Pam's Life

I Miss You More Each Day.

2010-03-10T17:42:00.000-08:00

My Loving Henry,
My heart breaks when I think of you and I miss you more each day.
I still call out to you when I get home from work, knowing you hear me from above.
I kiss you goodnight from the depths of my heart; in darkness I miss your touch.
I know that soon enough, through the rest of time, I will feel the warmth of your laughter, and we'll be silly and fun again.
We were so silly, weren't we.
The dogs miss you too.
Our time was too short.
I Love You.
Always,
Pam

Good Memories.

2010-03-03T06:34:00.000-08:00

I was cooking breakfast today when I remembered our family birthdays. What a nice thing to think of. If you had been a speck on the wall during one of the Sherman/Mitchell summer birthday celebrations you probably would have thought we were crazy. Because when it came time to sing Happy Birthday, and I don't know how this ever came about, everyone -- the Moms, Dads, and all six cousins would do our utmost best to sing everything off key and very loudly. It was so fun, and seeing the birthday kid tear into presents, and share cake, play games and have fun is among the best times of my life.

Murphy

2010-02-28T08:29:00.000-08:00

Meet Murphy, who arrived at Pam's farm in Birchip a few days before it was time to go home. I honestly believe I've never seen a dog more adorable than this little gal.

Springtime Around the Corner.

2010-02-25T16:00:00.000-08:00

I'm so looking forward to the coming spring and warmer weather. I am sad my gardener love is gone. In his stead the landlord sent a team of gardener pixies to sweep, clip and clean up the winter's remains, and they did a mighty fine job. I found his seed packets and will germinate some right away, get them in the ground this weekend. I picked up an upside-down tomato growing device which he would have laughed at. Flowers are a fond memory. So are his tomatoes, chard and beans. He planted a patch of flowers named "Love In A Mist" in our front planter, a beautiful cornflower blue star-shaped flower with a haunting black center. They are taking over that area nicely. The chocolate cannas he transplanted from the backyard to the front. He used to point out each type of flower to me, tell me each name, and he knew so many. The lemon tree he planted has a single lemon growing on it which I'm going to let grow nice and large; when I pick it, I'm going to have some of his tea with that lemon, take in its essence, think of him, and thank God for the times, good and bad, that we had together. He taught me so much about life.

The Lord heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds. -- Psalm 147.3.

Strange Things, Strange Life.

2010-02-15T08:43:00.000-08:00

Strange things just keep happening to me and it seems they have no signs of slowing. Too many things to list! I am the gal whose fiance on our wedding day 5/1/05, as guests were arriving, went into a diabetic spin, so unsteady, came to me and quietly asked if we could please call it all off. I was in my wedding dress with my hair done, food bubbling in the kitchen and flowers standing at the ready. That moment hurt so much but we wisely decided otherwise. I fed him juice, we went on with our day and had a lovely wedding. He told me later he didn't remember having asked because it was not him who said the words, it was diabetes. I am the gal who every time I made plans with my husband, like clockwork -- five minutes before show time he would go into a hypoglycemic spin, sit down somewhere and tell me with great conviction that he wasn't going. I'd feed him juice and we would get going eventually and have a nice outing, whatever it was. We did many wonderful things together, once I helped set him straight. I remember the time he sat watching as I pitched our tent and pretty much set up the entire encampment, with him refusing to assist because he wasn't himself. And I just kept on going regardless of how difficult he was. Difficult but at the same time so lovely and loving, so I was easily able to overlook, and forgive. His love of tea, and gardening, brought us both such joy so often. I loved the daylights out of him and I miss him tremendously. I am the gal who went through years of struggling with Henry to keep him going, and did a really nice job of it. It was thankless to all those around us, especially his not-so-nice employer who was completely clueless. I am the gal who gave her youngest child a car only to have the car totaled in less than a month's time. I am the gal who tripped and fell in the big fancy breezeway at the spanky new Kaiser hospital on the way to a neurology appointment, and for reasons unknown, none, as in not a single one, of the surrounding nurses and alleged caretakers had the wherewithal to run and grab me an ice pack, even though I was repeatedly asking for one, in order to assuage the swelling of what was my right knee turning into a giant purple football of pain. It took almost an hour to get some ice, and only because I became more vocal (they stuck me in a room and 'forgot' that I needed some ice.) I am the gal who recently took a friend who had never visited Napa, up to Calistoga to drive the Silverado Trail and visit world renowned wineries in one of the greatest wine growing regions in the world, only to have that friend make oogy faces in the ZD tasting room, as though my friend had just taken in a mouthful of ammonia rather than the one of the finest wines in the world, which it was. (Note to others: Best to give inexperienced friends tips on tasting room etiquette beforeyou go, rather than after.) Needless to say I was mortified when said friend made an infantile face much as a child would do when that child has eaten something like strained spinach, cream of broccoli or something else the child considers icky. All I could think of was, this person is clearly not entirely with it. Sure, I know what you're thinking. Take the good with the bad. Well, I'm here to tell you, I am patiently awaiting some good to come around because I'm far overdue. Over and out for now. P.S.: S.O.S.!

Henry at Trefethen Vineyards, October 2007.

2010-02-04T16:17:00.000-08:00

Oh Lord, I miss Henry so much. He was a great guy as we all know; his illness had him in such a bad grip. We spent so many hours on 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. trips to the hospital during the last two years of his life, that I know he was serious about one thing: Henry did not want to die in a hospital. We had spoken about it several times. Henry was a bit mysterious, liked it that way and did not disclose his entire past to me. I accepted him as he was, and loved him. We had enough clouds over our heads to deal with as it was, so I did not want to stir up the past when our love was just launching. I learned so much from him. Not a day goes by that something Henry taught me is relived and relearned. Thank God for Henry. I don't know what he did in Texas or what kind of person he was then, but to me, he was a good man and a sweet man to come home to -- when he was well, his sugar was in a good spot, and everything was working just right. Mostly, it did. I just want everyone to know, I patched him up and set him right dozens of times so he could live another day to work, laugh, play, communicate and be himself, alive and well. Henry is no longer suffering and for that I feel better but oh, if I could only hold him, hug him one more time, say the things I need to say, say goodbye. I'll see Henry again, I know. Then and only then will I be better again. Because when I am with Henry, everything is all right.

Giving Is Good.

2010-01-21T13:14:00.000-08:00

I do something good, makes me feel like a better person each time I go.
I donate platelets to Stanford Blood Center. I am glad it's just up the road. I am a special human being in that I have type O+ blood which anyone can take. I also produce excessive amounts of platelets - one of my donations is equivalent to three donations by another individual. They always break into applause when I walk in. Today is an extra special day, because it has been 18 months since my last apheresis (platelet donation). I was precluded (deferred, they call it) because I forgot, when I got a tat of a very small lily on my left shoulder blade as a b'day present to myself last year, that platelet donors are not allowed to give for one year following that date. We will be glad to see one another tonight. I feel good donating whole blood and apheresis on a bi-monthly basis. I feel better knowing I am helping someone in a special way. If you would like to donate, please do, it is such a good thing. Call 888-723-7831 or visit the Stanford Blood Center website. Praise God for this gift I can give to those in need.

Second Anniversary.

2010-01-20T13:23:00.000-08:00

May 2007, Butterfly Restaurant, Pier 33, SF

I truly loved this man, as you all know. Yes, I had to take the very, very difficult with the very, very good, but Henry was a good man with a huge heart, a loving and giving husband to me. Bless his soul, he worked so hard all his life to keep himself together and alive. God Bless You, honey. I am doing better now.

Psalm 102:1-6.

2010-01-06T12:04:00.000-08:00

hear my prayer oh lord. let me cry for help, come to you. do not hide your face from me when i am in distress. turn your ear to me when i call, answer me quickly. for my days vanish like smoke, my bones burn like glowing embers. my heart is blighted and withered, like grass. i forget to eat. i am reduced to skin and bones. i am like a desert owl. an owl among the ruins.

Hear my prayer, oh Lord.

A new day.

2010-01-02T06:23:00.000-08:00

I am listening to Clare de Lune and cleaning Henry's room. I started at 4:30 a.m., and this is so hard. His things. I miss him each and every day and had no concept at the beginning that all of this would be so very difficult. We had so much fun together. Henry was so good. God Bless You, Henry my love. May the love of Lord Jesus bless and keep you at peace forever and ever. Amen.

What I Miss Most.

2009-12-31T10:55:00.000-08:00

What I miss:
My hands on his chest, looking into his smoke-filled eyes.
The feeling of my pinky on the small of his back. The hard, strong muscles he had.
Snuffling his warm neck.
Spoons.
Morning tea.
Dreams.
Him.
The deliciousness of him, our silliness, things we laughed at, what we had that no one else did.
Beautiful memories are what I have left of Henry. Pastor Bristol says, "Keep the best, and forget the rest."
I have never heard a sweeter voice than Henry's, telling me sweet dreams.

My Daughter and I.

2009-12-26T23:20:00.000-08:00

This snapshot was taken at Lake McKenzie on Frasier Island, Great Barrier Reef. Coral Sea. Southern Hemisphere. You can only get get to this lake by four-wheel drive. The island keepers created a big track that goes all around and up and down, high on one side now, low on the other later, and it takes about ninety minutes to get there. The island is thick with plant life and dingoes dart about with their slinky eyes. The lake is a freshwater lake and is so pure it contains only small plant life. It is like swimming in tap water. This day was one of the most beautiful days of my life. And this girl is the most beautiful gift God has given to me. John, my long-lost son, is no slouch, but he really should call more often. Thank you Lord for the blessings of my children. They have given me a lifetime of joy and I am blessed each time one of their lives unfolds a little more.

I Love and Miss Him.

2009-12-16T14:29:00.000-08:00

Bellagio Hotel, Las Vegas, January 2007

More on the JDRF Benefit Weekend: July 10-11, 2010

2009-11-20T07:43:00.000-08:00

Organization is underway for the following events:
Memorial Ride for Henry - Saturday, July 10, 2010 in the Calaveras hills. Breakfast at my house, then up we go past the Calaveras reservoir and beyond, through Niles Canyon and back.
Music and Song at Le Petit Trianon - Sunday, July 11, downtown San Jose. Years of work have gone into this. My friends will gather in one place to hear me and my friends sing and play songs together. Refreshments will be served. There will be a silent auction with all proceeds benefiting the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.
We hope to see you there.
Pam

Doors of Old.

2009-11-16T22:01:00.000-08:00

This is a side door on the Old Melbourne Gaol (pronounced "jail", that's what it once was), build in the mid-1800s. Located in downtown Melbourne, we toured the gaol immediately after spontaneously getting caught up in the huge street parade for Australia's Grand Finals. We had know idea what we were walking into. Everyone was there, it was raining like mad, and we kept looking at each other saying, wow, is this really happening? It really was.

2009-11-09T04:04:00.000-08:00

Our Dogs.

2009-11-09T04:00:00.000-08:00

Henry loved these dogs. He played with Sophie a lot. Loved making her growl with a good old fashioned tug-o-war.

2009-11-05T23:23:00.000-08:00

2009-11-04T21:05:00.000-08:00

Observations.

2009-10-30T23:02:00.000-07:00

love is everything. 1. Time is our most precious commodity.

Loved Opera.

2009-10-29T08:46:00.000-07:00

We listened to Puccini and drank tea. Below is a translation of Che Galida Manina, from La Boheme.

What a frozen little hand,
let me warm it for you.
What's the use of looking?
We won't find it in the dark.
But luckily
it's a moonlit night,
and the moon
is near us here.
Wait, mademoiselle,
I will tell you in two words,
who I am, what I do,
and how I live. May I?
Who am I? I am a poet.
What do I do? I write.
And how do I live? I live.
In my carefree poverty
I squander rhymes
and love songs like a lord.
When it comes to dreams and visions
and castles in the air,
I've the soul of a millionaire.
From time to time two thieves
steal all the jewels
out of my safe, two pretty eyes.
They came in with you just now,
and my customary dreams
my lovely dreams,
melted at once into thin air
But the theft doesn't anger me,
for their place has been
taken by hope
Now that you know all about me,
you tell me who you are.
Please do.
Translation by Peter J. Nasou

2009-10-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

2009-10-28T10:51:00.000-07:00

2009-10-28T10:03:00.000-07:00

2009-10-26T23:36:00.000-07:00

Taken on a walk together in the woods early in the year.