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16 December 2007, 00:00

i’m starting to hate Good Morning America.


It’s like clockwork now that I wake up about 3:30 and cry.



I should have pushed ken into taking bettter care of himself more than I did. Ken always did what he wanted to, and sometime if you protested enough, maybe something you wanted him to do. But this is the guilt I’m always going to live with, that no matter how much I can say, I got tired of pushing because it didn’t help, there was always that chance that he might have done it and what happened to him could have been prevented. I had to have been brave enough to take that chance to risk the comfortable relationship we have, risk that he would have left or pushed me away, risked all that for his life.

This is not grief guilt talking. This is the ugly truth. The ugly truth that gets soften by good natured and caring folks trying to take the pain away.

The truth is that I could have done more. The truth is a bunch of people could have done more. Mostly me, because I was the here, and I was the now. I understand there’s a fine balance between being his mother and being his companion, and at some point in life, people should be adults and the choices made are the choices to be respected. But the bare honest truth is, there was a chance that pushing him would have helped, and should he have left, I wouldn’t have to watch him die. But the guilt of this doesn’t drag on me like some cross, because I tried. And I was there for 11 years that could have been very lonely and very unkind to him. I have to balance all that out and that pesky fact that I’m a human and I make the mistakes and I can’t see into the future.

But. There was the chance. There was that small chance I could have saved him. Nobody can convince me that’s not true. It’s not my fault that he died. I know that. I feel that. I have no guilt about that. But there was a small chance, I could have saved him. I don’t think he would even blame me for anything, and I don’t think anybody would ever blame me for anything, but I do. And if I don’t face it, the accusing voice in my head will just grow larger until it booms in my brain and its all I can think about.

There was a time about a million years ago, I lost the dogs. They didn’t die or anything, but I lost them. They had been gone somewhere in the city, and ken and I had taken and put up posters and I had been crying for a day.

I woke up for some reason at about 3 in the morning and decided to get in the car. I drove down to the area where they were lost. Not a car on the road and a person stirring on the street. I saw two weird figures off into the distance. Just smudges but for some reason I was excited and through the tears I drove to the area where I saw them and turned a corner. In the rear view, I had saw the dogs bounding down the street for me. It was as close to a miracle as I had ever experienced. I brought them home and Ken was equally astounded.

I don’t/didn’t tell that story to anybody but ken because he was there and it sounds like one of those stories that only could have been on a sappy TV show or in a movie. Now I share it with you, risking a lot sometimes can gain you a lot and not giving up is better than giving up. It’s the mantra of the gambler, and its the chant of a fighter.

And of lately, I’ve been wanting and searching for something to fight, rather than sit here helpless. I say things out loud that Ken would have disagreed with or would have been exasperated with just to see if he comes out to argue with me. I have anger that I can’t point at any one or anything so it just sits eating a hole in my stomach. I have pain that kills.

And sometimes I’m just tired.
Dogs are getting more and more weird. There is like a power struggle thing going on. I’m going to have to kick dog butt or get the dog whisperer or something.

  • I have no clean… anything.

  • Since Sunday I’ve had 5 glasses of water and a half a sandwich from subway.


It’s fucking cold in Kansas.FLIPPED OUT


I sorta flipped out tonight. Flipped way out.

I started having waves of feelings of being uncomfortable. My chest tightened, and I thought about why I was uncomfortable. Because, hundreds of nights before, I did this same thing – sit here in the bedroom with the dogs and watch TV. Then suddenly now I feel uncomfortable, and it feels alien.

I thought about Kenny being in the other room on his computer all the other nights. I thought about what was different now. I was alone. I didn’t understand. I had been alone before Kenny. I thought about being alone now. I think its because I lost home. I had found something comforting and safe, and I had finally found home in Kenny and now I have to go through the rest of my life with out it. I have to be alone again. And to tell the truth, I didn’t do alone so good. I had no anchor before when I did alone. I had no “home”. no spot where I was loved and safe. And back then, it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t know what it was to be loved and find the whole universe in another and be so totally safe. even when I was little. I flipped out. I cried out for ken and asked how I was going to do the rest of my life like this. Because ken was gone. The one who grew to love me unconditionally, one who found beauty in me, the one who gave me a home. And I cried out. I wailed. I felt it twist down deep inside me. And I found myself wishing I believed in an afterlife. I found myself wishing I could believe so that I could see Kenny again. So I could see Kodak again. and I flipped out. It’s hard to deal with all this all by myself. People tell me I can call but it feels like that its an invasion – an intrusion. You can tell me till the cows come home that I can call but I don’t think I could get the courage to do so.

I flipped out really bad. I begged the universe for him back. I was on my knees screaming for him back. My breathe left me, and the wave left me.

I took a hot bath and seemed to pull it together a bit.

Tomorrow’s the service. I think its going to be about 35°.

I feel sick to my stomach.

Dec. 16

today is the service.

The sun has come out, and its turning out to not be overcast and gloomy.

I’ve tried to talk to the dogs. On what’s happening today. and how I wish they could come but they can’t and its part of that big scooping of unfair piled upon us. i don’t know if there will be a video camera there – I hope there is, but its probably too late for that arrangement making now. I wasn’t very good at planning ahead. I tried but my activity level has fallen to nearly zero.

i don’t know how I’m going to deal with today. I broke down and sort of flipped out last night, so maybe that was my way of getting a lot of extra out so I could pull it together today. Everybody says kenny would be proud of me with the stuff I’ve gotten through. I don’t want him to be proud. I just want him here. I keep saying that, I know, and I probably will. I don’t know when I’ll start to get the caring faces turning away from me – the type that were caring but they’ve feel the appropriate amount of time has come that I should have become more dignified or have more decorum or have the good taste not to talk about it.

I never really liked the holiday season that much, and this has put the kabosh on me ever liking it I think.


tomorrow I start work. I know its good for me. I just wish I had a little more time to adjust.

Who knows how long I would stay in that dark place I now exist without life poking at me to come out? I suppose that’s the way of things. And I am grateful there are a multitude of reasons and mass of people that won’t just let me slink away and give up on life.

But I wish I had just two or three more weeks. I don’t know if people really understand, I NEED to be in that dark place. I need to be there. For me. For Kenny. I bet Kenny would hate to see the place I am at now, but its a place I need to be for a while.


Went to the service today. Small turnout, I think it was because of the weather and probably the short notice. i got through it.

Now. I need someone to tell me how to get through the rest of my life.


i have dull ache in my chest. All I want to do is crawl into a ball and hide from the world. I feel alone. and the only place I feel comfortable is in this bedroom. I tried to eat, but its hard to keep it down. I can’t stand to watch fucking christmas come. I can’t stand to see it all. I can’t stand to be alone, I can’t stand to be with people.

I looked out the back yard and the dogs have litter it with junk they’ve scammed out of the house. I have to clean it. I dread doing that. I seem to have dread for just about everything. There were nice stories about Ken today. I just couldn’t listen to them. I can’t seem to focus my eyes on anything. I guess it is better that I be with people. But its all a distraction. A distraction from my dark place.

Everybody said I did real well when I stood up and talked. I felt I babbled, and I felt I didn’t make sense. I am the tired that touches the core of the bone. I miss ken, and all I know is I can’t see in front of me. Now I guess life moves on. It moves on for everybody. For me, time is standing still. I was selfish, I wanted people to be crying and hurt as much as I did at the memorial. I didn’t want everybody to be comforted. I wanted people to cry out in agony, like I was. I wanted life to grind to a halt for everybody. But it doesn’t. Just for me. It’s quiet and cold in my dark place.

I have an audio tape of ken doing his museum thing. His voice. What do I do. I want to hear his voice, but I want to hear it from him. I got all sorts of advice. I want to keep busy but sometimes I’m so tired I can’t fight the pain. I can’t find enough things to occupy me. I can’t keep the pain at bay. I don’t know what is worse, the alien numbness or the aching pain.

And its only me. here in the dark