Today I found out that the fiance of my friend Sara passed away last night.
When Sara developed cancer 7 years ago, Don was good to her, but he never provided the support she needed. Three years ago Sara and I were working at the American Cancer Society's Relay For Life in our town. Sara said that Don thought she was "morbid" to participate in the event.
Don was very controlling, and sometimes he just nagged the heart out of Sara. She couldn't go anywhere without his permission, and he made some very cruel remarks to her that when she repeated them to me, I wanted to go after him with a baseball bat.
You can guess the cause of Don's death: cancer. It was very fast, and three weeks after the initial diagnosis, he was dead.
Don left no will, no provisions for Sara at all, and the house and car were in his name only.
I wish Sara had posted to this site. Perhaps she could have gained some strength and good advice, and not felt so isolated.
This afternoon, when I heard about Don's death, I called a mutual friend. We talked for about 15 minutes, and the most terrible thing was that neither of us could say one thing nice about Don.
And we really did try.
This is the reason that Don's death really hit me. A few weeks ago, I had gotten a call from my late husband's youngest brother, Bobby, letting me know that his father, Jack, had passed away. This had been the first I had heard from my in-laws since my husband passed away in 2003.
They wanted me to come to the funeral, mainly because there would be so few people there.
And they also wanted to convey the message (repeated a couple of times) that all of Jack's money "was used up by the nursing home." Bobby seemed to take great pains to get that across.
Jack was so verbally cruel to his oldest son, my sweet husband, that I found it hard to mourn him, and it looks like most people felt the same way. In spite of that, I said all the right words to Bobby and signed the on-line guest book with the appropriate sentiment.
The message about the money was a needless jab. When I told Bobby about losing my job four years ago, he was anxious to establish that I really didn't need anything now that I'd gotten another job, even though it paid a whole lot less.
It was a funny conversation, because Bobby never asked why I had not called during the years between my husband's death and Jack's death. Not once. The reason that I had not called to let them know I was in such dire straits was that I was afraid they would think I wanted a handout, and I didn't want to bother them. I was so careful of their feelings of grief over losing a beloved brother.
Lucky me: not calling them had allowed me to retain my good, if foolish, opinion of them.
Then Bobby asked exactly when my husband had died.
I gave him the date, made some more appropriate noises, and hung up the phone.
Now this death, today, of someone else who will be mourned but little.
It is so important to be kind, to be caring. You have to be generous in spirit, in loving-kindness. You have to love those around you and show each one that he or she is special to you and to the world. Otherwise, why are you here? Why did God create you? Surely not to be someone who passes from the world with so little left behind in the way of remembered good!
I apologize for such a long post, but today has been one that I need some help to get through.
