Relationships are an odd mix of power and consent. It's a dance that both individuals attempt to master while they learn how to relate to each other and how to communicate. I'd made a decision pretty early on in my relationship with Malcolm to allot him a large portion of the power in our relationship, content to let him do as he pleased, and also content to be obedient and respectful of his decisions. It worked for me then, and he was fair, always. He took my wants and needs into consideration, and was extremely permissive of my having liaisons with other men so long as I always came home to him.
Sometimes though, it was as though he didn't hear me.
After the trials we've been through in the past couple of weeks, some of the negotiations included me taking some of that power back, simply for my own sanity. Are we still D/s? Yes, we are. But I'm less likely to be kneeling in his palm, and more likely to be standing, a bit defiantly, and plotting ways to top him from the bottom.
Malcolm always liked the idea of my being a switch. Although in our role playing he makes the worst sub ever, LOL, I think he'd like to watch me Domme someone else, be it a woman or a man, I'm not sure. He's also become much more forceful in our sex life, physically aggressive in new and exciting ways. However, that being said, he's also assisting me in taking that power back sexually, and letting me top him. I like knowing that we are an equal match sexually, that I can command his body equally as successfully as he can play mine. He's trained me well over the past two years, so well that I can now say that I can squirt consistently with most men, even Jachin. Malcolm's patience and ingenuity as a teacher with my body was unprecedented. He did whatever he had to do to achieve the results. LOL, and I do mean anything. Today I showed him that I have been an adept student, and can master his body.
I had to make him wait this week, having many appointments and interviews. But I'd teased him, letting him know the only thing I could think of doing was kneeling between his legs and forcing his cock down my throat until I choked. He's so very turned on by that imagery that he was beside himself most of yesterday waiting for it. And I did just that today when I saw him. I sat him on the edge of the bed, got on my knees in front of him, and went down, bit by bit, and inch by inch until the entire thing was in my mouth and forcing past my uvula into my throat, where breathing was impossible, and every time I swallowed would contract all the muscles around the head of his cock. He let me play with him that way for a long time today, letting me stroke ribbons of thick spit around his shaft and onto his balls, letting me lick up and down his cock, and suck his balls, lick around and behind them. He let me choke and gag on him as much as my heart desired, often fisting my hair to force me down harder because he just loves how it feels so damn much.
He had me stop eventually, and urged me to jump on him and ride him hard. Malcolm is the only man I've ever been able to ride successfully for any length of time. I'm so wet that most guys just continually slip out. Not Malcolm, his cock is lodged up in me deep, and he's a master of moving when I do so that it's about the ride, and not about putting it back in the hole every 2 seconds. I feel so free when I ride him, and it's all about what I want. I can sit him hard, and grind him way up inside of me. I can lean forward and tease his head, or ride him hard and fast. I can raise up one knee and make circles on him which absolutely drives him mad. And then I can lean back and make his cock rub my g-spot.
He begged me not to make him cum, and I obliged him, but I also knew that if he was already begging, it was getting really close. So I got off and told him to eat me, and he went down, sucking my very wet clit into his mouth. His breath is so hot on me when he goes down, and he goes down for such a long time. He'd eat me for hours if we had the time. He's done it before, alternating between a few strokes of his cock inside of me, and then back down to fuck me with his tongue and suck and bite and lick my clit until I scream. He loves making me wild, seeing how desperate I can get. Today he wouldn't give me what I wanted to get off. He knows I like his fingers up inside me deep while he sucks me, and he teased and teased, circling the entrance but never going in. He fingered my ass instead, knowing that makes me incredibly crazy. Something about the combination of being eaten and having him tease my ass with his fingers will make me ride his face, and fuck his hand, and beg, and cry, and plead with him to do whatever he wants to just make me cum. And he'll make me ride that line for awhile, until his own cock feels full to bursting, and then he'll slam his cock home inside of me until the dam breaks and I squirt, nonstop, until we both cum. Today the squirting undid him. He came almost right away, feeling my pussy clamp down on him and he tried desperately to pull out, to make it stop, but he couldn't, and he came and came, my muscles alternately rippling over him and relaxing as my own aftershocks pulled the cum out of him and deep inside of me.
It made me happy to know he'd lost control.
He apologized over and over for cumming too quickly, but I stopped him immediately, and let him know that he is not the one with all of the sexual power in this relationship. Some days, he'll play me. Others....I'll damn well play him. We're equal that way, and it's good. Damn good. And yes, by his standards it was a quickie. But for real, it was more than an hour....baby, you did good.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
What is Love?
If I speak in human and angelic tongues
but do not have love,
I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.
And if I have the gift of prophecy
and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge;
if I have all faith so as to move mountains,
but do not have love, I am nothing.
If I give away everything I own,
and if I hand my body over so that I may boast
but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It is not jealous, is not pompous,
it is not inflated, it is not rude,
it does not seek its own interests,
it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing
but rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
1 Corinthians
Chapter 13
Malcolm and I were discussing what we both thought Love was. We both agreed that love enhances your life, it doesn't bring you down, doesn't make the quality of your life worse. It builds you up, the person that loves you has your back, fills in the weak spots, shores up your defenses. They provide you with completion. You want to be with them simply because of the joy that manifests itself when you are around them. You want to do things for them, you want to make them happy in spite of yourself. We may have our problems, every couple does. But no doubt that we have love. Relationships were never meant to be easy, if they were, everyone would have a great one the first time. But this one, with him, is worth working at. I'm willing to put in the work. He seems to be as well. Time and effort will see.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Addict, Part 2
I knew that asking Jachin for space would leave him wide open for an attack from his Addiction. She'd read here that I was distancing myself from him, and dealing with my own issues, and use that as the time she needed to start whispering in his ear. I'm sure that everyone remembers Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. There is a scene where Aragorn meets up with Gandalf to go to the King of Rohan to have him rise up against the forces of Saruman and Mordor. Rohan's King, Theoden, had been under a spell by Saruman's evil seducer, Grima Wormtongue. Grima would whisper in the kings ear, relentless in his insinuations, relentless in his attempts to turn Theoden against everything that was important to him...his son, his country, his people. Theoden became feeble and elderly before his time. He was tired, he was confused, and he believed Wormtongue to be good and just, to be the only person that truly loved him. Wormtongue worked hard to isolate Theoden from his loved ones, his friends and family, and was insidious in making Theoden completely and solely dependent upon him for everything. Take a peek:
So it has been that the Addiction has yet again Infected Jachin in my absence. It's the same dog and pony show, she has used all the same tactics that you'd think he'd be immune to by now. Of course the Addiction isn't allowed into the house. Malcolm, with incredibly valid reasons, has decided that he's one step away from obtaining a restraining order on her. Jachin wanted the banishment lifted, but foolishly asked in the presence of his own brother, who quickly sided with Malcolm. Nobody wants a Wormtongue running roughshod through your own home, totally out of control and mostly unsupervised. Malcolm doesn't feel safe. He worries about his things, and he worries about what the Addiction will do and say next. It's not a matter of IF she will so much as WHEN she will. The patterns are incredibly clear, and unfortunately, she is more manipulative than Jachin. Malcolm says he is not ok with that. I personally just don't give a shit anymore. I'm tired of watching Jachin stick his hand into the fire again and again and again and again. He keeps getting burned, but for some reason, the mechanism that allows him to learn from the experience is broken. I restate....He's living where he is now because his Addiction made him homeless. Here are some other great questions: Why is he currently unemployed? Why did I have to write a blog about being Blackmailed? Answers? The Addiction.
Yet again, I say I'm tired. If Jachin wants a Grima Wormtongue, he should just go get it. If he wants to be controlled and isolated from all his family and friends, he should just go do it. If he wants to ride the roller coaster of that relationship for the rest of his life because he needs that drama, he should just do it. I don't want to be in the middle anymore, I don't want to be stalked anymore, I don't want to be blackmailed anymore, or whispered about venomously via a 3rd party anymore. I will be sad if he chooses poorly again. But I'll understand he just can't help himself, and there is nothing more I can say or do. I just hope he's not really stupid enough to believe that the Addiction wants back into the apartment because of him.
So it has been that the Addiction has yet again Infected Jachin in my absence. It's the same dog and pony show, she has used all the same tactics that you'd think he'd be immune to by now. Of course the Addiction isn't allowed into the house. Malcolm, with incredibly valid reasons, has decided that he's one step away from obtaining a restraining order on her. Jachin wanted the banishment lifted, but foolishly asked in the presence of his own brother, who quickly sided with Malcolm. Nobody wants a Wormtongue running roughshod through your own home, totally out of control and mostly unsupervised. Malcolm doesn't feel safe. He worries about his things, and he worries about what the Addiction will do and say next. It's not a matter of IF she will so much as WHEN she will. The patterns are incredibly clear, and unfortunately, she is more manipulative than Jachin. Malcolm says he is not ok with that. I personally just don't give a shit anymore. I'm tired of watching Jachin stick his hand into the fire again and again and again and again. He keeps getting burned, but for some reason, the mechanism that allows him to learn from the experience is broken. I restate....He's living where he is now because his Addiction made him homeless. Here are some other great questions: Why is he currently unemployed? Why did I have to write a blog about being Blackmailed? Answers? The Addiction.
Yet again, I say I'm tired. If Jachin wants a Grima Wormtongue, he should just go get it. If he wants to be controlled and isolated from all his family and friends, he should just go do it. If he wants to ride the roller coaster of that relationship for the rest of his life because he needs that drama, he should just do it. I don't want to be in the middle anymore, I don't want to be stalked anymore, I don't want to be blackmailed anymore, or whispered about venomously via a 3rd party anymore. I will be sad if he chooses poorly again. But I'll understand he just can't help himself, and there is nothing more I can say or do. I just hope he's not really stupid enough to believe that the Addiction wants back into the apartment because of him.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Missing You
It's been a stressful week, and capped today by another death in my family. I got the call from my sister in law as she gets to be the bearer of the bad news this time. Though I feel sad at this uncle's passing, the sting isn't quite so fierce as it was for Norm. This uncle I only had the pleasure of seeing once a year, and that once a year had stopped awhile ago. My brothers and sisters and I are distinctly overwhelmed by the loss right now, and my prayer is to have just one day, one simple day where there are no tears. Today wasn't that day.
Malcolm and I have been talking every day, discussing his issues, discussing my issues, and between the both of us discovering some of Jachin's issues. So I decided this morning that I'd had enough of not seeing him, that it was time for us to negotiate in person. Being away from him has been hard....I love him, and I miss him terribly. But I desperately needed some time off, and he understood. He's been patient, and hasn't been pressuring me, has been letting me get my head back, letting me vent my grief and rage. Last night he stayed with me during my crying, listening to me talk about my loss, all the changes going on around me, and how sad it made me to see how disposable a life really is. I can't control when it comes over me, the overwhelming sense of loss, to see the house 3 doors up from mine that has stood filled with my relatives all my life, bustling with their comings and goings, and all of our celebrations throughout the years, all the comings together, done...and the house now dark, empty, and silent. And Malcolm began to understand the magnitude of this death to me.
I called him this morning to ask if I could spend the morning with him. I knew he'd wait for me to ask as opposed to asking me to come to him. I love that even though I asked him for space, he didn't abandon me out there, he loved me enough to not let me run away, and kept us communicating as best we could. So I asked him, and he didn't hesitate for a second, like he'd been waiting and hoping for it. We spent some moments in friendly banter, him asking me to stop his shopping compulsion, my telling him he needs to learn to just appreciate and love what he has instead of always trying to upgrade to the latest greatest thing. That's such a guy thing though, isn't it? I realized, when I saw him open the door for me that I'd missed his smile. I'd really missed his sloe shaped eyes, and I'd missed his kiss. And we talked more, and made love, and satisfied each other over and over and over again. I cried again when we both came for the last time, together. I'm not really sure why. I felt relief, for sure, for finally getting rid of my sexual frustration. I knew I could never leave him, because he "gets" me like nobody else, except maybe Jachin, does. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him I wanted him to give me my fairy tale. He couldn't promise that, and really, most fairy tales are kinda scary. But he knows I need more time from him, and I see him trying to make it.
As far as the whole jealousy thing goes, god only knows what will happen with that. Jachin is rather mad at me for staying Malcolm's girlfriend. Malcolm just wants me to put myself in his position and take his feelings into consideration concerning all my activities with Jachin. They both make some valid arguments, really. And as always I love them both and I don't want this bickering to go on. Jachin's jealousy has been very active lately, with him lashing out at imagined indiscretions on my part. I'm not really sure what's going on with him, but I can't imagine when he became this possessive again. Malcolm said it's always been there, but I never bothered to really look before. Either way, I wish I could say or do something to put them both at ease. Unfortunately, there just is no easy answer this time. Maybe, like with my grief, time will be the greatest healer of all.
Malcolm and I have been talking every day, discussing his issues, discussing my issues, and between the both of us discovering some of Jachin's issues. So I decided this morning that I'd had enough of not seeing him, that it was time for us to negotiate in person. Being away from him has been hard....I love him, and I miss him terribly. But I desperately needed some time off, and he understood. He's been patient, and hasn't been pressuring me, has been letting me get my head back, letting me vent my grief and rage. Last night he stayed with me during my crying, listening to me talk about my loss, all the changes going on around me, and how sad it made me to see how disposable a life really is. I can't control when it comes over me, the overwhelming sense of loss, to see the house 3 doors up from mine that has stood filled with my relatives all my life, bustling with their comings and goings, and all of our celebrations throughout the years, all the comings together, done...and the house now dark, empty, and silent. And Malcolm began to understand the magnitude of this death to me.
I called him this morning to ask if I could spend the morning with him. I knew he'd wait for me to ask as opposed to asking me to come to him. I love that even though I asked him for space, he didn't abandon me out there, he loved me enough to not let me run away, and kept us communicating as best we could. So I asked him, and he didn't hesitate for a second, like he'd been waiting and hoping for it. We spent some moments in friendly banter, him asking me to stop his shopping compulsion, my telling him he needs to learn to just appreciate and love what he has instead of always trying to upgrade to the latest greatest thing. That's such a guy thing though, isn't it? I realized, when I saw him open the door for me that I'd missed his smile. I'd really missed his sloe shaped eyes, and I'd missed his kiss. And we talked more, and made love, and satisfied each other over and over and over again. I cried again when we both came for the last time, together. I'm not really sure why. I felt relief, for sure, for finally getting rid of my sexual frustration. I knew I could never leave him, because he "gets" me like nobody else, except maybe Jachin, does. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him I wanted him to give me my fairy tale. He couldn't promise that, and really, most fairy tales are kinda scary. But he knows I need more time from him, and I see him trying to make it.
As far as the whole jealousy thing goes, god only knows what will happen with that. Jachin is rather mad at me for staying Malcolm's girlfriend. Malcolm just wants me to put myself in his position and take his feelings into consideration concerning all my activities with Jachin. They both make some valid arguments, really. And as always I love them both and I don't want this bickering to go on. Jachin's jealousy has been very active lately, with him lashing out at imagined indiscretions on my part. I'm not really sure what's going on with him, but I can't imagine when he became this possessive again. Malcolm said it's always been there, but I never bothered to really look before. Either way, I wish I could say or do something to put them both at ease. Unfortunately, there just is no easy answer this time. Maybe, like with my grief, time will be the greatest healer of all.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Happier Note
Our negotiations continue, civil and polite. In the meantime, enjoy some pics from our last BBW/BBC party. We had fun :)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Taking Time Out for ME
I made a decision, on Sunday, that I needed some me time. I needed some space from the guys, and I needed to re-evaluate what I was feeling, and all the harsh words that were spoken. It did occur to me late on Monday that I probably shouldn't be making any final decisions about friendships and relationships in the middle of my grief, and I'm glad I decided just to take some time off and focus on what my mind and heart are trying to tell me.
Neither guy took me seriously when I asked them for space, at least not at first. I suppose they knew when I was sobbing that I wasn't at my most rational. I knew I didn't want to leave either of them behind permanently, but I also knew that things just couldn't go on the way they had been, either. Love wasn't the issue. I love Malcolm, no question, and I know without a doubt that he loves me too. But sometimes love isn't enough, either. Love without the actions behind it is pointless. It's like having a planet with no oxygen. Yes it's a planet, but nothing can LIVE on it. Telling someone you love them, no matter how often, isn't the same as showing them that you love them. And showing them is work. It's being there for them when they are hurting. Attending events you don't really care for because you believe in them and want to support them. It's pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone simply because they mean more to you than your own self consciousness.
Jachin, miraculously, gave me my space, once I hammered the idea home. Malcolm had more trouble with it, which seems about right since he has more invested. It gave me hope that we could work things out knowing that he missed our connection as much as I did. So today I decided to break my silence and speak to Malcolm about what was troubling me, and asked him to tell me, finally, what he wanted. And the negotiations continue.....
Thankfully, I'm less inclined to fits of sobbing today than on Monday. I'm still having trouble getting through the day completely dry eyed, but it's getting better every day. That makes it easier to have sane rational thoughts about what to do. We do have more to discuss and hammer out, but things are looking more positive than they were, and that makes me feel happy again. I'm glad because I miss Malcolm. And I miss Jachin too. Hopefully we can find an amenable solution quickly, and get back to whatever semblance of normalcy we might have ever had.
Neither guy took me seriously when I asked them for space, at least not at first. I suppose they knew when I was sobbing that I wasn't at my most rational. I knew I didn't want to leave either of them behind permanently, but I also knew that things just couldn't go on the way they had been, either. Love wasn't the issue. I love Malcolm, no question, and I know without a doubt that he loves me too. But sometimes love isn't enough, either. Love without the actions behind it is pointless. It's like having a planet with no oxygen. Yes it's a planet, but nothing can LIVE on it. Telling someone you love them, no matter how often, isn't the same as showing them that you love them. And showing them is work. It's being there for them when they are hurting. Attending events you don't really care for because you believe in them and want to support them. It's pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone simply because they mean more to you than your own self consciousness.
Jachin, miraculously, gave me my space, once I hammered the idea home. Malcolm had more trouble with it, which seems about right since he has more invested. It gave me hope that we could work things out knowing that he missed our connection as much as I did. So today I decided to break my silence and speak to Malcolm about what was troubling me, and asked him to tell me, finally, what he wanted. And the negotiations continue.....
Thankfully, I'm less inclined to fits of sobbing today than on Monday. I'm still having trouble getting through the day completely dry eyed, but it's getting better every day. That makes it easier to have sane rational thoughts about what to do. We do have more to discuss and hammer out, but things are looking more positive than they were, and that makes me feel happy again. I'm glad because I miss Malcolm. And I miss Jachin too. Hopefully we can find an amenable solution quickly, and get back to whatever semblance of normalcy we might have ever had.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Endings
I'm so tired. That bone weary, just want to lay my head on the pillow tired. I've cried a thousand tears for men this week. Men I loved, men I love still. It's quiet now, very still in my solitude. I said goodbye to my uncle, my father for so many years. I miss you so much already, and this sadness just won't seem to pass. Goodbye for now to Malcolm. You know I love you, but that path that we walked together...it's time for me to change road for a bit. My lover, my mate, my friend. And Jachin. I love you as well.
Change is always upsetting, frightening. I know all these wonderful men will be fine. Many blessings, all my love, and laughs to remember.
Change is always upsetting, frightening. I know all these wonderful men will be fine. Many blessings, all my love, and laughs to remember.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Loss
I wanted to just drive away and pretend like I'd never seen the ambulances. Not even really the ambulances, but that police car, that lone, stark, black and white vehicle that lets you know this is beyond emergency, that someone was needed there to witness. I sat in my car, on the corner, looking straight ahead at my house, and then looking back at all those emergency vehicles. I pulled out my phone to call my big brother, and was told he was already on his way. Another bad sign, he wouldn't leave work for just anything. So I called my niece, who lives next door to the commotion, and heard her small, frazzled, and very frightened voice answer, and I knew I couldn't run away....I had to be a grown up and deal.
They were taking him out on a stretcher when I got there. He was intubated, a fairly decent sign. My aunt was confused, her Alzheimer's making her unable to grasp the gravity of the situation, not letting her remember after 5 minutes or so what had transpired. She didn't remember that she was the one that called 911. She couldn't remember why her brother was not in the house. But she could remember that something was WRONG, and it ate at her, making her wring her hands and ask me, "What happened? Where is he?" And then quietly asking "Is he dead?" "He stopped breathing ma taunte....you were brave and called the ambulance for him....he's going to the hospital now....no, he's not dead."
My niece, shaking and frozen, was so relieved that SOMEONE was there. Her mom showed up next, and I told them to go to the hospital, that I would stay with my aunt. And I started making the phone calls to family. Those phone calls that are all about delivering bad news before the bad news is final. "His heart stopped, he wasn't breathing....he's intubated....He's a DNR....." And then it was MY turn to get that call "You gotta come to the hospital, and you gotta get here fast. You gotta get ma taunte here too. He's coming off the support, it won't be long."
So we were all with him, in his final moments. All there to bear witness to his passing, to struggle with him, let him feel our boundless love for him, and let him know it was ok to let go. We held him, tried to comfort him, prayed, and cried. And we let him go, this man, our uncle. Ripping another wound open as our second father left the earth.
Our father died in 1979, victim of a freak accident. None of us had a chance to say goodbye then, but it left a gaping maw of a black hole in the center of our lives. My uncle, my father's brother, became the new head of the collective family. Though he never tried to take over his brother's place, he was quiet and supportive, and always there for anything we needed. He was the proverbial wise man, the one we went to for advice and support, for help in time of need, for anything, really. He'd never married, never had children of his own, and perhaps it would have been too overwhelming for him had he done so, because in reality he had 7 children already. He took care of his father, and was taking care of his sister as well, a man never to shirk his family obligation even when he wasn't feeling well himself. It always felt like he took great care of everyone...except himself.
He hadn't been feeling well for a while now, suffering through COPD, and still remaining too stubborn to use his oxygen regularly. He was grumpy most of the time, having too much to deal with when it came to taking care of his sister and the ongoing battle concerning the long term care options not only for her but for her disabled son. It was a gigantic strain on him, but not one that was up for discussion. I mostly tried to stay out of his way, knowing that being around a school aged child made me possibly lethal to him by way of contaminating him with the common cold. But he was always there, always just 4 houses away all my life, and this morning I feel the knowledge of that new emptiness keenly. I want to be happy the end to his suffering, knowing how much he despised laboring to breathe. I know how he hated seeing himself decline, becoming feeble, and increasingly reliant on others to help. I want to know that watching him struggle to die was his birth into a new kind of life. But in the wake of losing someone you love, all it feels like is the cold ashes of a previously magnificent fire that you adored only a few hours ago.
I held strong mostly all day, shedding some tears at the hospital with the rest of my siblings. But I did have my moment to lose it tonight, and Malcolm was there to talk me back from the worst of it. It's the dance that lovers do, and not only in bed. His heart circles around mine, warms it, nurtures it. He's my confidante, my friend, my lover, and my heart. There is still so much to do this week before we say our final goodbyes to my uncle on Friday. I have more tears to cry, more memories to revisit. I'm so grateful, in the face of this staggering loss, that my family is here for each other, and that my love is here for me.
I love you, Uncle Norm. Peace, Happiness, and say hiya to dad for us.
They were taking him out on a stretcher when I got there. He was intubated, a fairly decent sign. My aunt was confused, her Alzheimer's making her unable to grasp the gravity of the situation, not letting her remember after 5 minutes or so what had transpired. She didn't remember that she was the one that called 911. She couldn't remember why her brother was not in the house. But she could remember that something was WRONG, and it ate at her, making her wring her hands and ask me, "What happened? Where is he?" And then quietly asking "Is he dead?" "He stopped breathing ma taunte....you were brave and called the ambulance for him....he's going to the hospital now....no, he's not dead."
My niece, shaking and frozen, was so relieved that SOMEONE was there. Her mom showed up next, and I told them to go to the hospital, that I would stay with my aunt. And I started making the phone calls to family. Those phone calls that are all about delivering bad news before the bad news is final. "His heart stopped, he wasn't breathing....he's intubated....He's a DNR....." And then it was MY turn to get that call "You gotta come to the hospital, and you gotta get here fast. You gotta get ma taunte here too. He's coming off the support, it won't be long."
So we were all with him, in his final moments. All there to bear witness to his passing, to struggle with him, let him feel our boundless love for him, and let him know it was ok to let go. We held him, tried to comfort him, prayed, and cried. And we let him go, this man, our uncle. Ripping another wound open as our second father left the earth.
Our father died in 1979, victim of a freak accident. None of us had a chance to say goodbye then, but it left a gaping maw of a black hole in the center of our lives. My uncle, my father's brother, became the new head of the collective family. Though he never tried to take over his brother's place, he was quiet and supportive, and always there for anything we needed. He was the proverbial wise man, the one we went to for advice and support, for help in time of need, for anything, really. He'd never married, never had children of his own, and perhaps it would have been too overwhelming for him had he done so, because in reality he had 7 children already. He took care of his father, and was taking care of his sister as well, a man never to shirk his family obligation even when he wasn't feeling well himself. It always felt like he took great care of everyone...except himself.
He hadn't been feeling well for a while now, suffering through COPD, and still remaining too stubborn to use his oxygen regularly. He was grumpy most of the time, having too much to deal with when it came to taking care of his sister and the ongoing battle concerning the long term care options not only for her but for her disabled son. It was a gigantic strain on him, but not one that was up for discussion. I mostly tried to stay out of his way, knowing that being around a school aged child made me possibly lethal to him by way of contaminating him with the common cold. But he was always there, always just 4 houses away all my life, and this morning I feel the knowledge of that new emptiness keenly. I want to be happy the end to his suffering, knowing how much he despised laboring to breathe. I know how he hated seeing himself decline, becoming feeble, and increasingly reliant on others to help. I want to know that watching him struggle to die was his birth into a new kind of life. But in the wake of losing someone you love, all it feels like is the cold ashes of a previously magnificent fire that you adored only a few hours ago.
I held strong mostly all day, shedding some tears at the hospital with the rest of my siblings. But I did have my moment to lose it tonight, and Malcolm was there to talk me back from the worst of it. It's the dance that lovers do, and not only in bed. His heart circles around mine, warms it, nurtures it. He's my confidante, my friend, my lover, and my heart. There is still so much to do this week before we say our final goodbyes to my uncle on Friday. I have more tears to cry, more memories to revisit. I'm so grateful, in the face of this staggering loss, that my family is here for each other, and that my love is here for me.
I love you, Uncle Norm. Peace, Happiness, and say hiya to dad for us.
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