Cells, John, Jeff

Last night John and I took a walk with our cell phones. It has been the second time in a week that we have done that.

Sad, that this event alone is bloggable...but it has come to that. Since our cell phones are virtually attached to our hips, going anyplace, including going on walks, hikes, etc. without them, is news.

Last week, we found out that John has cancer of the nasal passages. First time I have written this and it is scary seeing it in print. Even though I know that cancer is not the death knell it once was, it is still scary writing or saying it in the same sentence with the name of a loved one.

John is an amazing man. I haven't written much about him because like an unbelievably incredible sunrise viewed over an Adirondack mountain (and then some), I simply can't describe with enough precision what John is like and what his love and support have meant to me --ESPECIALLY after Jeff's death. John is incredibly caring and kind and is a testament to the true meaning of friend/life mate. John is the giver of boundless love and support and in that regard I aspire to be more like him every day.

John found out about the cancer last week. When he came home and told me the news we started sobbing together...which we have done numerous times since Jeff's death. While we sobbed, he mumbled something that I didn't quite get at first and then it registered what he had said. In between the sobs he said "I can't believe the kind of hand, Mary Jane, you have been dealt in life. I am so very sorry."

That sentence in those circumstances sums up more than any other I could write the kind of person John is.

Several days before we found out, I was in the house alone in the kitchen--John having gone out to pick up his daughter, Britt. A couple of minutes after he left, I heard several sirens blaring and of course jumped to a quick conclusion. (Ever since Jeff's death I quickly unravel when I hear a siren after someone I love has just departed.) My heart started beating incredibly fast. I called him twice and text him twice and didn't hear from him for what seemed like hours. I was completely beside myself knowing that he had died in a car accident. Then I started with the self talk- reminding myself of why I felt that way and breathing deeply. When he finally called me I started sobbing.

And this before hearing about the cancer.

So the end of last week and this week I have done what I know I need to do-- shore up every single resource I have; surround myself with all the love and support I can find; and solicit pray-ors to be able to be there fully for the man who has truly been by my side for better and for worse.

I have reached out to my psychologist, my close friends and family, my God; I have regularly asked for hugs; I have added more comedies to my life and significantly reduced the number of crime shows I watch on TV; I have turned down my cell phone-or better yet -- left it at home; I have reduced the amount of coffee and alcohol I drink; I have turned off the computers and other electronic devices more quickly; I have started an ongoing dialogue with Jeff; and I am trying hard to "sit with" the people I love and the air I breathe to enjoy both while I am able to.

And I have started back at writing.

And for all of that I am incredible thankful.