Brittany Maynard

I am irrationally angry about Brittany Maynard's death. As a theoretical debate, I have always been on the side of death with dignity... until now. She said a few things in her video that ignited a rage in me that I cannot explain. I should feel compassion, I should respect her right to choose in her home state, I should say I do not know her and that it is none of my business. But, it is... as the widow of someone who battled a fatal illness for years, it is very much my business. What set me off? Two comments... she complained that she had gained weight because of the medications she had to take and that her seizure activity was increasing. As I watched these remarks I could not help but think of my precious Sue... the years she spent fighting seizures of every kind. A woman who would bike 20-30 miles a day reduced to someone who could barely walk across the room. I think of Sue in her "bubble" after the fire and the precious times she would be lucid and wink at me. I think of the woman I loved who fought for every last breath. Sue knew she would die... even worse she thought she would be in a vegetative state for the better part of a decade as her father and all of his brothers and sisters were. These thoughts plagued her. Yet, she FOUGHT for every last experience, every last moment, for time with me and those she loved. Those who knew her can vouch for the power of her smile, the infectious properties of her laugh, the way the light in her eyes would dance when she was excited. Her stories were legendary. You knew that the majority of them were voiced in hyperbole, but the passion behind the story made you not care and choose to believe it. She could have sold you the Brooklyn Bridge. I think of everything that made up my angel... and I weep for those Brittany left behind. Knowing that we lived every second to the fullest and cherished time as it slipped away is a huge solace in her absence.

Sue was taking upwards of 30 pills a day and like Brittany gained weight because of them. This was not easy for her. She was once a vibrant, active person and that was not the physical state she was used to. There was a song out at the time, that ended up being sung at her memorial service, entitled Moments by Emerson Drive. It is a man reflecting on his glory days, the things he used to be able to do. The song hit home for Sue. She mourned what she could no longer accomplish, but her indestructible spirit would quickly bounce back and celebrate the things she could do... we found new things... When she could no longer do pottery, or paint, or draw she took up photography. She adapted. She allowed those around her to find new joys with her. Those struggles and experiences are precious gifts to those of us who loved her and were loved by her.

If Sue had asked for an out... of course I would have honored what she wanted. I would have driven her to the dr and picked up the rx myself. That is what a marriage is all about, putting the other person first. I will forever be grateful that she did not. Signing a DNR and pulling life support plagued me for a very long time. I knew it was her wish and the right thing to do... I will never regret it, but it weighed heavily on me. I cannot imagine the crushing weight of being on the other side of death with dignity. I would have done it for her, without blinking. She was my heart and her happiness was all I cared about. I so wish I could thank her for fighting... for the extra time we had when she could have given up. She had enough meds here to end it at any time. She could have easily made that choice. She was stronger than I.

Saturday was the anniversary of Sue and I meeting and Tues I will see some of my in-laws for the first time in a couple of years. She is definitely in the forefront of my mind right now... maybe that has made me overly sentimental. Perhaps I am simply being selfish, but this bleeding heart left wing liberal just changed her mind. Brittany's pleading of her case convinced me how precious every single second with a loved one can be.

Robin Williams

Robin Williams suicide hits close to home. As someone who has battled depression most of my life suicidal thoughts are always floating around. The question is how close to the surface are they. This is true for more people than I think most realize. For those of us who experience such feelings, we lack the words to express the depth of dispair we feel. A call saying hey I need to hang out tonight may be all we can get out. As I look at pics of him floating all over FB all I can think is I get it... I have been there and I don't know what stopped me. A massive rejection lately and some tough situations upcoming move thoughts forward. Why are they there for some and not others? Can it be blamed on massive childhood trauma? Traumatic events as adults? DNA? All of the above? Who can say... I do understand his dispair. I get thinking that things will never get better... that you mean nothing. Unfortunately, it is hardwired in there. I recently had a conversation with two people to iron out some difficulties which lasted about an hour and a half. Much was said. I am sure affirmations were there. The one thing I heard... from someone I greatly respect and care about, is that I am not the "full package" and cannot be used at this time. My hardwiring. So I beat my head against the wall to be this package I know I will never be and the hopelessness sets in and there goes the cycle. I say this not for pity but to give you a glimpse into the mind of someone who leans towards such extremes. You get enough of these cycles going and the "why bother" button is fairly easy to push. I see all of these FB posts about him, but I wonder how frequently people actually reached out to him. I say this as I think of the silence in my own life. I had an emotionally rough day today. I reached out to several friends beforehand and told them it would be hard. They know my past. Crickets. Not even a text. Fortuatley today was an ok day, but in another head space today could have ended very differently. A dear friend who lost her husband to suicide very close to when I lost Sue explained that it is perfect set of circumstances on a given day. Thankfully today was not that day. You cannot single-handedly take on a depressed person and babysit them. It is too exhausting, you are not a mental health worker, and you have a life. Let's be realistic. But, you would be amazed what a simple phone call or text can do to simply let someone know they matter.