Forever

I know my marriage vows said "'Til death do we part," however, I took that to mean...forever.
Sure, I know there is no marriage in Heaven. That doesn't mean there ain't no special connection between wives and husbands. How could there not be?
Just as there are special connections between friends or relatives we love.

Of course, I could be wrong, but I don't think so. It's not like the bond we form with our wife or husband simply disappear after the death of our bodies.
It will be different in Heaven, of that I am certain, but it will be better than anyone can imagine, and I can imagine a lot, so it's gonna be awesome sauce all the timelessness.

You know, sometimes I try to imagine 'better than I can imagine.' Perhaps it's pointless to do that, but since love and Heaven are good things I would like to think it isn't pointless at all, as long as I don't get obsessed with it.
The bonds of friendship n' love are truly liberating.
I know it liberates me from utter despair n' hopelessness.

Bridge

Bobby Ingram, a member of Molly Hatchet wrote this song after his wife died.
I can relate to the lyrics he wrote.

Some people never find the love of a lifetime. I am so thankful that I did.

Gotta hold on, you gno?

Faith gives me the chance, so I gotta take it.

Don't You Take It Lying Down

No! No!

Hold on, hold on tight,
I'll make everything alright,
Wake Up! Don't go to sleeep,
I pray the Lord your soul to keeep...

Suicide.
From what I have read nearly everyone has thought about it at some point or times in their life.
Thankfully, relatively few people actually act on those thoughts.

There was only one time I ever began to act on it. It was after my ill-conceived idea to get married.
This was before I met Patti. I had fallen in what I thought was love (lust, actually) with a barmaid in Long Beach, CA.

Everything was goin' great, or so I thought. My fiancé seemed to love me. I can still recall the look on her face when I asked her to marry me.
A look of surprise and joy. And here I was worried about bein' rejected.

First of all, sorry it's taken me so long to write about the conclusion of this story. It was just too painful and embarrassing to do so before now.
Well, partly.
The other reason is because I didn't want Patti to read it. I knew if she did it would cause her pain.
And I already had caused her more pain than anyone should hafta endure.

I had gotten a rare half day off and decided to surprise my fiancé. I didn't have a copy of her apartment key so I knocked on the door.

And a guy with a towel wrapped around his waist opened the door. Behind him I could see my fiancé in bed with another guy.

"What the hell?" I said, trying' to make sense of what I was seeing.

She got up out of bed, naked and walked to the door.

"It's okay Mark, I'll just be a minute. Why don't you pour us some more wine?" She said, nonchalantly.

It seemed so surreal. It was as if I was facing a completely different woman than the one I asked to marry me.

"I thought you were working all day," she said, glaring at me.

Is she for real? I wondered. Is this real?

"What the f#ck is goin' on?" I asked.

"Exactly," she said, smiling.

"What?" I asked, exasperated and not a little bit hurt.

"I don't think we should get married. You want to join in?" She asked, leering at me.

Is she demon possessed or something? I wondered.

I wasn't gettin' the love vibe anymore. The complete opposite, as a matter of fact. More like an evil vibe. And apparently, she wanted me to join in the evil. Revel in it, I reckon.

"Are you...are you se..serious?" I stuttered.

I used to have a stuttering problem when I was younger, but I had mostly conquered that problem by the time I had entered junior high school. Right after I began fightin' back against bullies.
But it was returning now, and that made me feel more insecure, vulnerable and, I dunno, like an idiot.

"Y-yes, I-I'm se-serious," she mocked, smiling that evil smile.

I didn't reply. I couldn't. I just had to get outta there. I walk quickly, almost running, to the sounds of laughter, from her and those other guys.

I don't know how long I walked, but before I realized it, darkness had fallen to match the darkness I felt on the inside.

Figures, I thought, anger rushing up inside and just itchin' to burst out.

I surveyed my surroundings and concluded I was in a bad side of town. I didn't care. Probably a good thing no one attacked me in the state I was in.

Then I directed that anger at myself.

You! Stupid! F#cking! Idiot! I screamed in my mind.

I went on like that for awhile and started walking' again. It was a damn good tirade if I don't say so.
I needed to smash somethin' and that somethin' was me!

Of course, smashing' myself wasn't very feasible so I did the next best thing.
I ducked into an alley, almost pitch black. A blackness than was encompassing my very soul. Utter darkness.

I reached into my pocket and got out my buck knife. I looked at my arms, wondering if I could really do it.
Do I have the guts? I thought. But it wasn't just my thought. It was alien. But I didn't care, did I?

I stuck my knife into the outside of my forearm, about a half inch deep and I cut about an inch across.
It hurt but not all that much. Blood came pouring out like the darkness in my soul.
I made another cut, a bit smaller this time. Then I started to cut my stomach, just a small stick, actually. I applied more force but it was tougher than I thought.

My stomach muscles are really more pliable than I thought, I thought, applying even more force.
The knife went in a bit more.

Then I pulled it out. Only a small wound remain, blood oozing out. I looked at the blood for awhile. It was dark but I could see the blood...black blood enveloping my arm and part of my stomach area.

It was then I broke down and tears flowed, but they weren't black like the blood. And somehow, that angered me again.
Enough to begin another tirade at myself.

You f#ckin' coward! I thought. You don't have the guts to do it!

This went on for awhile until I finally realized I wasn't a coward for takin' the easy way out.
I choose the hard way, I resolved. Because...f#ck it! Who cares? I just am!

Occasionally I still get a thought, rarely of committing suicide, but I am now strong enough to never act on it, and to obliterate those thoughts once again and nail 'em to the Cross!
And pray and contemplate my many blessings...

Yeah, life can be painful. So what? I'm thinking'. Am I gonna give up? Be a selfish loser?
Or am I gonna smash somethin'. Somethin' dark?
Ben Smash puny darkness! God smash puny darkness!!!

Okay, so I Hulk out every once in awhile. Holy Hulk out. I gotta be stronger than the darkness.
I Am stronger than the darkness.

Because He lives within' me.
And there ain't no darkness too evil for Him and for me to smash!!!

Have A Very Merry Christmas!

I was plannin on mopin' around for Christmas. It would be so easy. Just wallow around, feel sorry for being All By Myself like Eric Carmen, but not as rich. Cry in my Christmas beer. Well, not actually IN the beer, that would be gross.
Whine in my Christmas wine.
Okay, scratch the whinin' I'm not a whino.

You get where I'm coming from, right? It's the first Christmas after...
Without...her.
Without...my love.
Without...a really good punch-line.

However, a funny thing happened as I was plannin' how I could maximize my mopiness (that's mopyness, not mop...you know what I mean).
I realized this would be the last thing she would want for me to do.
Well, maybe not the last thing. There are worse things than monopolizing mopyness, afterall. Let's not blow this thing out of proportion.

Where was I? Oh yeah, a funny thing happened. No wait, after that. I realized sure as she was sayin' it to me herself that Patti would not want me mopynizin' on Christmas.

Patti loved Christmas. It was her favorite Holiday of the year. Not because of gifts, at least not material ones, but because of the real meaning of Christmas:
Hark The Herald Angels Sing, Glory To The Newborn King! The Christ the King!
Made sense, since Jesus is the greatest gift of all.

Patti loved Christmas songs as well. And all the good Christmas shows. Decorating the house and making everything brighter and more beautiful.
Cooking and spending time together. Talking to the kids when they couldn't be here. Driving around at night to see the Christmas lights some folks put up.

When we would say grace at Christmas dinner she would thank our Lord for our children, for all His blessings upon us, and even for me.
She made me feel special, but in a good way.

On our first Christmas together, which was the second year we were married because I was on a WestPac deployment during what would've been our first Christmas, I recall the look of bewilderment on Patti's face when she opened up a gift I had gotten her.
It was dishwashing gloves.

Guys, never give cleaning supplies as gifts to your wife. They don't count. Seriously.

But rather than get angry about my snafuey faux pas Patti laughed about it, and would continue to laugh about it whenever she remembered it.
Of course, funny as it was I never repeated that snafuey faux pas. Well, not that particular one anyways.

One of Patti's favorite parts of Christmas was seeing the joy on our daughters faces when they opened their gifts, and spending time with them, doing stuff with them, and me.

During our first few years of marriage, when money was more scarce than Bigfoot in the Mojave desert, Patti's joy around Christmas was no less, because it was never about material things, it was about God and family.

Patti brought more joy to Christmas, no doubt about it.
And she still does.

Merry Christmas Patti and thank you!
And Merry Christmas to you guys! I hope you don't consider me presumptious in thinking that you all are family to me.

Dog Roll-Foo

A not very long time ago, in a living room far, far away, or close by, depending on where you are located, Little Miss noticed a disturbance in the force.

I knew it, she thought, it's Mothra! I must warn Obi-Ben Obi!

I wonder what obi means, Skully, Little Miss's big brother from another mother thought.

"Bark bark, growl, bark!" Little Miss said.

"What is it girl? Did Timmy fall in the well again?" I asked.

Who in the hell is this Timmy he keeps going on about? Little Miss wondered. And what's a well?

"Bark roof! Bark! Grrr!" Little Miss explained.

I looked to where she was looking and a giant moth was flying around, it's wings battering the air with such force it almost blew me over.

Damn, that's a huge moth," I exclaimed. "Get it girl!"

Little Miss sprang into action. She jumped and jumped, barking at Mothra the entire time. Skully joined in occasionally, but soon got bored and decided to watch the show instead.

Mothra charged Little Miss, which was a tactical error because Little Miss caught one of it's wings and brought it down.
A wild battle ensued. But Mothra was no match for the dog roll-foo that Little Miss had perfected.

Dog Roll-Foo, caught on film!

More Dog Roll-Foo. Just in case.

After capturing Little Miss's Dog Roll-Foo technique on my phone, I went to get get Mothra before Little Miss ground it into the rug.
Seeing me approach, Little Miss quickly ate Mothra.

"Okay, that will work too," I said. "Good girl! You saved the dojo!"

I wonder what a dojo is? Skully wondered before Little Miss, amped up from the battle with Mothra decided to play dogs of war with Skully.

What the? Skully thought. Why you little...

And it was on. Until Skully got bored and played dead.
When that didn't work he hid behind me and pleaded, with puppy dog eyes for me to make Little Miss stop.

That's Skully's secret power, puppy dog eyes.

So I created a diversion with the one thing that could stop Little Miss. Her one weakness. Her kryptonite.

"Who wants a snack?" I asked.

Little Miss is no match for snack-foo.

Dreams Come True

Recently I found out the results of Patti's blood test. According to the results the cause of death was heart failure due to a combination of heart disease and high blood pressure and diabetes. I had to look it up except for the diabetes because it was in medical language.

Patti was being seen for all three conditions but there was no indication death was imminent. She was in the early stages of heart disease and was taking meds to control the high blood pressure and taking insulin to control her blood sugar.
She had a good doctor and saw several specialists the last few years so I doubt they missed anything.

It was her time to go be with God.

I am grateful to know what caused Patti to pass on. The physical aspect that is. I was resigned to the fact that I may never know, because that does happen. Still, it's a relief to know and I thank God.

I have had several dreams in which Patti has appeared. Some are even comical in a sense, because in the dreams I am wondering how to tell her she had died without appearing insane because it seems she doesn't know she died and she acts as if nothing had happened.
The first thing she mentions is what a mess the house is.

I mean, it's pretty much clean, and I keep up with washing the dishes and doing laundry (most the time), but it is cluttered. And I tend to procrastinate a lot, although I finally got the truck winter ready. I needed new brakes, a tuneup and an oil change. Thankfully, the tires are still good.

So anyways I'm trying' to find the right time in the dreams to tell Patti the news as she lectures me about keeping the house as ship shape as she did which causes me to smile.
Then she asks me what is so funny and I'm at a loss for words.

If I tell her she died will it hurt her feelings?

Now I'm thinking maybe I'm procrastinating on purpose. My subconscious that is, so I'll see her more.
Except now I consciously know.
But yeah, I'll still keep doin' it if it means Patti will show up in my dreams.

Above N' Beyond

Good to be home. So WTH happened? Well, this is kinda embarassing but here goes:

I was sprain some waterproof spray on my cowboy boots, this bein' the rainy season n' all. Everything was join' great 'til the heater clicked on.
See, I have one of those floor heaters that blow hot air out.

Now, I thought I was bein' careful. I read the warning label on the spray can. No sweat.
But the heater had other ideas, no doubt inspired by Murphy, of Murphy's Law fame.
The air blew as I was sprain' and as I felt the spray hit my face I automatically closed my eyes, which is a good thing cuz this stuff can really do a number on eyeballs.

However, I forgot to stop breathing' or wasn't fast enough and I got a good whiff.
Nothin' happened. Or so I thought.

Two hours later, Murphy's Law went into effect and I started coughing' so much I could barely catch my breath.
This wasn't like any cough I ever had. this went on for a few minutes and then stopped. But I could tell by trying' that I couldn't take a normal or deep breath without setting the coughing' fits.

So I breathed more shallowy. "Okay, no problem. This will heal on it's own, right?"
I got no answer. I felt a foreboding. I inhaled this stuff over two hours ago. Was it too late to go to the ER?
But like a fool I weathered it out.

Throughout the night I would have these coughing' fits then they would go away.
More foreboding filled my mind.

"okaaay...I'll get some sleep and hopefully, this will be gone by morning'."

0500, I awoke to the most violenty coughing' fit yet. It just wouldn't stop and I felt myself getting' weaker by the second. It felt like I was gonna die.

"Dammit! I'm a fool!" I thought, cuz I sure couldn't speak very well.
So I called 911 and managed, after awhile and with extreme focus to tell the 911 guy the who, where, what stuff.

Then I waited, and tried to remain calm...and prayed.
19 minutes later the ambulance arrived and my coughing' fit subsided.
"Oh great, now these guys will think I'm a hypochondriac or a nut."

I met the EMT's on my porch so the dogs couldn't run out and explained to them what happened.
One EMT guy advised me to go to the ER to make sure I was okay, but it was up to me if I wanted to stay home.
I didn't hafta think about it, I chose the ER.

I never rode in an ambulance so it was kinda cool. Although I didn't like vein' strapped down, but I let it slide.
When I got to the ER I explained again what had happened and I had brought the can so the ER docs would have more to work with.

They gave me a nebulizer treatment and steroids and I felt a lot better. About 80% better.
When my blood test came back it indicated I had an infection, perhaps unrelated to the spray. So they gave me some heavy duty antibiotics just to make sure.

Around 1130 a VA ambulance arrived and I was transferred to the Seattle VA. I didn't wanna go there but I didn't want more to pay for everything, so off I went.
it's really weird to see everything from the back of an ambulance.
Both the lady EMTS were really nice kids, around the age of my daughters.

So we got to Seattle VA and I was taken to the second floor, put into a room, where they tok more blood.
I was getting' a bit down when three beautiful lady doctors arrived to inform me they would be my doctors.
They were all very nice and humorous ladies.
I immediately felt remarkably better about the Seattle VA.

When the blood tests came back one of the beautiful, lady docs arrived to tell me my white cell count had gone down. Her theory was my white blood cells had reacted to my lungs vein' irritated by the spray, but to be sure she ordered another blood test the following morning'.
My x-ray had shown my lungs were clear and had no permanent damage.

Later that evenin'beautiful Doc 2 arrived to check on me, and to tell me she concurred with beautiful Doc 1 about my diagnosis.

Later still my nurse, Joe, asked me a bunch of questions they are required to ask. Am I suicidal? No.
Am I homicidal? Not yet.
How much do I drink? Good thing Skully ain't here, I thought.
Do i get depressed? "Aye, I get depressed sometimes. I was depressed when my wife passed away, but I'm okay now," I replied.

Joe offered a heartfelt condolence (I could tell) and I thanked him.
He asked me more questions, but to my relief he didn't ask if I had any guns.

Still later on I got a new nurse as the shift changed.
She was a very nice lady, looked to be Phillipino.
"I heard about your wife's passing and I'm very sorry," she said.

"Thank you, I replied, taken aback somewhat that Joe spilled the bean, but that didn't bother me.

She said a book helped her when she lost her husband and thought it could help me if I was interested.
She also had searched online for an excerpt from the book and printed it out for me to read.
I felt touched by her kindness and fought away some tears that were trying' to make a break for it. But a few escaped.

"Thank you," I managed to say.

"I hope this will help you," she replied, and left the room.

The next mornin' a different Beautiful Doc 3 arrived to tell me the good news. The third blood test showed that my white blood cells were back to normal. They were probably bummed out that there was nothin' to fight and whined about another drill.
I could go home, with the stern instruction from beautiful Doc 3 to go to the ER immediately if the coughing' resumed, or if I have any other symptoms, like coughing' up blood or pain in my lungs.

A bit later Beautiful Docs 1 and 2 arrived to wish me farewell, and to see if I had any questions. I thanked them for helping' me get better.
They also expressed their condolences at Patti's passing.
I thanked them again.

The EMT's, Docs, Nurses, janitor, everyone I met at Providence and the Seattle VA went above n' beyond their normal duties and I can't praise them enough for helping' me out. They were all great kids, close or right on to my daughter's ages.
They give me a renewed hope that their generation just might turn out to be good. Regardless, they were good.

That goes for you guys too!
Thank you for your prayers and kind words. I don't feel alone any longer and I feel good known' I can call y'all friends, brothers and sisters.
You truly have gone above n' beyond to help me, and I can't thank you enough (if I tried you might think I'm stalking you).

And a big thank you to Phil, my Guardian Angel! He's really rackin' up the OT, and I hope he get's a big reward when it's my time to go.
The Angelic Medal of Honor. Phil deserves it. He must be a special forces Guardian Angel because I can't imagine how hard it would be to be my Guardian Angel.

And thank you Lord Father for hearing our prayers and answering them. I feel humbled, honored, and most of all...Loved.