I am beginning to feel better as the days wear on. For instance, I gave Patty’s truck to Dan recently. It seemed like the right thing to do. My big worry was my reaction during the giving process. I managed to hold myself together as we went through the paperwork. I really did not know how it would go. Our driveway now looks barren without the truck sitting there. Something else to get used to.

David is keeping the yard in good shape and I believe Patty would approve of the what he is doing. David is grieving the loss of his Mother and he tries to stay busy to avoid thinking too much. Not an easy thing to do when you are living in her house with the ever present reminders of her everywhere you turn. I am completely unable to do what I must eventually do to dispose of her belongings. I may never get there. It seems that everything in my present life is somehow connected to the events of our long marriage and my memories of these is painfully sharp. I think of our time together constantly and I continue to miss her very much. I would not have it any other way.


My apologies to all for  not keeping you up to date concerning my welfare.

I have a new medical practitioner advising me as to my treatment for my Parkinson’s. She has prescribed a larger dose of L-dopa taken at more frequent intervals. This new prescription seems to be working well as I feel much better now.

The new air conditioning is work very well and I have become dependant on it now that summer is here. I am paying less for my electric bill now than when we were using the fans.

I have completed ten weeks of meetings with a group of people that have experienced the recent loss of a loved one. It was a very helpful experience for me. I am glad that I did it. However, I am still having meltdowns when I speak of Patty and our life together. Our 66th wedding anniversary would have been July 27th and I do not know how I will react on that day. I owe her so much for the years she spent at my side. She made it possible for us to live a life filled with joy and happiness. She was the love of my life.

We met when we were eighteen years old and we both became adults together when we began our married life in 1951. We learned together as the years passed and we were fortunate not to have experienced any major catastrophes in the years of our marriage. We were very lucky. We were close in our marriage and we loved each other very much. It has been five months since Patty died and I am slowly coming to terms with the death of my remarkable wife. I will feel her presence at my side for the remainder of my life and will take comfort in the certain knowledge that she loved me as much as I loved her. What more can a man ask of  life than to be loved by an attractive and smart woman like my wife Patty.


Last night, I attended the third meeting of the bereavement support group I recently joined. We heard stories from several new members of the group and the details of one member’s story were eerily similar to the details to my story. It was remarkable and reinforces my belief that I stand to gain much relief from the pain of my loss of my wife Patty by discussing our shared experiences. Somehow, the knowledge that others have the sort of pain that I am experiencing is a form of grief therapy for me.

I learned the name of the deceased spouse of another member of our group and the name seemed familiar to me. I established that I had done volunteer work with the deceased person in the distant past and we had a great conversation about that. What a small world this is.




Mothers day for Patty was a day of receiving phone calls from our three sons and our many grandchildren. She downplayed the significance of the day, but enjoyed very much the opportunity to converse at length with those who called to wish her a “happy mothers’s day”. Both patty and I did not feel that a special day was needed to honor your parent’s sacrifices, made as your parents fulfilled their responsibilities as parents, and, consequently, we did not have a history of making a big deal out of “mother’s day”. That has proved to be a “blessing” now as we do not feel the need to “do something” tomorrow in spite of Patty’s absence. That does not mean that the substantial sacrifices made by parents in the course of raising their children is not appreciated by those children. It just means that the best way to honor your parents is to live your life, day-to-day, as they taught you. Now that I have made my point about “mother’s day” clear, I must tell you that I know that Patty is missed very much by all who knew and loved her and that the lack of the opportunity to call her up and wish her “happy mother’s day” will bring much sadness to all.


It is 5 PM, Saturday, with time on my hands. It has been the kind of day that I have come to dread – too much time to think. Unless I actively think of something else, my thoughts turn to Patty  and the downward spiral begins anew. I am thinking of her now and it hurts me in ways that I could never have imagined before her death. The feeling of loneliness is sometimes overwhelming and fighting against it seems futile to me  – but I am trying my best as I write this. I wonder if I will ever be able to think of our life together without feeling so sad because it has ended. These feelings are made all the worse for me because of my inability to set aside my strong beliefs that the death of a person is the absolute end for that person and as a consequence, no afterlife is possible. I must accept that Patty is just gone – forever. I believe that, but I have not yet accepted it. I do not think I ever will. The hole in my heart is just too large to heal in my lifetime.




I saw a neurologist, new to me, yesterday morning and I am much encouraged by the interaction between us. No, he does not have a cure for Parkinson’s disease, but he does have what I am seeking; the knowledge of the application of my DBS to my particular situation and, most importantly, the communication skills to make me a better informed Parkinson’s patient. I expect good things from our joint venture.

Yesterday evening, I attended the first meeting of the grief support group that I have signed on to for the next nine weeks. We spent the time telling our “grief” stories. All that passes between ourselves is considered confidential and I will respect that and the only comment I will make is that I believe I have the easiest “row to hoe”, over the next nine weeks. I was very touched by what I heard and I am doubly thankful for the love and support shown to me by my family.

My son came in from Lancaster today and we went shopping for a piece of brass from which we will fabricate a new valve for the big Lunkenheimer shop whistle that we are working on. We also priced a new 1/8 NPS tap and the asking price was $43.00 plus tax. We passed! I will borrow one from the vast numbers of new and old taps at the museum. My son needs one for the repair of the “Trial bike”  he recently bought. The 3″ dia. x 5″ long piece of brass cost $55 and weighed in at 10 lbs. Most of it will end up in the brass and copper scrap barrel that I maintain.


Well, I managed to piss off my oldest son by failing to inform him that I was in the hospital. He found out by reading my previous post to this blog. I apologized to him appropriately. We have a close knit family and I was very much in the wrong.  Now for my mea culpa, read on.

Never at any time during my two day stay in the hospital, did I feel I was in any danger of a serious problem. So, I did not consider it a life threatening series of events and I did not even think of calling anyone about my situation. Given my age, the fact that Patty had recently died, and my family’s concern for me, my failure to call was a huge mistake on my part. It will not happen again. Besides, I did not have my cellphone the first night, so I was “out of the loop” for a while. I have a lot more excuses, I will spare you from a recitation of them.

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