Remembering the Last Day

Later, I would wonder if it was better that Lohain's death ultimately took me by surprise, or if I wished I had known just how little time we had left. I decided it was best not to know.

We lived those last days with a shadow over us, due to his weakness, but none of us let ourselves believe that he would actually die. We kept our fears to ourselves. It was never his way to give in to fear, and I was determined not to add to his burdens by giving in to my own. If the condition had been different, if we had known, I'm sure we would have been open and honest, but since we had reason to believe he would get better we wanted to focus on the positive.

I'm glad I didn't know. The existing shadow was enough, and we were deeply enough in love that we never took each other for granted. There's nothing I would have done differently. And I know that he cherished our daily life together, took comfort and joy in it.

That last meal. . . dinner on May 30th. I had made the family recipe flank steak with Pillsbury biscuits, a simple meal we both enjoyed. As was our practice, we cut the meat into strips and served it in a single bowl. We sat at the end of my dinner table and talked and ate together, just the two of us. I remember him pressing me to eat a third biscuit, and then watching me with greater than usual attention, seeming to deeply enjoy the sight (not something he'd ever done before).

He was tired, his bright yang spirit like a fire burning down to coals: still warm, but no longer a roaring, crackling blaze. We cuddled on the couch. We went to bed and made love for what was to be the last time. He held me in his arms, and we were husband and wife. We fell asleep together, each deeply comforted by the other's presence, for the last time.


I thought I was going to be more serene about this than I am. It's impossible not to go back into these memories, and they hurt. They make his absence feel raw again.

After work, I'm going to go to The Outback and see if they're serving their creamy onion soup. Lohain loved steak, but also loved the soup and bread at the Outback. I don't want to cook the same meal from last year, but having that soup and dark bread will be an appropriate commemoration.

Tomorrow, I'm going to be a mess in the morning, I'm sure -- and then I'm going out to my sacred island and go walking. It will be better for me than staying shut up and grieving, and he loved the out of doors. It will be a fitting tribute to him to be out and exploring.

Making a Different Choice

I left work at noon today because I simply couldn't concentrate on my job.

When I got home I read some LJ and then started playing my computer poker game -- fully aware of the fact that I was doing it to avoid dealing with my pain. You're going to have to deal with it sooner or later my inner voice told me. I know, I replied. I just need some space first.

The inner voice shut up. When I realized I couldn't avoid it any longer, I went upstairs, got into my soft loungy clothes, and lay down. Okay I thought -- but as soon as the ache started to move through me, I flinched away. And then I started crying a little, and then I reached out to Lohain.

I spent some time just being with my pain, and with him, and cherishing a couple of supportive emails from oakmouse that came through on my gadget. And then I changed into my workout clothes, came downstairs, and walked more than two miles on my treadmill.

I did not take a nap to hide from the pain, nor did I walk across the street to buy nachos to distract myself and try to offset the pain with food pleasure, nor did I drink alcohol. I walked until I was sweaty and starting to feel hollow inside. I'm proud of myself.

Now I'm going to take a shower and then go get soup and bread and grilled shrimp on the barbey for dinner.

Once Upon a Time

I'm not going to write about death tomorrow morning. Instead, I'm going to try to tell the story of how Lohain and I met. It's hard, because there are mysteries involved, and the backstory is complex. I simply won't be able to relate anything but the essence.

I used to write here about my daimon, the "masculine muse" and ideal lover. My daimon first began to appear in my fantasies when I was twelve, and although his original, more gentle form was eventually replaced by a warrior-prince, his spirit shone through every romantic hero in my personal mythic stories.

Behind the cut is a brief episode from that very first story. The prose was edited many times over the years, but basic actions and chemistry of the scene have never changed. I wrote this for the first time when I was perhaps fourteen years old, probably before I'd ever actually been kissed.

I'm posting it here now because it has everything to do with meeting Lohain for the first time.

( Adria is a seventeen year old girl who won a fan magazine contest and is guest starring in a popular television show. After a somewhat rocky rehearsal, she's about to shoot a scene in which her character kisses Richard, one of the stars, who she has a huge crush on. Richard was the first personification of my daimon and this was the first kiss I ever wrote. )