Mourning and loss isn’t an illness. We don’t want to recover from it. We don’t expect to recover. We do, of course, hope to get past the initial shock and sadness. But the loss, that’s now and forever. The loss is permanent. Burt’s not coming back. I mourn that loss. It saddens me to have toContinue reading “Burt and I”
Author Archives: TheRealTamara
Quiet
The house is very empty without Burt’s presence. After he passed, I changed its configuration, flipping bedroom for livingroom. There is a kind of hush over both rooms. In many ways, it doesn’t feel like it was his house these last few years. Well, that’s not completely true; actually the big brown chair – hisContinue reading “Quiet”
We are humble
This is not a brag Caregiving carries with it a grand responsibility. Rather than make us grandiose, it humbles us. One of my caregiver friends is as thrilled by the purple umbrella she gifted herself as a diva is by pearls, champagne and fancy chocolates. No diva, but a queen of caring. My own experienceContinue reading “We are humble”
I found it!
My tendency to clear away clutter is anti-sentimental. I tend to remove the unworn from my closets. It’s a slightly brutal approach. I am delighted that I didn’t dispose of all my unused keepsakes so cavaliarly. We were- I can’t remember why- at the Met store in Rockefeller Center. Browsing. Somehow, Burt managed to sneakContinue reading “I found it!”
Love you. Love you more.
Love does not have a finite value. My love for Burt, unconditional, and I am sure he loved me more, as he often responded to my declaration of love. I always told him I loved him. When he became ill, this affirmation was not just more imperative in the moment, it was also clearer. IContinue reading “Love you. Love you more.”
When I met Burt
Burt lamented that his address had changed from 555 West 42nd Street when mgmt put the front entry on W43rd. [Note that they have given the address to the ensite theater, see below.] Soon after we met, his address changed again from the 500 block in midtown west to the 500 block on E72nd. WhileContinue reading “When I met Burt”
I heart you
Burt understood that when I bought him yet another hat, or one more shirt, it meant I loved him. It’s the heart is a materialistic muscle approach but I did buy him colorful garb out of love. I wanted him dressed in nice shirts or hats he loved. I knew the hats [especially] would pleaseContinue reading “I heart you”
In a world gone mad
In a world gone mad, perhaps No madder, crazier than it has Been building – puffing itself up To, a world askew, I dream of You sitting by my left shoulder, When I awake disappointed to Find you gone, this feels sane, Missing you in a world turned Mad by liars, confidence men, Swindlers andContinue reading “In a world gone mad”
Remembering
Keeping memories alive requires little effort; something will spark recall; often it will be random. It also takes concentration as random things pop in then out. I regret the lapses as much as I treasure the remembrances. Let’s be frank, the lapses are far more wrenching. They bring out guilt– how could I forget? — missingContinue reading “Remembering”
If only we could
There are moments in my grief that I just want Burt back. I wish he were here. It’s an ache in my bones, my heart, behind my eyes. I know it is just grief and missing him, that hurt I am feeling. He’s better off, given the progression of his illness. It was time. But,Continue reading “If only we could”
this is our life 