I wrote this line 25 years ago.
Now I wish I hadn't. Because I was wrong. So wrong.
As many of you know, my one-in-8-billion-people wife Debbie passed away in December, just before Christmas. That was the last time I posted on this blog.
It has been a tortuous, hellish 7 weeks since then.
And still is.
A time of screaming, raging, crying, confusion, introspection, more crying, and round the clock grieving. I'm told the grieving will never stop, it will just become a painful part of my body. Much like Debbie's failing liver was in hers.
I have that on good authority, witness the pile of death books I've grinded through...
I don't know how I will live without Deb, I only know that I have no other choice.
If for no other reason than to be with, guide, laugh and love my two daughters, Rachel and Abby. (I apologize for the bad syntax, my writing brain has not been running on all cylinders lately, understandably.)
I've buried a childhood friend, aunts, uncles, both my parents, but I can tell you, and countless therapists, including the ones that populate my calendar, will tell you, they pale in comparison to burying a spouse. Especially one who has been with me for 33 years, more than half my life.
I know I should insert an age-related 44 years old reference here, but why?
My number one fan, despite all my pathetic, oft-repeated jokes, is gone. I miss her smile, her laughter, her eyerolls, her understanding, her hugs, her kisses, her wisdom, and her unexplainable ability to put up with me, a self-admitted misfit. I miss everything about my wife!
And it HURTS worse than anything has ever hurt in my life.
And that is why I am returning to RoundSeventeen. While hopefully a source of amusement and delight to my 8 loyal readers, this blog is, and has always been, a source of therapy for me. I write because I can't not write. It is in my DNA as is my wife Debbie.
25 years I ago, I glibly wrote "you can talk to your wife anytime" and now I can't. It is the thing I want most in this world.
But you can. Or it can be your husband. Or your significant other. Or whoever is close to you.
Take it from someone who now knows, do not take anyone or anything or anyday for granted.
Ever.
We're all with you, Rich.
ReplyDeleteIt won't replace.
But you're not alone.
George is 1000% right, Rich. You're not alone.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for your loss. We're with you. And glad you're here.
ReplyDeleteSince I discovered Round Seventeen, I've always gratefully taken away something.
ReplyDeleteAnd today is no different.
I lost my partner back in May, and I have complete empathy for the horrible journey you are now on.
You certainly are not alone, and I'm thinking of you here in Philly.
Well said Rich, well said. Sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteRich I'm heartbroken. So sorry to hear. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you and your girls Rich 💜
ReplyDeleteRich I was devastated to hear about her passing. And I deeply admire the way in which you are sharing it transparently.
ReplyDeleteLet the healing begin. Glad you are back at the blog.
This would be a great place to share all my wonderful wisdom about loss, but anybody who's actually lived this knows words mean nothing when you're going through it. My best advice is to spend some time by the ocean. It's the oldest living thing, and a dear friend to those of us who need to be reminded that there are some things which were here long before us and will long outlast us. I'm sorry you have to live this new reality.
ReplyDeleteKeep writing. And sharing!
ReplyDeleteRich. With you. You're wife knew your sense of humor. Sorry man
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to hear this news Rich. We've never met but I feel like I know you through the magic of the internet. It will never stop hurting but it will hurt less. Then one day when you don't expect it, that hurt will become a comforting reminder, not a constant searing pain. Hang in there mate.
ReplyDeleteWe’re here buddy.
ReplyDeleteI remember reading this headline in school. I was completely floored. The whit and insight and charm completely captivated me. That entire campaign was brilliant. It’s part of what motivated me to put my book together and get a job. A job that grew and evolved and became a fulfilling career that helps put food on the table for my family. I can’t imagine how hard it is to look back on your work in light of your tremendous loss. I only hope you find comfort knowing it also sparked infinite blessings and love for others. Thank you so much.
ReplyDeleteVery sorry for your loss, Rich. I imagine you and she shared a lot of laughter together.
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear that.
ReplyDeleteMy 20 year old cousin killed himself in Aug 2020. And I am lost in confusion for a long time. Since I find your blog,I read almost every article. It is powerful with simple sentences and stories,especially your humour and attitude. It just give me.meaning of daily life.
Wish you find comfort and power in your words and.memory.
Zuwang from China.
As always, written with passion, intention and vulnerability. Again, sorry for you loss and pain, Rich.
ReplyDeleteI read this and I'm speechless.
ReplyDeleteAll I can say is I'm saddened to learn of your most valuable loss and the pain that brings.
My heartfelt condolences. What a beautiful tribute to her and an important reminder to us all to never take loved ones for granted.
ReplyDeleteSincerely sorry to read this sad news Rich. Here's hoping that when the time is right, following your devastating hurt and natural heart-felt grief that you uncover the joy, the laughter and remember not a second of this current pain you and yours will be enduring, to witness your pain replaced with the finest memories of the very best times (with a smile at some of the worst too) that you shared with your best friend and wife, Debbie.
ReplyDeleteFeeling your grief and sorrow and hope sharing the load through your supreme talent for writing help to replace this current pain with some smiles to bring happier times ahead. Whenever that time is, it will come to be. Thinking of you at this difficult time.
Sincere condolences for your loss.
Graham
New Zealand x
heartbreaking, i know. lost my husband of 31 yrs in october except he wasn't my husband. as of the end of aug we were officially divorced. and literally 7 weeks later he died. here's what i can tell you that has helped me (aside from i was already grieving a loss of one of my closest allies from our separation prior) - they become that part of you, your instinct...the voice you sometimes listen to and are usually glad you did. you can talk to her anytime and if you choose to believe it, your gut instincts and answers will carry her voice as well. it's not the same of course, but it helps. wwdd (what would deb do).
ReplyDeleteSincerest condolences to you and the family. I will take your words to heart today and always.
ReplyDeleteGod Bless you and your fam, Rich. You're a hall a famer. Thanks for sharing your brilliance, your talent, your thoughts on life. - Max
ReplyDeleteNothing I write will help. But I'm here. You can tell me stuff. And I'll listen.
ReplyDeleteMike
Damn. No words anyone else says can ease your pain, but writing may ease yours. Go, Rich, go.
ReplyDeleteOh hell Rich. I'm so sorry to learn this. Love to you and your daughters and Deb, who I suspect was never as bored as Round Seventeen's byline suggested.
ReplyDeleteOh Rich, there's not much to say. Keep moving...Deb would have wanted you to. Keep her love close to your heart...
ReplyDeleteDeepest sympathies Rich. Your words have always inspired. Echoing all that everyone has said. Love to you and your family.
ReplyDelete