to others not to forget those who are left behind after a death. A friend in the medical field once told me that cancer survivors usually go through a depression after they complete therapy. They become used to seeing doctors, nurses and others as a weekly routine. Suddenly, once they are cured, they've lost that circle of support. They are no longer asked on a regular basis, "How are you? What can I do for you?" That amount of personal attention is suddenly gone. It's the same way when someone passes away. Funerals are about the survivors, not the deceased. Once the casket is in the ground, the flowers have wilted and the thank you cards have been sent, it's not over. I guess what I'm saying is, please continue to show support and love to a family. Be there for them, in whatever capacity you can and that they need. Because a death of any sort is still a death.