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From: rf on 22 Dec 2007 11:47
My name is Robert and I am also new to the group. Forgive me if I ramble but
I have to get this out or I will go crazy.

My wife Lola (11/8/1965 - 11/24/2007) died suddenly and unexpectedly from
undiagnosed cardiac disease 2 days after Thanksgiving and 16 days after her
42nd birthday. We where high school sweethearts who meet in 1979 and got
married in January 1984 - just short of 24 years.

It just does not seem real. We were so young and in love then as we were
when she passed away. We had been through so much hardship together and
Lola and I often only had each other to lean on, depend on, comfort and
support each other. I would always hold her and tell her 'it's ok, it will
be alright. We've always found a way.' and she would do that for me. And
now that's gone. My heart hurts and I feel so lost and alone.

What makes it worse is that it is a double loss for me, for us. We had been
trying so hard to have children since 1999. We tried for 4 long years -
specialist, shots, and evasive procedures. Nothing worked. After that we
talked about whether we wanted to still have children and what our options
where - surrogate, adoption, etc. After a year we decided we really wanted
at least one child and decided to adopt. In the interim we lost almost all
nest egg and Lola lost her job in one fell swoop - she worked for Enron. But
we are committed and determined to be parents.

We were waiting for our home study when she passed away. A few weeks later
I let the adoption agency know what happened to Lola. I thought that after a
year I could continue our dream of having a child and I would still be our
child in a way since we started the process together. to my shock and
amazement I was told that I would probably NOT be a good candidate for
adoption unless I chose the 'foster care-to-adopt' program which are
children usually over seven and coming from households they had to be
removed from with no guarantees that would not go back to their parents or
other family members.

I was crushed, devastated and heartbroken. I lost my beautiful wife and our
child. We both wanted to be parents more than anything. Where is the justice
in this? We paid our dues. We went through the ringer more than once.

And now Christmas is here - her favorite holiday. Oh how she loved to
decorate the inside of our house and supervise me as I did the outside <g> .
and the weekend after Thanksgiving we would go out and by our Christmas
tree - just as we planned to do the day my world came crashing down.

Christmas Eve will be the worst - that was our Christmas. Our time together,
before family and friends.

I can't stop thinking about Lola. I can't stop crying, I can't sleep, I
can't
eat. I hurt so much and the pain won't go away. I'm numb. I miss her and my
heart and head are heavy..

Why did such a kind, loving, passionate and compassionate woman have to
leave so young? We always thought we would grow old together and see our
grandchildren playing in our front yard while we watched from porch swing.



From: Michelle la Belle on 22 Dec 2007 15:32
On Dec 22, 11:47 am, "rf" <Drui...(a)Hotmail.com> wrote:
> My name is Robert and I am also new to the group. Forgive me if I ramble but
> I have to get this out or I will go crazy.
>
> My wife Lola (11/8/1965 - 11/24/2007) died suddenly and unexpectedly from
> undiagnosed cardiac disease 2 days after Thanksgiving and 16 days after her
> 42nd birthday.   We where high school sweethearts who meet in 1979 and got
> married in January 1984 - just short of 24 years.
>
> It just does not seem real. We were so young and in love then as we were
> when she passed away.  We had been through so much hardship together and
> Lola and I often only had each other to lean on, depend on, comfort and
> support each other. I would always hold her and tell her 'it's ok, it will
> be alright. We've always found a way.' and she would do that for me.  And
> now that's gone. My heart hurts and I feel so lost and alone.
>
> What makes it worse is that it is a double loss for me, for us.  We had been
> trying so hard to have children since 1999. We tried for 4 long years -
> specialist, shots, and evasive procedures. Nothing worked. After that we
> talked about whether we wanted to still have children and what our options
> where - surrogate, adoption, etc. After a year we decided we really wanted
> at least one child and decided to adopt. In the interim we lost almost all
> nest egg and Lola lost her job in one fell swoop - she worked for Enron. But
> we are committed and determined to be parents.
>
> We were waiting for our home study when she passed away.  A few weeks later
> I let the adoption agency know what happened to Lola. I thought that after a
> year I could continue our dream of having a child and I would still be our
> child in a way since we started the process together.   to my shock and
> amazement I was told that I would probably NOT be a good candidate for
> adoption unless I chose the 'foster care-to-adopt' program which are
> children usually over seven and coming from households they had to be
> removed from with no guarantees that would not go back to their parents or
> other family members.
>
> I was crushed, devastated and heartbroken.  I lost my beautiful wife and our
> child. We both wanted to be parents more than anything. Where is the justice
> in this? We paid our dues. We went through the ringer more than once.
>
> And now Christmas is here - her favorite holiday. Oh how she loved to
> decorate the inside of our house and supervise me as I did the outside <g> .
> and the weekend after Thanksgiving we would go out and by our Christmas
> tree - just as we planned to do the day my world came crashing down.
>
> Christmas Eve will be the worst - that was our Christmas. Our time together,
> before family and friends.
>
> I can't stop thinking about Lola. I can't stop crying, I can't sleep, I
> can't
> eat. I hurt so much and the pain won't go away. I'm numb. I miss her and my
> heart and head are heavy..
>
> Why did such a kind, loving, passionate and compassionate woman have to
> leave so young?  We always thought we would grow old together and see our
> grandchildren playing in our front yard while we watched from porch swing.

Hello Robert,
I am so sorry for your loss.
Feel free to post all you want.
Take care of yourself.
From: Noon Cat Nick on 23 Dec 2007 02:11
rf wrote:
> My name is Robert and I am also new to the group. Forgive me if I ramble but
> I have to get this out or I will go crazy.
>
> My wife Lola (11/8/1965 - 11/24/2007) died suddenly and unexpectedly from
> undiagnosed cardiac disease 2 days after Thanksgiving and 16 days after her
> 42nd birthday. We where high school sweethearts who meet in 1979 and got
> married in January 1984 - just short of 24 years.
>
> It just does not seem real. We were so young and in love then as we were
> when she passed away. We had been through so much hardship together and
> Lola and I often only had each other to lean on, depend on, comfort and
> support each other. I would always hold her and tell her 'it's ok, it will
> be alright. We've always found a way.' and she would do that for me. And
> now that's gone. My heart hurts and I feel so lost and alone.
>
> What makes it worse is that it is a double loss for me, for us. We had been
> trying so hard to have children since 1999. We tried for 4 long years -
> specialist, shots, and evasive procedures. Nothing worked. After that we
> talked about whether we wanted to still have children and what our options
> where - surrogate, adoption, etc. After a year we decided we really wanted
> at least one child and decided to adopt. In the interim we lost almost all
> nest egg and Lola lost her job in one fell swoop - she worked for Enron. But
> we are committed and determined to be parents.
>
> We were waiting for our home study when she passed away. A few weeks later
> I let the adoption agency know what happened to Lola. I thought that after a
> year I could continue our dream of having a child and I would still be our
> child in a way since we started the process together. to my shock and
> amazement I was told that I would probably NOT be a good candidate for
> adoption unless I chose the 'foster care-to-adopt' program which are
> children usually over seven and coming from households they had to be
> removed from with no guarantees that would not go back to their parents or
> other family members.
>
> I was crushed, devastated and heartbroken. I lost my beautiful wife and our
> child. We both wanted to be parents more than anything. Where is the justice
> in this? We paid our dues. We went through the ringer more than once.
>
> And now Christmas is here - her favorite holiday. Oh how she loved to
> decorate the inside of our house and supervise me as I did the outside <g> .
> and the weekend after Thanksgiving we would go out and by our Christmas
> tree - just as we planned to do the day my world came crashing down.
>
> Christmas Eve will be the worst - that was our Christmas. Our time together,
> before family and friends.
>
> I can't stop thinking about Lola. I can't stop crying, I can't sleep, I
> can't
> eat. I hurt so much and the pain won't go away. I'm numb. I miss her and my
> heart and head are heavy..
>
> Why did such a kind, loving, passionate and compassionate woman have to
> leave so young? We always thought we would grow old together and see our
> grandchildren playing in our front yard while we watched from porch swing.
>
>
>

With you a part of me hath passed away;
For in the peopled forest of my mind
A tree made leafless by this wintry wind
Shall never don again its green array.
Chapel and fireside, country road and bay,
Have something of their friendliness resigned;
Another, if I would, I could not find,
And I am grown much older in a day.
But yet I treasure in my memory
Your gift of charity, and young hearts ease,
And the dear honour of your amity;
For these once mine, my life is rich with these.
And I scarce know which part may greater be,--
What I keep of you, or you rob from me.

--George Santayana

* * * * * * * * *

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,--
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

--Edna St. Vincent Millay

* * * * * * * * *

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,
Shaped to the comfort of the last to go
As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no heart to put aside the theft

And turn again to what it started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
Long fallen wide. You can see how it was:
Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the piano stool. That vase.

--Philip Larkin

* * * * * * * * *

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss her in the weeping of the rain;
I want her at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go--so with her memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell her foot or shone her face
I say, "There is no memory of her here!"
And so stand stricken, so remembering her.

--Edna St. Vincent Millay

* * * * * * * * *

It is winter and the new year.
Nobody knows you.
Away from the stars, from the rain of light,
you lie under the weather of stones.
There is no thread to lead you back.
Your friends doze in the dark
of pleasure and cannot remember.
Nobody knows you. You are the neighbor of nothing.
You do not see the rain falling and the man walking away,
the soiled wind blowing its ashes across the city.
You do not see the sun dragging the moon like an echo.
You do not see the bruised heart go up in flames,
the skulls of the innocent turn into smoke.
You do not see the scars of plenty, the eyes without light.
It is over. It is winter and the new year.
The meek are hauling their skins into heaven.
The hopeless are suffereing the cold with those who have nothing to hide.
It is over and nobody knows you.
There is starlight drifting on the black water.
There are stones in the sea no one has seen.
There is a shore and people are waiting.
And nothing comes back.
Because it is over.
Because there is silence instead of a name.
Because it is winter and the new year.

--Mark Strand

* * * * * * * * *

I say hello, but sadly good-bye,
as I hold you in my arms.
You, who I have known,
deep within my heart.
You are so real to me.
For moments, yet for all eternity.

Why?

Why
I ask,
must this be?

To endure in pain
is to ask for answers.
Why must this be?

Does God know why?
Will He enlighten me?
Will He strengthen my faith,
my beliefs so I can endure?
Will I ever know the answer?

Why?

--Julie Fritsch

* * * * * * * * *

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

--Christina Rossetti

* * * * * * * * *

If I should ever leave you whom I love to go along the Silent Way,
Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears,
But laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you there.
(I'd come--I'd come, could I but find a way!
But would not tears and grief be barriers?)
And when you hear a song or see a bird I loved,
Please do not let the thought of me be sad...
For I am loving you just as I always have...
You were so good to me!
There are so many things I wanted still to do--
So many things to say to you...
Remember that I did not fear...
It was just leaving you that was so hard to face...
We cannot see Beyond...
But this I know:
I loved you so--'twas heaven here with you.

--Isla Paschal Richardson

* * * * * * * * *

While I slept, while I slept and the night grew colder
She would come to my room, stepping softly
And draw a blanket about my shoulder
While I slept.

While I slept, while I slept in the dark, still heat
She would come to my bed, stepping cooly
And smooth the twisted, troubled sheet
While I slept.

Now she sleeps, sleeps under quiet rain
While nights grow warm or nights grow colder,
And I wake, and sleep, and wake again
While she sleeps.

--Robert Francis

* * * * * * * * *

Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle: she died young.

--John Webster, _The Duchess of Malfi_

* * * * * * * *

The dead they sleep a long, long sleep;
The dead they rest, and their rest is deep;
The dead have peace, but the living weep.

--Samuel Hoffenstein

* * * * * * * * *

Among the saints give rest, O Christ,
to the soul of Your servant,
where there is no sickness, or sorrow, or suffering,
but life everlasting.

Eternal in memory,
eternal in memory,
may her memory be eternal.

--from the Eastern Orthodox funeral liturgy

* * * * * * * * *

Warm summer sun
Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind
Blow softly here,
Green sod above
Lie light, lie light--
Good night, dear heart,
Good night, good night.

--adapted from Robert Richardson�s poem �Annette� by Samuel Langhorne
Clemens (Mark Twain) as the epitaph for his daughter, Olivia Susan Clemens


Take care,
Nicholas
From: Michelle la Belle on 23 Dec 2007 04:27
On Dec 23, 2:11 am, Noon Cat Nick <chatdemidiSPAMBEG...(a)hotmail.com>
wrote:
> rf wrote:
> > My name is Robert and I am also new to the group. Forgive me if I ramble but
> > I have to get this out or I will go crazy.
>
> > My wife Lola (11/8/1965 - 11/24/2007) died suddenly and unexpectedly from
> > undiagnosed cardiac disease 2 days after Thanksgiving and 16 days after her
> > 42nd birthday. We where high school sweethearts who meet in 1979 and got
> > married in January 1984 - just short of 24 years.
>
> > It just does not seem real. We were so young and in love then as we were
> > when she passed away. We had been through so much hardship together and
> > Lola and I often only had each other to lean on, depend on, comfort and
> > support each other. I would always hold her and tell her 'it's ok, it will
> > be alright. We've always found a way.' and she would do that for me. And
> > now that's gone. My heart hurts and I feel so lost and alone.
>
> > What makes it worse is that it is a double loss for me, for us. We had been
> > trying so hard to have children since 1999. We tried for 4 long years -
> > specialist, shots, and evasive procedures. Nothing worked. After that we
> > talked about whether we wanted to still have children and what our options
> > where - surrogate, adoption, etc. After a year we decided we really wanted
> > at least one child and decided to adopt. In the interim we lost almost all
> > nest egg and Lola lost her job in one fell swoop - she worked for Enron. But
> > we are committed and determined to be parents.
>
> > We were waiting for our home study when she passed away. A few weeks later
> > I let the adoption agency know what happened to Lola. I thought that after a
> > year I could continue our dream of having a child and I would still be our
> > child in a way since we started the process together. to my shock and
> > amazement I was told that I would probably NOT be a good candidate for
> > adoption unless I chose the 'foster care-to-adopt' program which are
> > children usually over seven and coming from households they had to be
> > removed from with no guarantees that would not go back to their parents or
> > other family members.
>
> > I was crushed, devastated and heartbroken. I lost my beautiful wife and our
> > child. We both wanted to be parents more than anything. Where is the justice
> > in this? We paid our dues. We went through the ringer more than once.
>
> > And now Christmas is here - her favorite holiday. Oh how she loved to
> > decorate the inside of our house and supervise me as I did the outside <g> .
> > and the weekend after Thanksgiving we would go out and by our Christmas
> > tree - just as we planned to do the day my world came crashing down.
>
> > Christmas Eve will be the worst - that was our Christmas. Our time together,
> > before family and friends.
>
> > I can't stop thinking about Lola. I can't stop crying, I can't sleep, I
> > can't
> > eat. I hurt so much and the pain won't go away. I'm numb. I miss her and my
> > heart and head are heavy..
>
> > Why did such a kind, loving, passionate and compassionate woman have to
> > leave so young? We always thought we would grow old together and see our
> > grandchildren playing in our front yard while we watched from porch swing.
>
> With you a part of me hath passed away;
> For in the peopled forest of my mind
> A tree made leafless by this wintry wind
> Shall never don again its green array.
> Chapel and fireside, country road and bay,
> Have something of their friendliness resigned;
> Another, if I would, I could not find,
> And I am grown much older in a day.
> But yet I treasure in my memory
> Your gift of charity, and young hearts ease,
> And the dear honour of your amity;
> For these once mine, my life is rich with these.
> And I scarce know which part may greater be,--
> What I keep of you, or you rob from me.
>
> --George Santayana
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
> So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
> Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
> With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
>
> Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
> Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
> A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
> A formula, a phrase remains,--but the best is lost.
>
> The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,--
> They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
> Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
> More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
>
> Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
> Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
> Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
> I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
>
> --Edna St. Vincent Millay
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,
> Shaped to the comfort of the last to go
> As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
> Of anyone to please, it withers so,
> Having no heart to put aside the theft
>
> And turn again to what it started as,
> A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
> Long fallen wide. You can see how it was:
> Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
> The music in the piano stool. That vase.
>
> --Philip Larkin
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
> Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
> I miss her in the weeping of the rain;
> I want her at the shrinking of the tide;
> The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
> And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
> But last year's bitter loving must remain
> Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
> There are a hundred places where I fear
> To go--so with her memory they brim.
> And entering with relief some quiet place
> Where never fell her foot or shone her face
> I say, "There is no memory of her here!"
> And so stand stricken, so remembering her.
>
> --Edna St. Vincent Millay
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> It is winter and the new year.
> Nobody knows you.
> Away from the stars, from the rain of light,
> you lie under the weather of stones.
> There is no thread to lead you back.
> Your friends doze in the dark
> of pleasure and cannot remember.
> Nobody knows you. You are the neighbor of nothing.
> You do not see the rain falling and the man walking away,
> the soiled wind blowing its ashes across the city.
> You do not see the sun dragging the moon like an echo.
> You do not see the bruised heart go up in flames,
> the skulls of the innocent turn into smoke.
> You do not see the scars of plenty, the eyes without light.
> It is over. It is winter and the new year.
> The meek are hauling their skins into heaven.
> The hopeless are suffereing the cold with those who have nothing to hide.
> It is over and nobody knows you.
> There is starlight drifting on the black water.
> There are stones in the sea no one has seen.
> There is a shore and people are waiting.
> And nothing comes back.
> Because it is over.
> Because there is silence instead of a name.
> Because it is winter and the new year.
>
> --Mark Strand
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> I say hello, but sadly good-bye,
> as I hold you in my arms.
> You, who I have known,
> deep within my heart.
> You are so real to me.
> For moments, yet for all eternity.
>
> Why?
>
> Why
> I ask,
> must this be?
>
> To endure in pain
> is to ask for answers.
> Why must this be?
>
> Does God know why?
> Will He enlighten me?
> Will He strengthen my faith,
> my beliefs so I can endure?
> Will I ever know the answer?
>
> Why?
>
> --Julie Fritsch
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> Remember me when I am gone away,
> Gone far away into the silent land;
> When you can no more hold me by the hand,
> Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
> Remember me when no more day by day
> You tell me of our future that you planned:
> Only remember me; you understand
> It will be late to counsel then or pray.
> Yet if you should forget me for a while
> And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
> For if the darkness and corruption leave
> A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
> Better by far you should forget and smile
> Than that you should remember and be sad.
>
> --Christina Rossetti
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> If I should ever leave you whom I love to go along the Silent Way,
> Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears,
> But laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you there.
> (I'd come--I'd come, could I but find a way!
> But would not tears and grief be barriers?)
> And when you hear a song or see a bird I loved,
> Please do not let the thought of me be sad...
> For I am loving you just as I always have...
> You were so good to me!
> There are so many things I wanted still to do--
> So many things to say to you...
> Remember that I did not fear...
> It was just leaving you that was so hard to face...
> We cannot see Beyond...
> But this I know:
> I loved you so--'twas heaven here with you.
>
> --Isla Paschal Richardson
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> While I slept, while I slept and the night grew colder
> She would come to my room, stepping softly
> And draw a blanket about my shoulder
> While I slept.
>
> While I slept, while I slept in the dark, still heat
> She would come to my bed, stepping cooly
> And smooth the twisted, troubled sheet
> While I slept.
>
> Now she sleeps, sleeps under quiet rain
> While nights grow warm or nights grow colder,
> And I wake, and sleep, and wake again
> While she sleeps.
>
> --Robert Francis
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle: she died young.
>
> --John Webster, _The Duchess of Malfi_
>
> * * * * * * * *
>
> The dead they sleep a long, long sleep;
> The dead they rest, and their rest is deep;
> The dead have peace, but the living weep.
>
> --Samuel Hoffenstein
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> Among the saints give rest, O Christ,
> to the soul of Your servant,
> where there is no sickness, or sorrow, or suffering,
> but life everlasting.
>
> Eternal in memory,
> eternal in memory,
> may her memory be eternal.
>
> --from the Eastern Orthodox funeral liturgy
>
> * * * * * * * * *
>
> Warm summer sun
> Shine kindly here,
> Warm southern wind
> Blow softly here,
> Green sod above
> Lie light, lie light--
> Good night, dear heart,
> Good night, good night.
>
> --adapted from Robert Richardson's poem "Annette" by Samuel Langhorne
> Clemens (Mark Twain) as the epitaph for his daughter, ...
>
> read more >>- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -

Hey Nick,
You ever tire of posting these?
;-) by the way it reeally helped when you posted to me before. *big
kiss*
I cried my way through them all, and there were a lot.
From: Noon Cat Nick on 23 Dec 2007 05:27
Michelle la Belle wrote:

>
>
> Hey Nick,
> You ever tire of posting these?

No. I only feel sad that there are so many occasions to post them.

> ;-) by the way it reeally helped when you posted to me before. *big
> kiss*
> I cried my way through them all, and there were a lot.

You're welcome...I guess.
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