Hard Words

It's been a while since I've felt comfortable enough, or had the precise words to explain what is going on in my life past the physical details. [Foot not fully broken/fractured, still fraked up for a few weeks.]

Births, marriages, engagements, deaths- too many, pregnancies, jobs, new locations.
This is the excitement and progress of my friends and family.

I am happy for them. I have far more hope for any of them than I hold for myself.

Roger Ebert in one of the short notes he sent to me said that it was alright to write about the horrid parts of life. The nasty parts of cancer not shown in those films with a happy ending. It is ok to share the utter desperation, the desires, the lowering of one's self on the chance for mercy from a world that holds no "fairness".
"Truth is not always a happy ending." R.E.

How very true.


This post might hurt. It hurts to write, and I'm sure for some it will hurt to read. Cancer and dying hurts too. Living and knowing the one person you loved, who loved you back, is gone and will never ever come back- hurts.

"Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." - W. Goldman [The Princess Bride]

When we got married slightly to this theme, that quote meant something so different to me. Wash inscribed my wedding band with "As You Wish" on it.
It's quite amazing how much foreshadowing our relationship has without either of us really picking up on it. I had him nicknamed "Wash" within weeks of us dating. We both knew what happened to Hoban in "Serenity".


I am not "stuck". I am however, mad lately. I'm mad that people around me who have not felt this pain feel it is appropriate to tell me how to deal with my pain. I'm mad that they think there is some magic number of weeks, months, or time that can pass before I should be where they want.
I'm mad that people want the Tashi "back" that does not exist anymore.
She's gone just as surely as her Wash. Never coming back.
I think that acceptance is slowly happening.

I'm mad at myself for hurting at someone else's happiness. I am utterly confused at how it is possible for me to feel so happy to see friends get married, or have a child, or get hired at their dream career, or become pregnant- and so mad at my own life for being deprived of that.
I had 4-6 weeks of marriage before the cancer began to grow in his brain.
Twice we almost stayed pregnant. Twice we both held onto Hope that in some way (biologically at the very least) Wash could continue on. Twice it ended in blood, pain, and tears.
Leto the cat is now the only living part of Wash I still have, or can hold.

I find less and less to talk about, socially. I have little I can relate to with my peers.
The Widow's support group is also made up of people in pain like me, but all so much older. All who had time or a chance at a life with the one they loved. They had children, reasons to wake in the morning and function. They had homes they built up together that they could get comfort from. Years, sometimes decades of memories to hold on to. To recall. To soothe.

I am mad at the people who suggest that because I was "only" married for a short time that I can/could/should "move on" now. That 6 months is enough time to "heal".
I am mad at those who imply I will have or find love again. I had it once. I found him once. I gave my heart and soul once. Who are they to know my intentions? Who besides my own self should say if I even desire to love again?

I am at the age where so many of my peers are married, engaged, pregnant, or having children. Over and over I see milestones I wanted to have myself, and cannot.
I will never have a new birthday card from my husband again. I'll never hear him sing to me that I'm his "Queen of Argyle".

I have pain. I have sorrow. I have tears. I have little Hope to share.
I have a large space to carry pain, to support others. Some days I wake as Atlas, carrying the weight of the world upon myself, and not questioning why I do this. Why I carry this burden.

I am hurt that Cancer keeps stealing people we love. I am tired of this. I am 26 and so tired.
I carry Hope, but it is not a weightless burden.

Hope is painful. Hope does not protect the heart. Or the brain. Hope is irrational, one of the confusing parts of being human I am still trying to comprehend.

When I began this written record I chose "Learning to Hope" in the sense of Hope for my Wash. For his future, for his fight, for us. Now, I think the Hope is for me. How to keep wanting to Hope, when I know so well how much it can hurt. How the nights are spent either awake, afraid of the silence and dark, or sleeping restlessly in a dream of chasing someone I can never catch.
Hope that someday life will become desirable, not just passive, waiting for the moment I breathe out but not in.
How do I continue on, when I still hear him in my head? When I can still read his stories and words? See the world from his eye in his photographs.

He is gone but save a digital footprint of his existence.

And, yet.
Yet...

He is the Gaius to my Six.
Whispering in my ears. Touching my hair. Standing in his kilt. Kissing my neck. He lives in me, in my brain, in the memories he shared and gave to me to hold. I cannot begin to imagine how one can "get over" that.


This is my pain. My grief. My anger. My sadness. My soulmate. My timeline.
My life and future to mourn.


Yes, I still hurt. I can smile, but I ache.
I feel a need to hide away from the happy world. From the lives others are living. I am not living. I exist right now.


Is this the trade-off? Is this the start of my re-payment? A karmic debt I owe?
Is this the price of love? Of the short, but fully complete happiness I once had?

I think I am still too young to say that for certainty. I think I am not omnipotent enough to say that for certainty.

If this pain is the start of the price I now pay, I owe.
I owe this pain, and I own it.

I gave my self and my heart up to him. I willingly gave it. I gave him everything I could.
From 2008-2012 I had his love in return. I had him. I had unconditional love for all of me. I had more than a friend. I had more than a lover. I truly knew Hope, in a painless sense, then.
I had his love.

If this pain is my price, it is mine.
I would do it all over again, in a hummingbird's heartbeat. Knowing the pain, the tears, the sadness, the blood, the loss. I would do it again.
He was worth it. 4 years, or 40 seconds. His love was worth it.
It does not ease the pain, does not put a balm on my wounds, but it is the truth.
I would put myself through every bit of this pain again, for him.


I can wish my story had a happy ending. I can wish it was a different type of cancer, a different disease, a life of health. I can write that we struggled, but overcame and lived happy forever until we both died on the same day, decades after our marriage. I can write we had children, and grandchildren. I can write we both had perfect dream lives.
But I write truth here, not fiction.

There is no "happy ending" in my life. My love story is a tragedy, not a happily ended romance.



Photo is from approx 2004-06 from Wash's Speech Black Book. [Speech and Debators will know this.]
This is his opening selection from "Will the Circle be Unbroken" by Studs Terkel that he used in an Oratory or Dramatic piece.

The good, bad, and great

This will be a short update as it is late, has been a LONG day and I just can't type that much, my wrist has been hurt a bit. More details and photos to come for everything.

The good; Wash's parents and brother came in for Christmas and it was a really pleasant trip. He only had one night of sleepwalking since they have been here and has managed to stay on top of his naps and meds, despite the distractions. He got to spend some good time alone with them, and we all spent some nice time as an extended family doing Christmas and Hanukkah stuff. We did some small gift exchanges and spent time catching up and even getting my backyard and garden sorted out. It was an encouraging trip and I know Wash really enjoyed the time. I know he has been missing his parents and also been really wanting to see his brother, so it was so good for everyone.

The bad; I made a mistake past Friday and went driving without proper ID. We were stopped and I was handcuffed and detained by the police for about an hour. I was only cited for one thing but they towed my car since I did not have proper documents to drive. So my car is in impound. I'll go into details later; I was sober, it was 3 blocks from home, no one was hurt, I was not arrested. I made the mistake to drive the few streets without my purse that night, though I do have very strong negative feelings about being handcuffed as I was not posing any threat or hiding my identification at all, I just did not have the "proper/acceptable" form. I'm going to court tomorrow and with luck will have my car back. This will cost me.

Speaking of cost, also part of the bad got the/Wash's MediCare statement for Sept-Nov. We owe about $550 in costs for doctor visits for him. That's the uninsured part. It's still shocking to me that these are the costs when he is not even on active chemo. These are his mostly "healthy" costs. I've been talking with my mum, I think when he goes on full time Hospice help I'll have no other choice but bankruptcy. Adult pants.

The great; So my In-Laws helped to spend a couple hours in the backyard cleaning and clearing away the crap and making it tidy again. They helped to transport some new plants I bought with my birthday money (Home Depot gift cards, my friends know me) and then I spent more than 3 hours working and planting and transplanting and moving the garden around. There are a bunch of flowers now- I even spotted a hummingbird today! I put in a few more vegetables and seeds, and bulbs, as well as bought a large mature tomato to replace my 3 year old one (destroyed). I also invested again in jasmine and gardenia bushes. The small porch has been cleared and soon we will have our little chairs out to sit and enjoy. I also put in the solar lights I got for my birthday from my mum around, and it looks amazing at night. I cannot wait until the spring.

The other good part, to which I also have photos is that we got some WONDERFUL holiday cheer from www.thinkgeek.com today. Apparently some of the "worker monkeys" read my blog here and know how HUGE geeks Wash and I are (as if his name did not give it away). (Hi friends! You guys rock!) and wanted to do something for us- they did "something" alright.

We got so many wonderful geeky things! New shirts! Chromosome towels! Adipose toys! Mad Scientist building blocks! Toys for my nephew! (he is going to LOVE his food-heavy machines and the jet plane bib, his dad is a pilot) We're going to give the Neuron Plushie to Wash's neurologist when we see her in about 2 weeks. (I bet she will laugh, she has such a sense of humor) I am keeping the Ebola plushie, I frakking admire filovirii, plus it's cute. They also gave us the Blue Sun 'travel' poster SET, which I cannot gorram wait to frame and put up. Nathan Fillion's giant head in our Serenity poster should be jealous. They also sent a treat for the furry legged ones in this house; a 'Cats Attack! Cityscape scratching post. I will have to get a video of Leto attacking it.

We love www.thinkgeek.com and have for years. I've been treating myself and my (step)dad to their toys for years. It's a great company and now I am even more so convinced. Geeks are a special breed and I truly love and admire how they (we) come together as a community. Our season would have been a lot less jolly without their intervention. I cannot even fully articulate yet just how thankful I am to them for this - the gifts and the moments it gave us. These are two happy and so thankful Browncoats.

So, more details and photos to come, but there's the last few days for us. I hope all my Dear Readers have had a safe holiday season, regardless of family, distance, or geekery.