How Could You Just Up and Die?





Today is the date of my husband, Harry's, passing.  It is the fourth year, since he walked on.

I know his ashes are at the Landslide, near Alba, Michigan.  I put them there myself.  I'm familiar with the spot where I left them, because it was difficult for me, to even let go of the ashes.















The Landslide, Alba, Michigan (from the top)








I have just admitted to myself how angry I still am, for Harry leaving.  Sure, there's the weight of sadness along with the anger, but anger still surfaces, if I even allow myself to enter the place of grief at all.

Harry, how could you just up and die?  What were you thinking?  You taught jungle survival for God's sake! Couldn't you have handled a mass of cancer wrapped around your heart?  

You went into the jungles of Vietnam to rescue downed pilots, in the Air Force. You got them to where they had to be so they could get "Snatched up" and safe from being a prisoner and you walk out alone. 

Special Ops trained you to spy on enemy Vietcong. So you could gather information of their daily habits, return and teach jungle survival skills to your soldiers.  You were trained as a medic when you knew the sight of blood made you sick. You transported Crypto-Codes, Harry.  Couldn't you have redirected the cancer to something operable?


Harry referred to this book as his way of saying,
"When my time is up, it's up."


You survived living in a lumber camp as a child.  I wonder what the odds were, of a Native American baby being born in a lumber camp, and living? In a tar-paper shack, with a dirt floor? 

You were an alcoholic for seven years, a smoker for forty!  You conquered both addictions with your determination.  Couldn't you have done your "Mind-Over-Body" thing on the cancer?

You had bones fused, shunts inserted, arteries scraped and patched, a shoulder repaired and pinned.  You lived with PTSD and spent most of your adult life sleep deprived.  You raised three boys, nursed their mother through three years of aggressive cancer, raised two girls and put up with me.  Couldn't you have skimmed through your life-threatening disease with flying colors?

Why couldn't you hang on longer?  I needed more time.  I wanted more.


Necklace He Bought Me at a Powwow
He was proud of his American Indian Heritage





















Where are you, anyway?  I miss you.  I miss holding you hand, laughing and arguing with you.  I miss making bread for you and having you hover over every step of the process. Anxiously waiting to smother an oversized piece with butter.

I miss banging pots and pans when I'm angry at you and occasionally throwing things at you.  Arguing about politics, religion, social justice, psychology, how to fold the sheets, how to answer the phone……

I miss hearing you playing harmonica.  Sometimes, laying flat-out on the bed with your eyes on the ceiling, and other times in the car on long trips.  You loved Maria Lanza and Hank Williams. It was common for you to contradict yourself, with your likes and dislikes.


Hank Williams

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WXYjm74WFI

Mario Lanza

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zL0t6igBb8I


I miss you saying in the morning, "What do you want to do today?"  I knew you didn't care what we did, you just wanted to be with me and share our time together.  I miss you voicing your non-stop worries about the girls.

I miss how unpredictable you were.  How "yourself" you were. How infuriating it was! At the same time, exciting and fun.

I miss massaging your back and shoulders, hugging you and all of those intimate love things.  I miss how you'd look at me, like I was a priceless portrait, in a museum, and I was there with you.

I miss traveling with you. Discussing the weather. Watching the seasons come and go with you.

Harry, Walking a Hill in Iceland


I miss cooking for you.  Venison, morel mushrooms, bear, smelt, SOS on toast, meat with gravy and potatoes, (and of course, bread on the table, to hold in the left hand, while eating)  You rarely missed a summer to take me cherry picking in Traverse City.  You loved Michigan peaches and fresh cucumbers with salt. You loved ice tea in the summer and Spartan Cherry Cola the rest of the time.

You always asked for pineapple-upside-down cake for your birthday, bought a bag of pork rinds now and then, loved Butterfingers candy bars, shelled peanuts, vanilla drops, York Peppermint Paddies, sugared orange slices, and jelly-filled donuts.  Actually, you loved sweet and you loved salty.

It was easy to make you smile serving fry-bread with butter and salt. (and having apple butter on the table was even better)  You didn't mind oatmeal and toast or eggs for supper.  You loved to go on picnics with baked chicken and potato salad.


Sizzling Fry Bread

You helped me cook, clean, do the wash and iron, change diapers, do bills, encouraged my profession, and yet you projected the "Male-Chauvinist" to perfection.

I loved to see you rest peacefully, when I was in the kitchen cooking.  It was one of the few times you didn't have one eye open, in case you were needed.

You loved to reminisce about your old, fast cars and the 56 Vet you'd never be able to own.



I loved the little tattoo on your inside wrist that said, "Chief".  I knew it referred to your being Odawa and also became the rank you acquired in the Air Force.  I even loved the large scar on your right arm that was left when you had a tattoo removed, when you were younger.  We never did have the conversation about it.  I understood if it left a nasty jagged scar, as big as a hand, it was probably better left unsaid.

I always felt safe with you, Harry.  No matter where we were, I knew my life and the girls safety would come before your own.  I was sure you would place yourself in front of me to dodge a bullet.  Any kind of bullet, you had my back.  I could relax, knowing you were ever-vigilant to danger (real or imagined) concerning your family.  

So, why couldn't you have ripped out that cancer and stuck around?  Why did you have to succumb to death? I miss you.

I tried to stay in our home on Schuss Lane.  I loved our woods and oaks as much as you.  I wanted to stay and keep the huge boulders in our front yard.  I kept waiting for you.  Listening for your footsteps on the porch.  Waiting for you to stomp your feet on the porch before you entered.

I know you've visited me in my dreams.  But, going there with you makes it even more painful to wake up and be alone.


Harry Loved Clocks, Especially the Kind
Requiring Winding Each Day


You know I can't even leave a picture of you around.  I've tried and it's too hard.  It's so not you, when I see a flat image of you in a frame.  Your presence is so much more than a picture will ever be.

Maybe anger is good. I'm not at the point of waiting for you anymore.  I know my time with you is over. The funny thing is, just re-living our time together, has given it back to me.

When you first came into my life, I was angry at you most of the time, I didn't understand you.  I grew to love you and you became a part of me.  Now?  I love you and you are a part of me, even if I am angry at you.

The love, friendship, loyalty, fun and happiness, you shared with me, won't ever be forgotten, Harry. I never doubted I was loved.  Maybe next August 5th will be the year. Maybe 2014 will be the year I forgive you for leaving. And honestly, I'm afraid if I forgive you, I will lose more of you. If I stay angry at you, you will always stay whole, not watered-down by time.

I do resent being left to chart my own course.  But, thank you for giving me for 22 years to continually redefine what I wanted out of this life and how it should feel.  I know I have to be fearless alone.  I have to ask myself, "What do you want to do today?" I have to be content with spending time with myself.  But, for today?  I'm spending it with you, Harry.



 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2aFnibWp0M     Click for song or copy
                                                                                      and paste to view "I love How You Love Me"-
                                                                                      Bobby Vinton

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WXYjm74WFI     Hank Williams

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zL0t6igBb8I        Mario Lanza-The Lord's Prayer, Harry's Favorite
                                                                                    he remembered it being the last song before the
                                                                                    radio station shut down at night.

I'll Fly Away
Hank Williams
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wr_3TVucft0

















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