Sending Love

I am healing. I am grieving. I am okay. I have a close friend who checks in with me via text. We say good morning, and I told her recently that I am, in fact, okay. It is hard to believe, and I always told myself, that if and when Steve dies, I may just have to voluntarily check myself into the psych ward. I have not had to do this since September 27th at 3:45PM when my partner Steve of 27.5 years died of stage four lung cancer. I have not been hospitalized for eighteen years. Steve was my rock and was just about to turn 64 years old.

This is an absolute miracle, and I thank Deep Song - my evening church on Sunday, my Bible study - a group of us women that meet on Wednesday mornings, CTK, AA, Al-Anon, this loving community of Lopez Island, old friends, my sister and her husband and kids, and my dear parents. I am an Adult Disabled Child, and I have been receiving disability (SSDI) since 2004. I became disabled before I was eighteen, and because of this, I have just enough money to live on.

I know that as a widow, and I believe this to be true for many widows out there, that when our husbands die, we become helpless. But we are not helpless. Many of us go back to work without any resume, endure the hardships and biases given to single women, or are adopted by our husband’s families, or even our brothers. As women in a patriarchal society, (and let’s be honest with ourselves, this is most definitely a patriarchy), we seemingly require the shelter of men. In our history, if we did not ‘belong’ to a man so to speak, we became vulnerable, and may have even been persecuted such as the “witches” (women) that were burned at the stake many years ago in Salem. As far as I understand, these women were independent and were simply resisting the injustices and the persecution done to black folks, and in doing so, challenged the patriarchy in our country that was built upon the enslavement of these peoples.

It is not really a funny matter. My partner, not my husband legally, but my lover and roommate of a separate household (we each had our own bedroom, money, and bath), did not have a father. He lived in poverty as a young child in New Jersey on the east coast of the U.S.A., with his two older brothers and his mother. They had some shelter from both sets of Steve’s grandparents, and some other family, and when Steve was about twelve years old, Dorothy (Mom) and her three teenage sons moved to Lincoln, Nebraska. Steve was born in 1961, so I suppose the year would have been 1973. There, they learned Judo from a man who acted as a father figure, received educations, and Steve’s two brothers who precede him still live there today. Dorothy passed away from Alzheimers in 2012 after her retirement, and was a brilliant college professor, Dean of Literature, science fiction enthusiast, a talented cruciverbalist, and a mother to many. She always insisted that I call her Mom.

Steve was a very intelligent man, and I have always been intellectually stimulated in my relationship with him. I also flowered, as I became his caregiver in the end stages of his life. I am so grateful for this all. I did not do well in college, as my brain is atypical. I have autism spectrum disorder (ASD), mental illness with psychosis, I am psychic and experience “visions”, and I mostly learn through images and concepts. I also learn from and see patterns, and think in abstraction. But at home, I learned a lot thanks to Steve, and Dorothy - as she supported us and my writing when I was in my twenties. I owe Steve and his family a huge debt for my survival in this extremely crazy world. Steve’s older brother Mike inspired my sobriety seven years ago. While Steve’s older brother Bruce, (whom I named my dog after), has always secretly been my hero. The stories that Steve shared with me about his brothers always touched me very deeply. Steve himself taught me about Faith, and cured me of anorexia/bulimia and kleptomania. I will never stop missing Steve. My heart is breaking every day. I am just super grateful that he sits now with his father, his mother, and his grandparents, in heaven, and that he watches over me and my family everyday. Because of this, I continue to be blessed beyond belief. I have so much gratitude for every single person on this planet right now, who is sending prayers and love my way.

Peace be with us all this very merry Christmas.