BARBARA ANN CLARK - THE FUNERAL

 Today marks four years since Barbara's funeral.  I have written three previous pieces about Barbara and her life but have neglected to write about her funeral service.  I think it deserves at least a small writing.

In 1981 a gentleman arrived at our house and knocked on the door.  He was from Floral Hills Funeral Home and Cemetery.  He was calling on us to talk about pre-funeral planning.  I figure the reason why we invited him in to talk to us was that we had experience with the funeral home.  Barbara's mother was buried there and my Uncle Melvin was buried there as well.  He explained that the cemetery was opening up a new section of the cemetery with a new way of parsing out the plots.  It sounded strange at the time.  Instead of Barb and me buying two plots, this new system would allow us to purchase just one.  This is the strange sounding part.  The two of us would be buried together in the single plot, one of us over the other.  The result of this new area was that while it would cost more than a single traditional plot it would be far less expensive than buying two separate plots for the two of us.  After talking with him the both of us thought it made sense and so we let him talk further into the idea of pre-funeral planning.  He talked about everything that we could set up in 1981 so that when the time came when one of us passed away everything would be paid for and available.  He left us some brochures as we asked him to let us talk it over and set an appointment for him to return to talk to us in a few days.

We did discuss planning for the future in this area of life.  We were, after all, planning for our future in almost every other area of life.  We were putting money into a 401K retirement account every paycheck.  We had purchased our house from Mr. and Mrs. Allard.  He was a teacher and coach of my sister and he coached me in football and baseball.  She had given me piano lessons for several years.  We had just finished paying the first actual new car that we had bought.  I had purchased life insurance on myself in addition to the life insurance the company offered to protect Barbara and our future child.  We also had started the process of adopting a child.  The things that this man was laying out for us seemed like the logical thing to do. We decided to follow through on the pre-funeral plan and spent the next few hours going through brochures with him.  We picked out our caskets.  We selected the marker that would be placed on our plot.  We selected and paid for the cards that would be given to those attending our funeral.  Everything was paid for except for the renting of the chapel and the opening of the grave when the time came.  Barbara thought that we may want a funeral in a church instead of at the funeral home so we left that off.  Otherwise, everything was taken care of.  Barbara was 26 and I was 25 when we bought everything that would be needed for a funeral.  In about 15 years it would all be paid for and not a worry for whatever the future held.

Now we move forward to July of 2018.  Barbara was facing a surgery that was extremely risky.  Neither of us knew what the outcome would be going into that surgery.  During the month or so before the surgery Barbara began getting things in place.  She only discussed with me what changes would need to be done to the house and our schedules when she came home from the hospital after the surgery.  We made changes in the bathroom.  She had already been forced to store her clothes on a lower plane than she use to be able to have.  The kitchen had also changed since she started getting worse.  Cabinets we not used much.  The kitchen table became her cabinets.  To me it was a disorganized mess, but to her it was what she needed and she pretty much knew where to find things.  

The night before the surgery right before I went to bed, she called me over to her chair. I sat in my chair next to her and she turned her computer towards me.

"I have something on the computer I want you know about," she said very seriously. 

 She pointed to an icon on the computer.  Underneath the icon was a single word. "If".

She tapped the computer screen with her fingernail.

"This file is for you just in case."  As she said this her eyes never left me.  She wanted to be sure I understood.

"In case of..??" I asked, with an idea of what the "in case" was.

"You'll know.  I don't want you to open it until it is time to, ok?"  She was still staring at me so seriously.  I knew exactly what she was referring to now.  "If" things did not go the way we were expecting them to. "If" she did not come home.  I promised her I would not be opening that file.  Her eyes got a little wet and she patted my hand as I gave her a kiss goodnight.

As we left the house on the morning of the 16th of July, neither of us were thinking, or at least talking about anything other than the outcome being that she would come home. As she went into surgery and we talked for the last time, kissed for the last time and expressed our love for each other the last time, the knowledge of the "If" file left my mind.  

As the week progressed and the reality of what the outcome of this week was going to be I remembered the "If" file.  I would come home to take care of Dutch and rest a little before heading back to the hospital.  During those few hours at the house I would open her computer and stare at that icon with "If" underneath it.  I did not open it though,  It wasn't time to open it yet. I would return to the hospital still holding out hope that I would not need to open it although as the week progressed it became painfully clear that I would be opening that file.

July 22, 2018.  In the morning the the nurses were checking Barbara constantly.  The ICU doctor came in more than usual checking on her.  I stepped out in the room for a second just to think and was approached by the hospital chaplain.  She talked to me a bit although I can't remember what was said.  She was basically holding out a hand to me if I needed it.  That was the day that Barbara's vitals all crashed at once and I left the room while they tried to stabilize her.  That was the moment I realized I would be opening the "If" file.

July 23, 2018. The doctor came into Barbara's room and put her hand on my shoulder.  We talked about the situation.  All that could be done had been done.  They began to take her off of life support as I gave her one last kiss.

My mind was racing as I walked out of the ICU for the last time.  I was blessed to have my sister Karen there with me, my cousin Ellen and other cousins.  Barbara was gone.  I sought out Ellen and asked her to call Floral Hills and have them start getting the paperwork for Barbara's funeral arrangements moving, which she did.  While I was phoning Barbara's sister and telling her what had happened, Ellen was getting things moving.  She came back and told me the funeral home had the files and were beginning to get things together.  It was arranged that I would go to the funeral home ... you know I can't remember if it was the next day or the day after that.  

Anyway, I got home in the afternoon of the day that Barbara passed.  My neighbors were sitting out on the front deck of the house next door waiting for news.  I talked to them and that little group remembered times with Barb with me. It was something I needed.

It was that evening when I was alone that I reluctantly turned on Barbara's computer.  I stared at the "If" icon for a few minutes before opening it.  I won't go into detail about what she had written but it was an amazing file.  She started by telling me to carry on.  She was ok now.  She told me she knew I would think I could not do it, but I had to, if anything for Brett.  She said that mine and Brett's suits were in a dry cleaning bag in the hall closet along with our white shirts.  She had Lori take them to be dry cleaned. 

She asked if I would ask Keith to do her funeral.  Keith was Keith Gibson.  He had been in Barbara's first children's choir and had grown up to be a minister.  We had started attending his church several years before and he had become the man we knew as our pastor.  She listed the music she wanted played.  One of the songs, not surprisingly, was a song I had never heard of.  Barb was much more up to date on music than I was.  When it came to music for me, it had might as well been 1974.  She also said she did not want a lot of flowers because I wouldn't know how to take care of them.  Instead, she wanted people to make donations to the Missouri Baptist Children's Home, where we had adopted Brett from.

She had everything planned out "If".  

Karen went with me and Brett to the funeral home to meet with the funeral director and make the final arrangements.  I did not have to pick out a casket.  I did not have to do much of anything.  All that hard stuff was already done and paid for.  The funeral director asked me about flowers and I told her about the children's home, but I would like a spray for the casket but I had my own florist that I was going to use.  I told her I would be using Kamp's for the spray.  She looked surprised and told me that was the the funeral homes florist.  She asked me why Kamp's and I told her about my grandfather and our family history with Mr. Kamp. So the spray for her casket came from Kamp's and that was good.

I was also instructed by the funeral director to bring some clothes for Barbara the next day.  I had no idea what to do when it came to that.  On the drive home I tried to think about outfits that Barbara liked, but how would I find them?  Would I be able to put an outfit together?  When I got home I walked back to Barb's room to start trying to put something together for her.  I walked into that room and there, laying on the bed, was an outfit laid out.  I cried at that point.  She had thought of absolutely everything.

The funeral was set for the next Saturday July 28, 2018.  Keith came over to talk to me and Brett about Barb.  He pretty well knew a lot about Barb but it was good to talk to him about her anyway.  He told me he was honored to speak at Barbara's service.  This was the first inkling of the impact that Barbara had made on people's lives.

So now the funeral, which is what this was supposed to be all about.  It was sad but good.  We had rented the big chapel at Floral Hills.  I knew Barbara had a lot of friends, classmates from high school , people she had attended church with, I just had a feeling a lot of people loved my wife and would be there.  That feeling proved out on that Saturday.

I am not a good people person.  That was Barb's job in our relationship.  she dealt with people while I just followed.  That Saturday though I had to stand there with my son and sister in law as people came to pay there respects to Barb and to offer their condolences to my little family.  It was not easy.  There were people who I knew their names but had never met.  There were people I had known through the years with Barb.  There were a lot of people.  The showing of love that people had for Barbara was ... I guess overwhelming.

They played the songs that Barb had wanted and Keith talked.  Keith talked about Barbara and how he had come to know her as an adult.  He talked of her smile and her laugh.  He talked of her impact on his family, on his children.  He talked about Barb's love for sweatshirts that had funny sayings on them that referred directly to herself.  He spoke of her impact on so many peoples lives.  He finished by telling the story of Barb's faith and how anyone could have the faith and assurance that Barb had.  He spoke the Salvation message, which I was very pleased with.  Barbara would have expected him to do no less than that.

The plot that Barb and I have is not far from the chapel at Floral Hills.  We had decided to forego using a hearse to take Barbara to the site.  Our nephews and a couple of cousins acted as pall bearers and walked next to Barbara's casket as we walked out of the chapel, across the drive and down to the grave site.  Me and Brett followed them and all of the people who had come to pay their respect for Barbara followed us.  It was special.  I think Barbara would have loved it.

At the gravesite, Keith read scripture and talked more about what death is, what it means, and what comes out through death with having faith in God and the resurrection that gives that assurance.  It was a wonderful service and I can not ever thank Keith enough for his words on that day.

After the funeral family and friends went over to my cousin Ellen's house for a dinner that would allow all of us to remember Barbara.  To laugh about things she had done, to remember her and to express how blessed we all were to have had her in our lives.

I was exhausted when I arrived home that evening.  I sat up all night thinking about our life together over those 42 years.  I thought of good times, bad times, fun times and rough times.  We had been through a lot.  For some reason she thought I was worth working hard to stay together.  I honestly do not understand that.  

In the days following the funeral, I began to adjust to my new life.  Barbara's wish for making donations to the Children's home was followed as I sent checks totaling over $500 to the organization that had given her our son.

Dit-MCO had given me as much time as I needed after Barb's death and I took that time to accept my sister Elaine's invitation to spend some quiet time in Alabama while I made mental adjustments.  Eventually I returned to Missouri and went back to work.  I began to work on starting a life without her.  For the first time in my entire life, I was living alone.

Thank you to all of you who attended and for all the prayers given during that time.  Thanks to a special set of people who gave me support during that time.  My sister Elaine and brother Bob.  My sister Karen.  Cousins Ellen, Susie, Pete, Eric, Jerry and a special friend Phil Vinyard who was there at hours early in the morning to check on me and Barbara and for being there early that last morning of Barb's life when I was feeling so helpless and alone.

Barbara showed tremendous strength and courage to prepare for whichever way the surgery went.  I will always admire her and be thankful to her for that. 

I am continuing to move forward in life without Barbara.  I still love her.  I miss her.  I always will.  But I know that Barbara would not want me to sit and fade away from life.  She said so in the "If" file.

PREPARE BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW

I need to write again for my own sanity.  It helps to clear my head and helps me to think about things that need thinking about.  As I sat thinking about what to write two things came to mind.  First I do not want to write about how COVID-19 is effecting me and how I see it effecting others.  We have plenty to read on that topic and nobody knows for sure much about it anyway.  Secondly I did not want to write another piece on Barbara or how life has changed since she passed.  I do not want to burn out my readers by hearing that over and over again. There will be plenty of time to write about many things concerning my life with Barb.  I tried to do this in my last entry concerning Debbie but by the time I got to the end of it, there was still a lot of Barbara in there.  I suppose that is how it will probably be from now on.  So much of my life experiences had Barbara involved in them with me.  After all two-thirds of my life was spent with her.  This is another experience that she and I shared together.

This is about preparing for events that we do not know when or how they will happen.  This is about being ready for as much as we possibly can and the steps that we took to prepare for these things.

One big lesson that I was taught came from Barbara's daddy, Harry.  Harry was a very wise and thoughtful man who had lived through a difficult childhood and ended up making his way through life on his own.  I haven't written much about Harry but I could write a lot.  I can make a direct comparison between Harry and my grandfather and my father.  Both had to deal with events that basically were out of their control and somehow learn to control it as best as they could.  Harry had to deal with making a career out of something he loved, raising two daughters while caring for a wife who was seriously mentally ill.  It was not easy for him or for his daughters.  Harry, however, was able to visualize down the road of life and see what would be required if he were to live a normal lifetime and that is where my lesson from Harry came from.

I was young.  I am not even sure I was his son at the time when he spoke this magic sentence that led me to prepare for the future decades away.  I remember that sentence so clearly.  Harry knew that with Barb and myself being so young, we were making our way through life basically from paycheck to paycheck.  I have tried to pass this quote down to my son and my nieces and nephews through the years.

So you are wondering what this sentence was that changed my life so dramatically?  It was a very simple sentence but filled with some very heavy wisdom.  Harry told me, "When you sit down to pay your bills every month, be sure to pay yourself first."  That was it.  Simple.  Direct.  Wise.  I thought about that advice for a long time.  It made sense to follow that advise but as we all know it isn't always easy, especially when you are just beginning your path through life.

One day, we had a big Human Resources meeting at the company.  It had been at least five years since Harry had bestowed upon me that little piece of wisdom.  The company was starting a new program called a 401k account.  The idea was that money would be held from your check voluntarily and would not be taxable at the end of the year.  It would be invested by an outside source in various markets to maximize the yield of the money.  Furthermore, for the first seven percent of your salary that you set aside for retirement, the company would match it.  So if I decided to set aside that seven percent a month, I would be investing fourteen percent of my salary towards our future and it would all be tax free until I decided to retire.  Even now it almost seems to good to be true, which was why I thought about it for awhile.  While I was thinking, those words that Harry had spoken to me a few years before came back to mind, "pay yourself first..."

I took all the reading material home and studied it.  This was back before the internet was really a thing in ordinary households so I was not able to "google" anything but instead had to read up on it myself.  Barb and I discussed it and decided we could afford somewhere around four percent to set aside at the time.  As our circumstances changed over the years, we could adjust our contributions to the 401k which we did.

Now the time is drawing near that all of that savings over the last thirty five years or so will assist me as I look forward to retirement in October of 2021.  I will be 65 years old, receive Social Security benefits and have that investment from my 401k to tap into if I need to.  Hopefully by then the markets will have recovered sufficiently enough to get me back to where I was before this whole virus thing crashed the markets over the last few weeks.

Even if my money does not recover to it's high points, it is still good to know that I have a safety net of sorts as I begin my life of leisure, as they call retirement.  It was a plan.  It was preparation for the future.  I feel good about it.

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It was a spring day, a Saturday I believe, in 1982 when we received a knock on our door.  The gentleman who was making a visit to us was from Floral Hills Cemetery and Funeral Home.  He said in introducing himself that he was there to help us get prepared for something that everyone has to deal with at some point in life, that being death.  Barbara invited him in to talk before I had a chance to say we were not interested.  For the next two hours or so we talked with this man about what our plans were for the future.

At this time we had begun the process of applying to adopt a child from the Missouri Baptist Children's Home and so talk about preparing for the future found it's way into our thinking.  It made sense to both of us.  Pre-plan everything now for something that could happen at anytime.  The fact is that nobody knows what tomorrow may hold.

We did purchase a pre-plan for the future.  I am not sure what Barb's final thoughts that made her mind up were, but for me it was basically a concern for Barb and for our future child.  If something happened to me, the majority of the funeral plans would be paid for.  This included the plot for our final resting place, the casket, service cost, the grave marker, basically everything except the opening and the closing of the grave.  As young as we were, chances were that the majority of the funeral cost for me would already be paid for and Barb would not have to deal with whatever emotions she might be dealing with while trying to make decisions concerning a funeral.  Anything that was not completely paid for would be taken care of with my life insurance policies that she would receive upon my death.  This was a way to take a lot of the stress from the life changing event that she would face.

We finished paying off the pre-plan several years ago.  It was about that time that Barbara's health began to worsen on an ever increasing pace.

July 23, 2018.  I had spent the night at the hospital holding Barb's hand as she lay in a coma for what had been a week.  From the events of the day before I knew that this would be the last day of our time together.  It was about 7:00 that morning when an old friend of mine, Phil, showed up to visit Barbara to find me there with her.  Phil knew what I knew.  This was not going to get better.  Later he told me that when he walked into that ICU room he wondered if I realized what was happening and when he looked me in the eye he realized that yes, I did know what was happening.  Phil left and soon my sister Karen arrived to sit with me at Barbara's side.  Soon a few of my cousins arrived at the hospital as they had everyday over the previous week.  It was at 10:00 in the morning that day when the doctors and nurses came in to tell me that they had run out of options for Barbara.  I gave permission to take away all of the life support equipment that had kept her alive for the previous week and Barbara left me after I gave her a kiss.

I went out to the waiting room and knew that Barb had a plan for her funeral that was now to come into play.  I asked my cousin Ellen to call the funeral home and let them know about Barbara so that they could get things started on pulling what Barb had chosen so many many years before.  Brett, Karen and myself went to the funeral home the next day and went through things with the funeral director.  We ended up spending maybe a half hour to forty-five minutes there without having to make any serious decisions.  Those decisions had already been made.  Everything was paid for except the opening of the grave, as we were told it would be way back in 1982

Her is the thing concerning this.  It was supposed to make things easier for Barbara, not for me.  The fact is, again, that none of us knows what tomorrow brings.  Anything could happen at anytime.  You know, one of the things that went through my mind and continues to do so, is taking those wedding vows.  Back then it was before you wrote your own vows.  Dr. Wilson had a book of suggested vows that he shared with us as we prepared to get married.  In almost every single one of those vows was the line "Until Death Do Us Part".  I had heard that line in movies, in plays, and in real life at weddings and  I did not think about what it really meant.  It was something that was just said as part of the tradition and the ceremony.  "Until death do us part".  That concept, the idea of death ending your marriage when you are only 19 and 20 years old is such a foreign idea.  You don't think about that actually happening.  It won't happen.  It escapes your mind and you don't think about it.

It does happen though and you do not know when or where it will, but death will visit that marriage. Death visited our marriage and we have parted from each other on this earth.

And so I advise everyone that I can, every time the opportunity presents itself to let people know that one of the best things you can do for each other is to pre-plan your end of life requirements.  It takes so much pressure and stress away from the situation.  The decisions drop to just minor decisions instead of major ones.  It makes it a lot easier on the funeral directer as well.  That has to be a tough job being a funeral director.  Walking grief stricken families through the process of method of burial, purchase of caskets or urns, choosing a plot.  It takes a special person to carry out that job with caring and discernment.  Oh but how much easier it is when all of those decisions are made.  The funeral director can take time to talk and to listen to you about your partner who you have just lost.  They can have the strength to help you  and to comfort you.

Please, my dear readers.  For the sake of your loved ones give them this simple gift of not having to face the stress of making all of these difficult decisions when they are most vulnerable.  Pre-plan.

PREPARE.  Prepare for whatever lies down the road for you and those you love.  Whether it means paying yourself first before you pay your bills or preparing for the unthinkable, prepare.

Prepare, because none of us ever know what lies in store for us tomorrow.

ONE YEAR AND THE PROGRESS MADE

It was July 23, 2018 when my wife of 42 years  left this world for the next.  At the time I had spent a week by her side while she lay in a coma.  God had given me the time to prepare for what I was about to go through.  A year ago last Sunday, on July 28, 2018, we laid Barbara to rest in a spot we had purchased when death was the furthest things from our minds in 1982.  It was the next day as I sat in my house alone for the first time that a new life began for me.  A life without Barbara.

As I sat there thinking the events of the last two weeks and the last 42 years over I realized I was not ready for this new style of living.  I didn't want this new style of living.  I wanted my Barbie back.  The reality of her no longer being with me hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before.  I did not think I was capable of taking care of things the Barb had.  I did not know how to pay bills electronically.  I did not know so many things about what Barb did during the day while I was at work to keep the house moving along in spite of her pain and fatigue.

I would learn though.  I had no choice but to learn.  I spent the better part of the year trying to straighten out her Social Security Disabled status and getting the billing for her hospital stay that week to the proper insurance companies.  It was frustrating.  It was hard.  On top of that I was still learning the workings of the house.  I had to learn the dog's daily schedule.  I had to remember to clean things once in awhile.  Apparently they just didn't get done by themselves.  It was during this time that I came to realize how dependent I truly was on Barbara for so many little things.  The time that it takes to get those little things taken care of add up quickly.  I am so very thankful that Lori was there on a daily basis to help Barbara and to keep an eye on her.  Lori allowed Barbara to do what she could so her self esteem would not drop but take over when Barbara could not do anymore each day.

It seemed that as each day passed without Barbara, my sadness and grief would grow.  For the past several years when I would come home from work each day, Barbara managed to get out of her chair and her and Dutch would go to the front door, open it up and greet me as I walked up the sidewalk.  I never realized how much that meant not only to me, but to Barbara as well.  It was something that she could do to make my day a little better after a rough day at the office.  Now as each day passed and I would come home from work walking up the sidewalk, the door would remain closed.  Dutch would be on the other side of that door waiting for it to open.  Each day as Dutch and I went through that new ritual I found myself missing Barbara just a little bit more.

As difficult as those things were, they were the easy part of learning a new life without Barbara.  The biggest event that happened was three months and two days later when my father was also called home.  When my grandfather and both my grandmothers had died, Barbara had been there to hold me up.  When my Uncle Danial passed away, who I had been so very close to, Barbara was there to hold me up.  When my sister Carol succumbed to cancer, again Barbara was there to hold me up.  Now daddy was gone and I sat at home by myself alone with not only the thoughts of Daddy, but missing the support that I always got from Barbara.  I went to Alabama to talk at dad's funeral service there and found myself looking for Barbara to talk to from the pulpit as I had at Dan's memorial service.  Barbara was not to be found though and I had an extremely difficult time getting through that talk without her.  It was the first time I had publicly spoken where I did not have an anchor to keep my emotions in check and I did not do very well.  I found myself looking at three faces to try to be that anchor, my nephew Bo, my niece Kimberly Joyce and my great niece Haylee.  However all three of those loving faces could not bring me the inner strength that the one face of Barbara had always brought to me.

I started writing this about a month ago.  I set it aside for a time in order to take a hard look at the progress I have made since July of 2018.  I think I have progressed fairly well.

Progress.  It has been small and slow steps.  I stop and think about it, and it is an entirely different life and lifestyle that I have never experienced before.  It has been a learning experience.

I have come to the point where I can look at pictures of Barbara and recall the memory that goes along with the picture.  I can remember it as a good memory and smile, enjoying the memory in the moment.  However, these moments are also still filled with sadness but it is no longer a crushing sadness of realizing she is gone.  It has morphed into a good sadness.  I can smile and still miss her.

That is the biggest part of my progress I guess.  Just being able to have memories and enjoy them a little along with the sadness.

I have begun to get out a little more instead of planting myself in the house.   I am getting more comfortable going to the grocery store and buying for one instead of two.  That is a more difficult than most people would realize.

Then there is the telephone situation.  I have not changed our outgoing message.  If you call me and I do not pick up, Barbara's voice will still explain that we are busy, please leave a message.  I am not sure if I want to change these recording or not.  On the one hand, I have a place that I can call and hear Barbara's voice whenever I want.  On the other hand, I have no idea how to change the messages.  This leads to my substantial progress in learning how to use the cell phone.  This piece of equipment was totally foreign to me.  I have learned over the last year how to actually use it in ways that help me get things done.  I have learned how to text, and I use to despise texting.  I have learned how to browse on it and how to use the calendar and clock.

The other side of progress on the phone is making phone calls.  I am not good at this.  I do not particularly like talking on the phone and I have a real problem making a phone call.  I can answer a call much easier than placing a call.  Anxiety over takes me when I try to do this.  For all those years I had Barbara there to take care of things over the phone.  She would make the calls and get things straightened out.  Now I have to do that myself.  I am getting better at it.  I have learned that it is better to just jump in and make the call and most of the time things will work out.  I used to procrastinate making a call until after it was too late to make the call.  I had to learn how to do this fairly quickly as I took care of all of the paperwork involving Social Security, Medicare, and all of the hospital bills that were created for Barbara's care.  I still freeze a little when preparing to place a call but I am much better at jumping in and just doing it.

I have progressed a tiny bit on going through some of Barbara's things and getting things in order by either getting rid of stuff or finding a proper place for what I want to keep.  Going through her clothes  is the toughest part for me.  I have yet to make a dent in all of her outfits but I am getting there.  I know what I have to do.  I know how it will turn out.  It is just difficult getting rid of anything of Barbara's.  It is something that needs to be done.  I know this.

Going through Barbara's clothes is one area where I need to make progress.  The other area where I feel like I have not made any progress is coming home and not being met at the door.  I find it fairly easy to leave the house but extremely difficult coming home.  I still want to be met at the door and I feel the sadness come over me each time I arrive home.  The house, other than Dutch, is empty.  Everything is exactly as it was when I left.  This is more or less an everyday thing that gives to me that cloud of sadness and loneliness.  The house is quiet as I go through the motions of letting Dutch out, putting things away. or doing whatever needs to be done.  When I come home from someplace, it is when I am the most lonely and sad.  I have not gotten use to this feeling, to the quiet, to the emptiness. This is what I am trying to work on now.

So I have made a lot of progress in little steps, but I have a long ways to go yet.  I still love her and miss her and I always will.  Changing your style of living after 42 years is not an easy thing to do.  The best progress I have made is being able to enjoy the memories.  We had a lot of good memories made during our time together.  I will always cherish those times.

BARBARA ANN CLARK - PART 3

Well today is January 23, 2019.  Six months to the day since God called our Barbara home.  I thought that now would be a good time to finish writing about Barb and the end of her journey through life here on this Earth.

Barb successfully received her tissue valve in March of 2016 via the TAVR procedure and it worked great for awhile.  By the end of the summer though it began to show the first signs of failing.  By the end of October of 2016, she was having stamina problems once again as her breathing slowly became more difficult.  It was then that the Doctors and Surgical team began to look for causes that could be causing her to decline just a bit.

The first thing they thought was that a blood clot had formed inside of her heart partially blocking the intake of the new valve.  She was put on blood thinners to try to slowly break down any clot that might be there.  Because of her stature and the problems with her back and neck, they could not get a good image of her heart to tell what was actually going on inside there.

Soon she began to retain water early in 2017 and was put on a heavy regiment of diuretics.  While the medicine did seem to at least stop the continued retaining of fluids, it came to the point where it over taxed her kidneys.  She was admitted to the hospital for almost a week to try to get the kidneys back to as close to normal as they could.  It worked to a point with her kidneys recovering to about 90% of what they should be.

As we entered 2018, after several months on the blood thinners they came to the conclusion that there was not a blood clot in her heart. The blood thinners would have dissipated the clot by that point.  Meanwhile the fluid sack around her heart became the target of the doctors concerns.  They were able to do a few minor tests that led them to this conclusion and the symptoms made sense.  With fluid around her heart building, the heart was forced to work harder to be able to pump the required blood through.  As the heart continued to over work it began to harden and the walls of the heart were getting thicker.  The heart is a muscle and so it was over excersizing and like any muscle, excersize brings growth of the muscle.  It was also at this time that they discovered that her heart murmur was returning indicating that the valve was indeed failing.

In the spring of 2018, they, as well as Barb and myself, had a decision to make.  The heart valve was failing.  The heart was being overworked.  The proper course of action was to get into her heart and thin out the walls of the heart to make it more pliable and easier to do its job.  The tissue valve would also be replaced by a mechanical valve.  It was a procedure that the surgeons have done many times, but Barb was different.

We had already established that open heart surgery was extremely risky for Barb.  It was, however, the only option they had left to do what needed to be done.  It was risky enough that they gave Barb a very real option.  The surgery was risky.  Extremely risky.  IT was at BEST a 60/40 chance of success.  That was if everything went perfect.  If they ran into little bumps during the surgery the odds of survival went down.  If Barb elected not to do the surgery, chances were that her heart  would more than like give out in approximately a year.  If the surgery was successful, her life span would be unknown, but would be in the years, not the months.  The two of us discussed this a lot as we entered the summer of 2018 and eventually came the day when Barb decided to try the surgery.  The doctors set the date for the surgery at July 16, 2018.

Leading up to the surgery day, Barb began to prepare.  She prepared for both possible outcomes.  She planned on what we would need and how to set things up when she came home from the surgery.  She also planned things out for me in the case that she didn't come home.  She had Lori take Brett's and my suits to be dry cleaned.  She prepared a file on her computer desktop entitled "If" that I was to open if something went wrong.  This file listed things that she wanted done after she died and also listed her funeral requests.  When I think on her preparing for both scenarios, it makes me realize how incredibly strong and brave she was going into the surgery.  She was indeed a remarkable woman.

The surgery did not go well.  It started out fine but then it seemed like everything was going wrong.

I am not going to get into all the details of the ups and downs that Barb had during and after the surgery.  I don't think I can at this point.  It would be extremely difficult for me to write. I did however write an email to one of her friends outlining what happened during the surgery and afterwards.  I am going to share that email as a tool to describe what went on.  I will say this though.  The night of the surgery, no one on the surgical staff thought Barb would make it through the night.  She did.  She not only made it through the night but made it a week before her poor body gave out.

Here is the email I sent to her friend describing in a very sketchy way what happened that week.

Barbara's aortic valve that they had put in back in 2016 had failed and was getting worse.  in 2016 they had attempted to put that valve in via open heart but decided it was too risky.  They ended up putting the valve in through her aorta.

When that valve failed she was faced with two options.  Try to get a new valve in by open heart surgery which was extremely risky or wait until the initial valve would give out.  It would have lasted maybe a year but probably less.  She decided to try getting a new valve even though it would be open heart.

The surgery was extremely risky.  We knew that going in, which was probably why she kept it on the down low.  it was pretty much a 50/50 chance.

Her surgery was scheduled for July 16.  At first it seemed like things were going okay.  They were able to open her chest.  Then we got word that the new valve had been inserted.  I truly thought at that point that we had it made.  When they went to put her heart back together, however, the tissue in her heart walls would not hold a suture.  The tissue would tear every time and pretty soon she was hemorrhaging.  The surgeon did his best to try to get things back and ended up putting some packing in her heart to try to help the blood clot and stop bleeding.  What was suppose to be a five hour surgery turned out to be twelve hours.

During this time of all the bleeding her heart weakened substantially.   Damage was also incurred on the kidneys and her respiratory system.  He did get the packing inserted and was able to close, but the outlook was extremely grim.  They did not think she would make it through the night.  She was put on full life support.  Her heart was working very weak but she could not breathe on her own.  They put a "balloon pump through her artery.to assist her heart in beating.  She was on 100% ventilator.

The plan was to try to get her vitals stabilized since she had made it through the night.  She was put on about 12 different meds that they tried to tweak to get her vitals up to somewhat normal.  After a few days her kidneys began to fail and she started retaining fluids putting extra strain on her already weakened heart.  They put her on dialyses at that point.

On Sunday afternoon, July 22, all of a sudden every thing crashed.  Her heart rate raced upwards to 200 bpm and her blood pressure plummeted.  I came home that evening but couldn't stay away.  I went back to the hospital and spent the night talking to her and holding her hand.

At 10:00 Monday morning, July 23, the doctor came in and said that they had done everything they could.  They could keep her on life support for a little while but it was just putting off the inevitable.  I decided that she would not want that and so they began the process of disconnecting the ventilator and the heart  pump and turned the dialyses machine off and stopped all meds.  I was able to talk to her a bit and give her a kiss.  She passed away at 10:10 AM on July 23.

She never awoke from the surgery.  She went peacefully and quietly without pain.

We were prepared for either outcome but I don't think either of us really thought she would not make it through safely.  It was the saddest day of my life.

We had been married 42 years with two years of dating before being wed.  She was my life.

The world is a lesser place without her.

Thank you for your friendship, she treasured it.  She was the social one of the two of us.

I knew two days into her time in ICU that week the direction things were heading.  She never woke up but God gave me a week to spend time with her, day and night and to talk to her though she never answered.  The week that God gave me prepared me and helped me to develop the strength I would need in the weeks, days, months ahead as 2018 became one of the most difficult years of my life.

Barb was a gem.  She deserved and could have done much better than being with me all those years.

I thank God for that week in ICU with her.  I wish I could tell her that I did do my best for her during that time.

I am sorry for not being a better husband to you than I was over the years.  I did do my best though and I know that she did her best as we traveled on that journey together for forty two years. 

I love you Barbara Ann.  I miss you so very much.

This is a link to her obituary I thought you might want to have.   https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/kansas-city-mo/barbara-clark-7942486

BARBARA ANN CLARK - PART TWO

Ok, this turned out to be a lot more difficult than I imagined.  I promised that part two on Barbara would be concerning her health as it worsened over the years.  I have been trying to write this for a week now.  I have written and then deleted several writings.  This took me out of my regular way of writing, which is to just write what is in my mind and let it flow.  I tried to be precise but at the same time convey the emotions and feelings that the two of us went through as we began down this road that would lead to surgeries and end with her passing.  I can't do both those styles.  I have decided to just write from my heart, use my emotions and throw in the visions of memories of Barbara as she put up a long fight to get well.  It hurts to write about this and may sound jumbled up and it might not even make sense.  What needs to be understood is that right now, after the last 5 months which involved losing not only Barbara, but my good friend Jim, his daughter Lori, my father and my Uncle Dale, this period of time has been extremely confusing, fast moving, and terribly sad.  I will do my best for you though.

Barbara had a heart murmur for as long as she could remember.  I think she just assumed she had it all of her life.  Maybe she did.  It was her aortic valve that had the mummer but it was a small one and the doctors were not really concerned about it. They kept an eye on it through the years and it just seemed to be a small problem that she would more than likely have throughout her life.  What brought us to July 23, 2018 was much more than a heart situation.  It was a combination of health issues that she had to deal with as the years ticked by.

So I guess we can say her health issues started with that pesky mummer. Other things about Barbara that would come into play as far as her health was that she was very small.  She stood all of 4ft-10in.  It wasn't only her height that was small but she had extremely small arteries.  When she was in her mid thirties, she developed type two diabetes.  She was very good at taking care of her diabetes.  She kept her diet under control and took all of her medications to keep the diabetes under control.  During this time she was a tiny bit obese but not bad at all.  She kept everything under control.  She was very active, keeping moving all the time and had a pretty healthy social life by way of the church and her high school classmates.  She took courses at local colleges and was very good at managing the office of the firm where she worked.  When Brett joined our family, she took off work to raise Brett, which kept her very active.  After Brett was in his teenage years, she returned to work and was able to work without any problem.

Around 2005 or so, her body started to change.  It was her back.  Her spine started to fuse together slowly.  As the spine hardened it began to curve forward, bending her over just slightly, not enough that you would really notice.  The fusing of the spine did start to cause her pain though and the pain continued to increase as the fusing of the spine progressed.  Eventually they tried to give her a shot for the pain thinking they could manage it that way, however the spine was so hardened and fused that they could not get a needle in to give her the shot.  They ruled out surgery for some reason but right now I can't remember the reasoning behind that.  She tried several things to try to loosen her back and ease the pain.  She joined an excersize club and that work for awhile but as the spine continued to deteriorate, it slowly became too difficult for her to continue.  She tried acupuncture at one point but that had no effect on the pain at all.  She eventually went to a massage therapist once or twice a week and that did seem to loosen the back just enough to relieve the pain just enough for her to continue on.  Eventually, the massage ceased to have an effect on the back as it steadily got worse.

Eventually her back had her hunched over to the point where she had to start using a cane to keep her balance.  The fusion of her spine continued up on into her neck and before long she could not raise her head, lower her head, or turn it from side to side.  Basically her entire spine was fused and hardened and unable to move. As the spine got worse, the pain increased.  She started using heat pads on her back and the heat would help ease the pain a little bit.  She finally got a TENS unit where I would place four electrodes on her lower back on either side of the spine and run the small electrical pulses through the muscle around her spine for about 15 minutes before bed when the pain was especially bad on certain days.  When she got to this point she could not walk very well at all and was using the cane constantly.

In 2011 or 2012, sometime during that period, she began having small chest pains and it was becoming more difficult for her to be active without becoming fatigued.  Her doctor referred her to a cardiologist and after taking some tests, they discovered that she had a couple of partially blocked arteries.  She went in the hospital and they inserted two stents to open up the arteries.  This was when it was discovered how small her arteries actually were.  The stents eased the chest pains a little but the fatigue was still an issue.  Her back and neck were totally fused by this time and she became pretty compromised.  It was about this time as well that her diabetes began to catch up with her and she began to retain water which caused her to gain weight which had an effect on her fatigue.

She continued to worsen over the next four years.  She never let on how much pain she was in or how tired she felt all the time.  When she was out in public, she always had a smile on her face and she was "pretty good".  I saw a different side though.  I saw her consistently getting less and less mobile.  I saw her ability to do things being stifled.  Soon we ended moving anything she might need down to a bout three feet off the floor.  The kitchen floor became her can goods shelf. In the bedroom, the bed, her desk, the top of the dresser became her closet.  I tried to be there as much as I could to get her things she couldn't reach.

Then in late 2015, after having some tests done, they diagnosed that her aortic valve was failing.  One of the leaves in the valve was disintegrating and her heart was not pushing enough blood through her heart to the rest of her body.  As the blood flow decreased, she began to show the effects of not enough blood to her brain.  It had minor effects but if you spent time with her, you could tell that she was having trouble with her memory.  The fatigue continued to increase and they finally told her she needed a valve replacement.  The date was set for January of 2016 to replace the valve.

We went and checked into the hospital early on that January day and she was taken to be prepped for surgery.  It was to be open heart surgery.  After hours of prepping her, they discovered she had a small infect in one of her fingers.  The surgery was called off and rescheduled until after her infection had been cleared up by antibiotics.  The next date was set for February, but after a week of testing to be sure she was healthy enough for surgery, her blood sugars stopped it.  The antibiotics had messed them up and so now it was a race to get her diabetes back under control.

Finally, March 6th of 2016 was set as the date for the surgery.  The day came and once again it was early morning when we arrived at St. Luke's.  She was taken in and prepped.  Things seemed to be going as planned.  They called me back to the prep room to spend some time with her before she went to surgery.  I watched as she was wheeled off into the operating room.  It wasn't long before a nurse came to me in the waiting room and informed me the surgeon wanted to see me.  She assured me that everything was ok.  The surgeon informed me that they had decided that the open heart option was too risky to take.  Her short stature and fused spine made it extremely difficult and dangerous to try to get to the heart through open heart surgery.  They had pulled her out of the operating room with out even making an incision.

However there was a new option that was brand new and you had to qualify to have it done.  It was called a TAVR, or trans aortic valve replacement.  This was just coming out of the testing stage and was being used as an option to those not able to have the open heart option.  It involved taking a pig valve, or tissue valve, through her groin and running it through her arteries to the heart where it would be placed inside the failing valve and then opened up sealing it in place and giving her a new valve.

They decided to keep her in the hospital for a week to be sure she was healthy enough to have the TAVR.  During this time they took her into surgery one afternoon to place a stent in an artery that was partially clogged.  After a week in the hospital the day finally arrived for her to get a new valve.

The surgery went very well.  They had to use the smallest size valve that there was because her arteries were so small, but it worked.  That evening, the surgeon came in to talk to her,  He informed her that they were going to try to get her up and walking the next day if they could.  Both of us were kind of doubtful if this would happen.  But the next afternoon, the nurses came in to see how well she could walk with the new valve.  All day long I was noticing how her coloring was better in her face.  She kept saying how she didn't feel very tired all day long.  She slowly got up and made her way to the hall.  The nurse handed the cane to her and told her to try to walk and see how she felt.  What happened next simply amazed me.  Barb took off walking at a brisk pace up the hallway.  The nurses were standing back with me watching but not for long.  They had to take off to stop her and turn her around back towards her room.  I stood there with what must have been a huge grin as I watched her power her way back up the hall.  Again the nurses had to catch up with her as she passed her room and stop her so she could get back and sit in the chair to rest.  She insisted she was okay but the nurses made her rest anyway.  She was amazed herself.  She had not felt this good in years.  No fatigue whatsoever.  She was still bent over with the fused spine but she had her cane and she could be mobile without any problems at all.  It truly was amazing.  She was out of the hospital and back home within three days of getting the new valve.

The timing was perfect.  A month or so after her surgery, I broke my leg while taking the dog out at night one evening.  I was helpless.  I ended up going in for surgery to put plates in my leg and was sidelined for several weeks.  She was healthy enough to help me through my own recovery.

The new valved held up for quite awhile after that but not long enough. through the year of 2017 and into 2018, she began to start feeling fatigued again.  The staff at St. Luke's were trying everything to think of to keep her going.  She did a trial study for new drugs that would treat her diabetes and at the same time keep her heart working.  She went through cardio-rehab for a second time and graduated.  She continued to try to walk up and down the street, but the distance she was able to walk became less and less.  The fatigue was coming back slowly but surely.

Wow.  Stopping to take a breath from writing and reread this discombobulation of words and I apologize for the poor writing.  Please be patient with me.  this is not an easy write so far.

You know, I think this enough writing for one post.  The tale of her last surgery may be long, or it could be short.  I am not sure how I will write it.  It definitely will be the hardest thing I ever wrote about her and I want to get it right.  So lets just finish it here for now knowing that her first valve was failing and it would take another surgery to replace it.  A very risky surgery.

Thank you for your patience with me on this.

THE SILENCE OF DEATH

When someone you love dies, silence follows immediately.  Whether it is a close friend that you love, a family member, or even a celebrity that you have enjoyed their talents, the silence follows.  I don't think we realize this at first, no matter how many times we may have experienced it, but after a time of reflection it sinks in.

We are lucky if we remember the last time with the deceased before the silence fell.  I can't remember the last things I heard either of my grandmothers say before they passed and I feel like I should.   People who are as important to my life, the influence they had on my life, I should be able to remember.  I want to remember.  I can still hear their voices in my head.  My grandmother Clark's slight little laugh and her "Oh My!!".  I will never hear that again.  I will never hear my Grandmother Hill's seemingly daily expression of "Oh, Oscar!" again.

I do remember some of my family and friends last conversation with me though, and I cherish those.

My sister Carol, on the day she and my sister Elaine left for Georgia, I remember Carol telling me "I'm going back home and we are going to beat this thing"  After I told her I loved her she said with a tilt of her head, "I love you too.  Thanks for your help.  Bye... see ya later"  I didn't see her later.  I didn't hear her voice again.  I won't ever hear her voice again.  Just silence.

I went to see my Uncle Melvin in the hospital a few weeks before he passed.  We had a talk that wasn't too long.  He was tired.  He took the time, maybe five minutes or so, to talk to me though as he held my hand.  I told him I loved him and he smiled and said "I love you too Bill."  Then I told him I was going to miss him and he kind of looked straight through me, to my soul and said very matter of factly "I am going to miss you too .... for a while".  Nothing was left to be said.  I couldn't muster up any more words, any that were there were caught in my throat.  I squeezed his hand and left the room.  A few weeks later I got a call from my mom.  The silence had fallen on my Uncle.

I was with the whole extended family at my Grandfather Hill's house the last time I saw him.  I spent a lot of time talking to him as I sat in my spot on the couch next to his chair.  There wasn't any political talk that night.  There wasn't any philosophizing that night.  There was just talk.  Talk about what a great family this was.  Talk and joking about things that were going on around us.  Bringing in other family members into the conversation. as everyone rotated in to talk to him and everyone did.  I don't mean to say I was with him the whole time, I wasn't but I took my turn in the rotation to spend time with him.  He always had time for anyone and everyone.  Eventually It came time for me to head home.  I took his hand and told him that I had to be heading out.  He looked me straight in the eye as was his custom (he always looked whoever he was talking to in the eye.. and he taught all of us to do the same) and he said "Okay Bill.  You take care.  Bye now." and I turned and left.  This time, the news of the silence falling arrived in the form of a knock on my door in the middle of the night.  It was my mom and dad to tell me he was gone.  I can't say I was stunned or anything.  I was kind of expecting this to happen before long.  Still it did catch me off guard a bit and I had to go to my room for a minute or so to be by myself before coming back to talk to mom.  I learned a lot of little quips from that man like "Now you're railroading" that I still use to this day and each time I say one of those things I picked from him, I can almost hear his voice echoing mine as the words come out.  As I sat next to my grandmother at the funeral home, I could not take my eyes off of the body in the casket.  I would never hear that wise old voice again.  The silence had fallen.

Then there was my Uncle Danial.  Since he had moved back to Kansas City from the Seattle area, we had become so very close.  We worked on his art together.  We discussed every art form there was, from writing to music to paining to sculpture even to the beauty of a well thrown pass in a football game was an art form to him.  He had AIDS and so there were a few health problems that came along with that.  With the help of family members we were able to keep on top of everything and he was able to remain active and sharp and continue to do the things he loved.  Then one day we found out he had cancer.  At first he was determined and the family pulled together again and made sure he made appointments, took medicine and spent time at the radiology treatment at KU-Med.  Then came the day that I went to take him to KU for his treatment and he said he wasn't going.  It was taking too much of a toll on him and his body.  He had decided he would rather spend his remaining days living life as best as he could instead of feeling the side effects of the treatment all the time.  He took fifty dollars out of his wallet and told me to go by three cartons of smokes.  No sense in quitting now he had said and so I did as I was told.  This was when I truly found out how much of an effect he had made on people during his lifetime.  Friends from Chicago and Seattle came to help out in taking care of him.  Friends from his high School  class helped out.  The family pulled together of course and we took care of him.  We took him to the Kansas City Men's Chorus Christmas concert, which had become a tradition for all of us.  We took him to a couple of plays, which he loved.  We spent nights ... I mean all nighters talking and reading.  As his health worsened, we got a hospital bed to put in his living room for him.  His last Christmas was filled with family and friends for a big tree trimming party.  His friends and neighbors, Rick and Dan, catered a dinner for the party that night.  What a joyous evening it was.  He slowly weakened and soon the pain became almost a constant for him.  A nurse from the hospice house began coming by once a week to check on him and to be sure he had medicine to ease the pain.  His mind began to lose track of things and soon it seemed like I was the only one he would be totally honest with about how he was feeling, even though mom and dad, my Aunt June and Uncle Jack, cousins Pete and Susie and my wife were always by his side.  I stopped by his house after work one afternoon and he was in a lot of pain.  The hospice nurse was there but he was having nothing to do with her.  She gave me the medicine that would ease his pain and I tried to give it to him.  He asked "What is this?"  I told him it was okay, this was going to help with the pain.  He looked at me and said "You're lying to me."  I smiled and said that I wasn't, this would help.  Then he said the last words from his mouth to me. "Yeah... well ..." and he took the medicine.  The next morning I got a call at the office saying I had to be there now.  I got to his house and he was doubled over in his bed.  His friend Brian was there, helpless.  My mom was there and the hospice nurse was there.  The nurse told my mom and myself that a decision had to be made.  Mom looked at me and I looked at my uncle.  We made the decision to take him to the hospice house where they could control the pain easier.  He lasted almost a week in hospice without ever falling asleep.  He was gasping for air and breathing hard the whole time.  One night, I guess it was around two in the morning, the hospice nurse on duty came out of his room and I asked her what had been on my mind all that day, that was if he knew I was even there.  She looked at me and smiled "Oh he knows.  He knows" and she went about her work.  The next morning I went to get something to eat in the lobby of the house.  I noticed a piano there.  Now you got to understand that I NEVER play the piano in front of anyone.  It raises my anxiety level to the extreme.  Dan had asked me many times over the years to play for him but I never did.  That morning though, I asked the nurse at the desk if I could play a song or two and she encouraged me to do so.  I played a couple of hymns then got up and went back to my uncle's room.  As I was sponging his lips with water I told him about the piano and that I had played a couple of songs for him.  His eyes widened a bit and though he could not talk I heard what his eyes said.  Those eyes said "Thank you".  He died the next night.  The silence had fallen again but in this case, his eyes had said those precious last words to me.  "Thank you".

Lastly, one of my best friends went silent.  I was not prepared for this.  Dennis and I had worked together for many years.  After he left the company, we kept in constant touch.  We went to races together.  We went out to eat a lot together.  He became an uncle to my son and a very good friend to my nephew.  He went to Thanksgiving with us to my sister's house in Alabama one year.  It seems like my whole adult life was spent with Dennis.  He eventually moved to Mississippi but we kept in constant communication almost on a daily basis.  Aside from my mom and dad, brother and sisters and my niece Kelly Lynn, his birthday was the only other one I could ever remember and that was because he shared his birthday with Elvis.  I would call him to tell him happy birthday and he would always reply, every year with "thank ya... thank ya very much..".  Last February, a few weeks after his birthday, I got an email from one of his friends down south.  He had left a list of people to contact just in case.  He had passed suddenly from heart failure.  The last thing he said to me was "okay... catch you later".  That was three days before the email arrived.  The silence had descended on my friend.  I will never hear "Thank ya... Thank ya very much.." from him again.

There is an upside to the silence of death though.  The upside comes with hearing new voices that with time replace the ones gone silent.  Mei, Joshua, Hayden, Conner,  Samantha and Jesse.  Emmet and Will, Andrew and Abbey and Mags and Heidi's Oscar. Jayden, Talia, and Kiki and even though I have never met her, I hear Georgia on Facebook all the time and she has a WONDERFUL giggle. New voices that are so fun to hear.

The other upside comes when the silence of death falls on me.  No longer will I hear those last words of those that I loved and miss them so much it hurts at times.  Then there is the upside for everyone else.  No longer will you have to put up with my sarcastic sayings, my dry sense of humor, or my passionate positions on political issues.  There will be no more wondering how I am doing with my mental issues. No longer will people stop when something is said and wonder "oh no, what is going to come out of Bill's mouth on this?"  The one thing that I hope for and I am very sincere in this, is that when the silence falls on me, my last words that are remembered are nice and pleasant, hopefully with a little of that dark sense of humor mixed in.  I don't know when that will be.  Dennis taught me that lesson.  We just never know.

I am going to try very hard, just in case, not to talk mean or treat anyone mean as I age.  I am going to try my best to leave everyone with at least a fond "good-bye".

THE IMPORTANCE OF GOODBYE

I have been haunted as of late by Leonard Cohen's last album before he passed away.  Cohen had a special following of fans, some of them didn't even know they were fans.  Cohen's songs were covered by many other artists who got a lot of airplay for their interpretation of his songs.  The most recent group to hit it big thanks to Leonard Cohen was a group called Pentatonix, who recorded Cohen's "Hallelujah" on their Christmas album last year even though the song has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas.  It is kind of like a group of Christian teens who decided to sing George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord" in a Youth for Christ meeting when I was young teenager.  They decided not to do it once they realized that Harrison's "Sweet Lord" was the Hare Krishna, a far cry from their Lord that they thought they were going to praise that night.   See, this is why I always say "LISTEN TO THE LYRICS PEOPLE!".  There are a lot of songs out there that actually have some philosophical meaning if you stop to actually listen to what the writer is trying to say.

Leonard Cohen's songs were like that.  His writing was usually dark and foreboding.  He seemed to always slip in some religious themes in his songs and most of the time his songs wrapped around broken or lost love, lost loved ones and the poor future of our civilization that was to come.  At the same time he was penning these dark lyrics, he was putting them to beautiful melodies.

As Cohen aged into his eighties, he set out to write a set of songs that expressed what he was feeling as he became closer to facing his own death.  The album was titled "You Want It Darker" which was also the title of the first track on the album.  His health was failing as he finished writing the songs and he recorded it a few months before he did leave this earth.  He had to sit in a chair in his apartment, which was transformed into a small sound studio, to record his final verses.  In an interview about the yet to be released album Cohen said "I am ready to die.  I am not afraid".  Cohen held a strong faith in his Jewish heritage and leaned on that faith as death neared.

I have been a Leonard Cohen fan for many years.  His dark sense of humor seemed to match mine and his pessimistic outlook in the human race seemed to mirror mine as well.  His music made an impact on me that for the most part I kept to myself.  Me and Leonard.  His was the one music I really didn't share with others.  If I could write music, I would want it to be like his.  I kept his music so much to myself, that I am not sure even my wife knew who Leonard Cohen was when I informed her in my sadness that he had died.  I spent a couple of evenings with her playing some of Cohen's tunes on YOUTUBE for her.  A few of the songs she recognized from the covers that had been recorded.  It didn't take long for her to come to appreciate the talent that this man had.

"You Want It Darker" is by far his masterpiece.  The songs are honest, spiritual and looks into the dark of night with more clarity than any songwriter I have heard.  This album has a hold on me and I listen to it often.  The words speak to me and I feel like I understand them and therefore understand Cohen.  This album was Leonard Cohen telling the world "goodbye".  I am so glad he took the time to tell us that.

As I listen to these songs my mind wanders back to those who I have loved and have gone before me.  As I age I find this album bring to mind thoughts of not only my own demise, but how many more loved ones am I going to lose before I am gone myself and don't have to face that prospect anymore.

I go back to when my great grandmother Hill died.  I loved her, I really did.  She was a tough lady that had a rough life but she fought her way through all of the setbacks and lived a long good life.  However, and looking back I am not really proud of this, but the main thing I remember about my great grandmother's death is that her funeral was to be in Springfield, Missouri on a day when I had a date with Patty Mason to go to my first school dance, and I had to cancel out.  I look back and I miss her now.  I have a few of her things that I remember from my childhood and find good memories floating through my brain of spending time with her.  I never got to tell her goodbye though and at the time it didn't bother me that I didn't have that chance.  Actually it still does not bother me much to this day.

The last time I saw my grandfather Hill, I knew inside of myself that it would be the last time I saw him.  He was heading down to Alabama to spend time with my Aunt Sue and I knew that he would not be coming back.  That night as I left, I did tell him goodbye.  I gave him a small hug which is not normal for me and maybe he was thinking what that was all about.  He did pass away on that visit to Alabama and even though I was extremely broken by his death, I was able to hold on to the fact that I was able to tell him goodbye.

I love all my Aunts and Uncles from both the fraternal and the maternal side of my family.  I am greatly blessed to have them as part of my life.  My Uncle Melvin was attacked with cancer.  He spent a lot of time in the hospital and I kept up on his condition through reports from my mother.  Uncle Melvin was special, as all my Uncles were.  As I sensed his health worsening I decided to make a visit to him.  After some of the things he did for me, covertly I might add, I felt like I wanted to see him at least one more time.  As I entered the hospital room he was in, my cousins all greeted me very warmly and led me to where my Uncle lay.  He patted his bedside indicating for me to sit and so I did.  He took my hand and told me things were going to be okay.  We talked a bit about things and then I told him I was going to miss him.  He looked me square in the eye, as Hills are taught to do, and told me he would miss me too.  I told him I loved him and as I leaned over to give him a hug he quietly said that he loved me as well.  It was not long after that when he left this world that he loved so much.  I am so glad I decided to make that visit.  Those words from my Uncle helped me to help my grandpa the day of the funeral.

My Uncle Duane was another very special uncle.  Although he had moved away to Nebraska then Colorado and I didn't get to see him much, I have many fond memories of him.  He was one of the most gentle men I ever knew and he had a knack for talking to me and showing me things.  This is one that really hurts that I didn't get to say goodbye to.  I knew he was sick, very sick.  Life kept me from making a trip to Colorado to see him though.  That was the excuse I used anyway.  I was and still am not sure if I could have handled it seeing him before he passed.  I loved him so very much.  When he did die, I beat myself up for not taking time to drive out to Colorado to see him and my aunt and two cousins.  I am still beating myself up for that slip.  Then when I think about it, it would have been extremely rough on me and chances are he wouldn't know who I was anyway, which would make it hurt even more.  Maybe it is best for both of us that I didn't make that trip.  I just am not sure.

My Uncle Dan and Aunt June were also very special.  June was married to Dan's brother, my Uncle Jack.  When Dan got cancer, we made a bond that we would fight this thing together and we did.  I saw him everyday and my wife would spend the night at his house to take care of him.  During this time, my Aunt June was also very ill and it was obvious that she was getting worse.  In spite of that, she traveled with my Uncle Jack from St Louis to Kansas City every other weekend to help take care of Dan.  Every weekend when they headed back to St. Louis, I would give her a hug and tell her goodbye as I did with my Uncle Jack.  But my goodbyes to my Aunt June held a lot more meaning.  I wanted to be sure that she knew I appreciated and loved her and considered myself lucky to have her for an Aunt.  Dan's cancer eventually took him to the point of where I had to take him to the hospice house.  The pain he was in was at a point of being more than I could help him with.  I stayed in hospice with him for a week, never leaving him as I had promised.  Each time I left the room though, I would tell him goodbye and let him know I would be right back.  I was able to whisper an almost silent goodbye the night he died.  At his funeral, as I was leaving his house I made a special effort to be sure and tell my Aunt June goodbye.  There would be no more bi-weekly weekend visits from her now.  I am so glad I did tell her that.

Then there was my sister Carol.  Carol had come up to help me take care of mom and dad during the summer when she was diagnosed with cancer.  She was determined to fight it as hard as she could, if anything just so she could get back to Georgia where her home was and her grandkids.  The two of us, along with my faux sister Karen, decided that we would get her well enough to get back home.  We succeeded.  As she and my sister Elaine left to head back south, I was able to give Carol a huge hug a big I love you and a kiss on her forehead.  We each said we would see each other the next summer when she came back.  She never came back to Kansas City though.  The next spring the cancer returned and raced through Carol's body.  The goodbye I had with Carol was one I would not trade for the world.

Then there is the loved one passing that comes out of the blue, totally out of nowhere.  This happened to me last February when one of my friends died.  Dennis was healthy.  He took care of himself.  He ate right.  He was active.  He also had a damaged heart from a heart attack several years ago.  That heart quit working that day in February.  I had not told him good bye.  I didn't have the chance to.  We had planned on meeting up in Mississippi later on this spring when I was planning to visit Alabama.  I had talked to him the day after his birthday in January.  No goodbye.  We never said goodbye to each other.  It was always "Take it easy, see ya later".  With Den though, there wasn't a later.  He was here one day and the next day, just gone.

I didn't go through all of the goodbyes I said or didn't say.  I use these few as examples of how my mind works when dealing with these situations.

So now for today.  I am 60 now and in what I have come to realize is the "window of death".  It seems like once a person gets pass 60 years old, all bets are off.  My parents moved to Alabama last fall so that my sister could take care of them while I try to take care of my wife.  My brother is in South Dakota, my sister, as mentioned, is in Alabama as well as my Aunt Sue.  My aunt Eva is the closest on the Hill side living in Clinton, Missouri while my Uncle Jack still can't pull himself from St.Louis.  He likes it there for some odd reason.  Aunt Velma is in Colorado while my Aunt Fay is in western Kansas.  My Uncle Jim, well I think he is in Warrensburg, Missouri, not too far away.  I do still have my Aunt Norva and Uncle Dale living here in Kansas City but I do not get out to see them much.

The question that hits me as I listen to Leonard Cohen's last album goes like this.  "Is it better to say be able to say good bye to loved ones or easier not to."  I don't know.  I sincerely just don't know.

It kind of feels like my good byes may be finished no matter what the answer may be.

It is starting to get a little lonely around Kansas City.

THE BRAVE, THE DETERMINED AND THE STRONG

I am tired of losing friends and family to illnesses.  It seems that when they leave this earth it is always much to soon.  It doesn't really matter how old they are when they pass from here, it is still too soon.  The last time I saw my Grandfather, I knew it would be the last time I would see him.  He and my grandmother were leaving to visit my aunt in Alabama.  Even though deep inside I knew that I would not see him again, when my mother knocked on my door late one night and told me that he had died, I was thrown into a state of shock and terrible grief.  I have come to believe that the night he died was the night I started a long deep slip into depression that stays with me still.

I have written about Alesia in this blog before.  She died of heart failure when she was just fourteen.  I had known her since she was born as I had worked with and played ball with her dad her whole life.  She had just been declared healthy and had been told that she could live a normal life when her life suddenly ended without warning one evening.  Other teens that I have known have had their lives taken much too early.  Their parents are devastated and even though the grief is strong and will stay with them always, those parents seem to find strength to get up everyday and live as much of a life as they can carrying that pain inside of them every minute of everyday.

I am tired of losing people to heart disease, mental disease, respiratory disease and a host of other sicknesses.  The one disease that I really am tired of though is cancer.  There are so many different kinds of cancer and none seem to have a cure.  Cancer is to me the cruelest of the killers.

There is one thing I have noticed of all the people I knew who died of cancer.  Cancer patients always seem to dig deep and face it with strength and bravery.  I visited my Uncle Melvin in the hospital a couple of weeks before cancer took him from us.  Thinking back he was probably the first person who I was close to that I knew was dying from cancer.  I walked in and he smiled at me.  He held my hand and it seemed that he was comforting me and I needed to be comforted.  He was ready, he was prepared.  No he did not want to leave, but at this point he had come to accept it and was facing it with incredible strength.  None of us knows what was going on inside his mind, but on the outside he was facing the prospect of his life ending and letting all of us know it was okay.

I have written about Rachel here as well.  Rachel was an incredible person.  She had a brain tumor when she was very small and it seemed that she had beat it.  Then one Christmas, the symptoms began to show up again when she had grown into a beautiful young lady.  Rachel kept going as long as she could.  She never gave up.  Always had a warm smile on her face even though she could feel herself slowly slipping away.  She never stopped living her life until that New Years Eve when her life passed from this one to the next one.  She was an inspiration to me and to many others.  I think I can safely say that Rachel will live on in memories and stories that will be passed down from generation to generation.

I had that conversation with my Uncle Dan after he was diagnosed with cancer and it became clear that his cancer would not be slowed or healed.  We talked about "after he was gone" and how he will cease to exist.  I knew that life goes past this life.  Not only with the spirit leaving his body but his life would continue in the memories of those that knew him.  Stories are relayed of Dan and his brothers, Melvin and Buster. who have also passed and through those tales they continue to live on.  Dan faced his cancer with that strength that comes from deep down inside.  He lived his life until he could not anymore.  We went and did things knowing in our hearts that it would be the last time for doing such things.  He went to the theatre one last time and even though he told me it felt sad to be there, he enjoyed it.  He was in his element that night even if it would be the last time.

I have witnessed others who have succumbed to cancer who were co-workers of mine.  Jim, Lera, Paul,  all were younger than me when they passed.  But they not only faced the disease with strength and bravery, but they fought it as well as they could.

Now I look around and see friends that are fighting the fight against cancer.  My cousins have just learned that their step father has a fast growing brain tumor that is untreatable and his time is very limited.  From what my cousins tell though, he is another brave and strong man who is taking it in stride and will live life until he can't anymore.

My brother had bladder cancer and it looks as though he has fought it off successfully.  My wife had uterus cancer and they were able to operate on her and so far it has not returned, but she faced that surgery with strength and bravery.  My cousin Ellen and my Uncle Jack have faced cancer and defeated it with strength and determination.  So cancer is not a death notice by far.  They are making progress it seems.  But without the determination of those who have the disease, we wouldn't stand a chance.  You can not beat cancer unless you fight it with everything you got.

Probably one of the strongest and bravest people I have ever known with cancer is a lady who attends Barb's church.  Yvonne has had cancer as long as I have known her it seems.  She has had tremendous faith that has given her the strength to keep fighting and fighting with a good attitude.  Of course I don't know what goes on inside her head as she continues her fight, but continue to fight she does.  She always has time to look out for problems others are having and offering support and strength to them.  My wife is having heart problems that seem to get worse everytime she sees a doctor and Yvonne always has a word of encouragement.  Yvonne is as good as an example of what faith will do for us when faced with difficult times.  I am so thankful I have the privileged knowing her.

Now my sister has cancer.  I was lucky enough to be able to help take care of her for a few months before she went home to Georgia.  From the time it became clear that this was not going to be an easy cancer to beat, my sister has been determined to fight it, and she has.  Her faith never waivers.  She keeps a good outlook and does what she has to do to fight it.  She shows much the same strength, determination and bravery that Yvonne has shown all these years.  To me it is incredible.  I don't think I could have the strength or determination that Yvonne and Carol have.  I am pretty sure I wouldn't.

All of these people have shown what it is to be strong and brave.  They have set an example for others who are ill or feel lost in life.  They have shown what it means to live.  Rachel, Alesia, My uncles, my Aunt June and my sister and Yvonne.   I am thankful to know these people who have set an example of what it is to live life to it's fullest.

One day we will find out how to beat cancer.  The sooner the better.

ROBIN WILLIAMS - DEPRESSION

I didn't think I would be writing another entry here this soon but I feel I have to after learning of Robin Williams alleged suicide last night.

A lot of people think they deal with depression.  Chances are you don't.  Depression, and mental illness in general, is too often misunderstood and pushed aside.  Depression is one of the worst kind of mental illness.  It is dangerous.  I don't know what Mr. Williams was going through, all I can do is relate what depression is to me.  What true clinical depression is.

I have read people who have written that they have been there ... once in a while.  Once in a while.  Depression does not leave you.  You learn to live with it.  You learn to hide it because people will not understand and will tell you that it will pass, things will get better, pull yourself out of it.  Depression does not heed those words, it doesn't even hear those words.  Depression stays.

Depression stays and drags you down.  Drags you down deep until you don't think you can go any deeper/  It is indeed a dark place but unlike any darkness you have ever known.  You feel totally alone and in a way you are, because nobody knows where you are in that darkness.  They don't see that darkness and so you continue down the road of what they call life all alone and so sad.

Depression grabs a hold of you and won't let go.  There are medicines that can help ease the grip but they don't make the depression go away.  After spending a certain amount of time in this darkness, and getting dragged down as low as you can be dragged, a strange thing begins to happen and this is when depression becomes dangerous.

You get so use to being alone.  You are alone even in a crowd of people.  You are alone even with a group of people who know you well, and care about you, you are alone in your family and they don't have a clue what is going through you mind, what this depression is putting in your mind.  Then things start to change in a way.  The depression starts to bring thoughts into your head and convinces you that these thoughts are logical.  Taking your life is logical.  It makes sense.  It is the right thing to do for everybody around you.

Sometimes it is SO logical you actually think that your friends and family will understand that you did the right thing.  You did what you had to do and they will be happy for you.  This is the danger of depression.  You make plans, you chart out a timeline, and you make preparations to do what is the logical thing to do.

Confusion starts to creep into your head but the depression allows you to justify your thinking.  All of a sudden you feel like you are getting better when in reality, the depression is pulling you down ... down to the end and you think you are right and everyone else isn't thinking the right way, they aren't thinking logically the way you are.

Then, if you are lucky and people pick up on subtle signals that the depression has got you and you have given in to it, they stop you and they put you away.  They lock you up to keep yourself from harming yourself or others until you can get out of the feeling better stage of logic and are brought back up to the level of knowing you were wrong and you find yourself once again in that lonely dark place trying not to fall back into the logical part of depression ... or the part of depression that makes you think you are being logical.

You begin again to fight the depression and you begin to be alone and you start to hide it once again but it is always with you.  You fight to go on, but every single day, EVERY SINGLE DAY you wake up to start the fight anew. and when the day is over and you have survived once again, you fall into a sleep that isn't too restful because you know you have to wage the fight once again the next day.

THAT is depression.  Depression isn't feeling low or blue for a few days or even a week or month.  Depression is there always.  Depression becomes a constant companion and for some that suffer from this horrible disease, depression will win and the logic of taking your own life will take over and no one else will see it coming.  Then the people you know will be dismayed and shocked while all the time, you were doing the right and logical thing.

I know.  I have depression.  I have depression every single day.  IT may ease up at times, but it is always there.

Everytime somebody famous, like Robin Williams, take their own life, people say how horrible depression is.  Unless you live in that darkness, you don't have a clue.

I know.  I have been there.  I am still there.  And I will be fighting my constant companion until the day I die.

Rest in Peace Mr. Williams.  You fought a battle that in many ways is un-winnable.