Two Weeks Notice...Aloha

John L. Bove Two Weeks Notice… Aloha © 2011 John L. Bove All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. Printed in the United States of America. Acknowledgments To the many people who have helped through this grieving process, Lester, Norwood, The Sisters of Presentation of Mary at Marie Joseph, especially Sister Aline who shed light on forgiveness. Geoffrey, and Jon for being there for me. Father Greenleaf, and Father Lupo; Mary, my new and special friend who has encouraged me for months to continue. I would be remiss if I didn’t thank Dee, who rescued me from a fatal computer error. Special thanks to Lynn Morgan who graciously edited the text all the way from Hawaii. (Parenthetically, any grammatical and spelling errors which remain are due to the extensive number of changes which were made following her editing). And, Jenni (burdened with her own grief over her mother’s passing she kept the home fires burning) who helped in more ways than she knows, and without whom the pictures in the “Journal” would never have happened. FOR FRAN WITH ENDURING LOVE Forward My friend, my love, my companion, my best and most fair critic, my conscience, my life with whom I shared all for 57 years departed ‘forever’ on May 24, 2010. I am left with rage and grief, lost in the here and now. The sun is not so bright…the sliver of a new moon is not so promising for its growth into the luminous full moon…the rain on a roof is not so musical…the wonder of the ocean no longer grips me with its beauty and vast expanse…the fall leaves will not be so colorful. These were my thoughts for many months. “Have pity on me, O Lord, for I am languishing; heal me, O Lord, for my body is in terror: my soul too, is utterly terrified…” (Psalm 6:2,3) There is no one to fully share. There is no quiet laugh at an ‘inside’ joke. The quick hug which says, ‘I’m sorry,’ or ‘I love you’ has gone. There is a vacuum which I struggle not to enter. I can’t reach over for her hand while driving and have her place her hand in mine and give it a squeeze, which means ‘I love you honey,’ and then holding on for a few silent minutes. I am constantly under attack from the unseen demons of grief. “I am wearied with sighing; every night I flood my bed with weeping…” (Psalm 6:7) The above was written before I completed my journal. The next few paragraphs after I finished it. My rage has subsided (it is contained). I understand more deeply the meaning of true forgiveness. It has been difficult. Given time I think I will be ii ~ John L. Bove able to forgive myself. I will never stop grieving, but my grief has taken a healthier direction. “…but I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment…” (Matthew 5:22) I “visited” Fran on Christmas, 2010, sat down and had a nice conversation for about 45 minutes, smoked a good cigar and had some peace. I made a large swag from the numerous firs in our yard, tied a big red ribbon on it and lashed it to the small tree which is by our stone. It was the first time since her interment the cemetery—flat, and by the ocean—was totally calm. No wind, even the tree tops were still. The only noise breaking the quiet were the jets taking off and landing at Portland Airport. I was in the eye of the first big storm of the winter. My personal storm has subsided, not ended, but subsided. The emptiness remains, but I understand it better. Aloha Preface This was originally a journal through which I sought to regain some equilibrium and understanding. The loss of Fran turned my world “topsy turvy.” I was so angry and grief stricken it threatened my health. Stress of any kind, left unchecked, attacks the immune system which inevitably leads to illness. Writing gives you a focal point for your anger and grief. Introspective writing, I have discovered, is a lot like meditation. It allows you to view your thoughts much like an outside observer would do. In my case it helped me evaluate the anger, and give thoughtful consideration to my personal environment. It allowed the grief and anger to be brought into focus, and the unforgiveness to be understood. It is a great self-counseling tool. When Joy Lewis passed away C.S. Lewis began a journal which turned into a book: A Grief Observed. Lewis wrote his journal because he feared he was losing his Faith. He is, of course, considered one of the great philosophers and authors of the Twentieth Century. Lewis married Joy late in life. Joy was a widow, and Lewis a confirmed bachelor. Joy expanded Lewis’ universe as Fran did mine. Joy died not long after they were married. Lewis, as I have been, was adrift with grief and anger. His journal was cathartic for him. We were both asking why, and looking for answers. Lewis was questioning his Faith. His anger and resentment and questions were directed, as I understand it, at his Faith. My anger, frustration and unforgiveness were directed toward people. I turned to my iv ~ John L. Bove Faith to buoy me; to carry me through once again as it had after the deaths of our three children—but then Fran was at my side. Lewis’ journal gave him the answers and helped him keep his Faith, mine has softened my anger and resentment and has once again reinforced my Faith. I think both of us used our journals as a memorial to our departed loved ones. The two poems within this text credited to JLB are words over which I had no control. Both flowed from the top of my head, and I believe my pen was guided in some way by Fran. I don’t even remember writing them. I have never written poetry before this other than the “roses are red and violets are blue” kind of stuff. About the Journal The “Journal” is a tribute to Fran. Her priorities were family/ church/community. She immersed herself in her famiy. Fran relished her role as a mother. The inclusion of information about her family and my family seemed necessary as part of defining who Fran is/was. For fifty seven years I tried to be there for her and our children, and I tried my best not to interfere with her methods. I didn’t always agree, and I didn’t always “keep out of it,” but in the end, her instincts seemed to be the correct ones. One of my treasured notes from Fran said: “You’r right—I am SO PROUD OF MY SONS I could burst. And I’m right—you gave me the opportunity to raise them in my own way. It doesn’t matter to me how attentive or whatever they are, just that they ARE as they are—thank you honey for my life that you have saved.” We had been discussing how our boys were developing into independent, responsible and caring human beings, but I had made the comment they didn’t seem so devoted to us as my brothers’ children did to their parents. I had complained they didn’t always show us the respect I thought they should. I can’t remember what she meant by “…my life that you saved.” I sincerely hope there are parts of the “Journal” which might help others in similar circumstances. I have grown through reviewing our life together. I have not yet found the elusive exit to the circle of grief; perhaps there no exit, but just a simple fading of the lines as time passes. Unfortunately a review of a long life together reminds one of many negatives. Luckily the positives outweigh the negatives. vi ~ John L. Bove I know Fran was the greatest intellectual, social, and religious influence in my life. Her Faith rescued me, and helped both of us through many tragedies. In retrospect, although I wish I had done many things differently, I realize I tried my best. What have I learned from this review of our life, and my testimony to how much Fran meant to me? I have learned the depth of understanding she had was more than I knew during our journey… I have learned there is no turning back the clock… I have learned grief, anger, guilt and unforgiveness need to be understood and viewed as objectively as possible or they will destroy you… I have learned one needs to learn from sorrow… I have learned to continue loving… I have learned to continue having patience and faith… I have learned that life does, and must go on… I have learned there is much more to learn. “This existence of ours is as transient as autumn clouds To watch the birth..(or)..death of beings is like looking at the Movements of a dance A lifetime is like a flash of lightning in the sky. Rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain” (1) What follows was rooted in rage, frustration, unforgiveness, and a search for closure. “One cannot justify unjust anger: anger plunges a man to his downfall.” (Ecclesiasticus 1:19)) FRANCES M.

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