A few people have noticed that posts have been a bit off-schedule and some columns have just cut out altogether over the last few months. I promised myself that when the time came that I could no longer keep to my once-a-day minimum, that I would put the column on a hiatus. Why? What’s this I’m going on all about? What the bloody hell is a “hiatus”!
To explain why I need to stop full-time involvement with the site, I need to explain why I haven’t missed a day on the site since it began nearly two years ago and in it, have steadfastly refused to talk about my personal life, except when I’d randomly allude to something awful which we definitely weren’t talking about. No talking about it here! Nope! LALALA! Cannot hear you! I actually thought my last post on the site might be My Favorite Scene: Big Fish. My wife, Jan, has, since that fantastic night, been my movie buddy and best friend and the best wife anyone could ask for the 4.5 years we dated and 7.5 years we’ve been married.
My wife is a cancer survivor from her twenties and I’ve always lived in fear of a recurrence. Around 2008 or so she became sick a lot, but it was a cough and no doctors we went to connected it to her previous cancer. Then 3.5 years ago they did. The diagnosis was terminal from the start and they gave her 2-4 months. My wife has, since the DOOM DIAGNOSIS of May 2011, lasted over 3.5 years…until the last time we went to the hospital she deteriorated so quickly and so completely that the doctors wouldn’t offer anything more than palliative care. So she’s been in a hospice facility for two weeks and it’s incredibly nice and the nurses take fantastic care of her, but they’re talking days, maybe weeks. Two weeks later they’re more talking along the line of hours and days, perhaps a week, but they’re discharging her home nonetheless.
Killing Time was my wife’s idea after I tried therapy to deal with the hard time I was having with the diagnosis and working full-time. I didn’t want to talk about the cancer or my feelings about the cancer, so she said go back to writing and just keep it strictly about the stuff we love. So I did and what began as a therapy exercise, has turned into a decent-sized blog, an outlet for my writing, a way to discipline myself to write every day, no matter what and has led me to meet some awesome people, and make lifelong friends. Now, as I’m coming to the end of my life with Jan, trying to figure out what my future even looks like, and though I’ve seen KT though some terribly hard times and written many a column in a chair in a hospital room, now with hospice and the imminence of things, I’ve had a very hard time staying focused on anything, though continuing Killing Time for nearly a month since my wife’s second “but this time we really mean it” terminal diagnosis, has been helpful. Jan also warned me as the blog got bigger than I’d ever intended that I shouldn’t let it become an obligation that destroyed the joy it’s brought me in its best times.
As most of professional medicine has been made utter fools of by my wife and her ability to throw mental monkey feces at their attempts to diagnose her, they do continue to make them, and I find myself finding less and less of her at home in a body clearly now merely serving as a tiny elevator for a soul bound to be outfitted with wings. Her life is joyful. Her life has been a celebration of joy and – especially – the arts and this column is not dedicated to her…it IS her writ small, for nothing I could write could sculpt with words the fun it is to discuss anything at all in the world with her.
I used this blog to fight the anticipatory grief of losing her that was threatening my daily functionality. I don’t know what I’m going to do after this, but she’d be utterly disappointed in me if I didn’t, when I felt well enough, start to write the odd column for it again and then take on more and more slowly until I’ve returned it to its peak. On our first date, we saw Big Fish; on our last – Guardians of the Galaxy. It has been a wonderful life in movies and together. I won’t lie. I cannot picture a future one in which she doesn’t exist, but she will. She’ll live on a billion private jokes that will make me smile and I’d like to think in-between her angelic duties she’d be happy to read some movie reviews and to know that they were only being written because I missed her and was sending, through a few paragraphs, a tiny love letter heaven-bound for her amusement.
So please, keep on reading and commenting on the old columns. I’ll respond to comments. I’ll return slowly, when I do. I am certain I will. She’d have wanted that, and I think it will be healthy for me when I’ve reached a certain point of healing. Thank you all for making this so much fun and such a pleasure for her to read; something for us to share. I will return. My wife, though she may get wicked cool wings and may simply smile on our silliness from afar, will never leave. I love you, Jannie. Not half as much as yesterday, but not half as much as I will tomorrow. I’ll see you all back here soon. Thank you so much.