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Tuesday, August 19th, 2008 03:07 pm
The nice fellow died this morning. It was almost completely unexpected. He had been ill for a while, enough to scare me. But I couldn't get him to the doctor until a week ago. Today was his last dose of antibiotic, he wasn't getting better, and Frank and I were trying to get him to the doctor and he just stopped breathing while I was trying to put pants on him and Frank did CPR until the paramedics came and he just stopped.

That's not why I've been quiet for a while. I could actually blame Frank being home for that, but honestly, it was more burnout and the Sims.

The nice fellow and I were planning a few days off for me, and we were going to go to the White Mountains to commune with the bristlecone pines. Just before he died we were revising our plans to go to Point Reyes/Drake's Bay because he didn't think he could handle high altitudes while he was recovering from bronchitis.

On Sunday we walked three miles -- just to the end of the wharf and back, to see the Polynesian festival -- he had to stop every so often and sit for a bit, and he couldn't stick around for the music, but he was able to enjoy himself and I thought he was getting better. Yesterday he was a lot worse, and I was planning to go in to work late so I could watch out for him and get him to the doctor today.

I'm not cold-hearted. I did some crying earlier, and I will do it again, but right now I'm going to lose myself online for a bit.

I'm pissed that I didn't have enough warning to sing "our songs" to him.

Maybe play Sims, maybe catch up on his favorite websites.
Wednesday, August 20th, 2008 03:40 pm (UTC)
Condolences. Shock. Tears.

I never met the nice fellow, of course, but I saw him through your words, and I know he will be missed. Whenever you mentioned him, it was obvious that he complemented you, and that the two of you had a great synergy together. I think you are a rare bird; the nice fellow must have been one, too. The world needs every rare bird it can find. So I know he will be missed.

I hope Emma can join you and Frank soon.

Don't worry about sounding cold, or anything else. Mourning is as intimate as sex. We all do it, sometime, but we all do it just a bit differently, on different schedules. We each have our individual sensitive spots. Whatever you do out of love for the nice fellow and those close to you is not only fine, but right.

I'll be thinking of you.
Friday, August 22nd, 2008 05:50 pm (UTC)
thank you.