A Widow’s Journey

April 2024

A Widow’s Journey is a blog following Gagoghs’ Widow beginning in the days leading up to his death.

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April 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th

2024:

May / June / July / August / September / October / November / December /

April 26th, 2024

Today was difficult. Patrick’s been expressing his experience with his body. He hasn’t been able to fully understand how sick he actually is. He’s been expressing waves of intense anxiety and then low spells where he almost feels like his body is going to totally give out on him. When he was in those low points today, which was frequent, he fell into a meditative state to center himself and bring himself back into his body. His body is going through rapid physical shifts. It’s taking so much energy for him to navigate.

He’s trying to keep as balanced as possible to finish out his work. He finished out tonight with a statement speaking about how he’s thought of leaving me a letter, but that it feels incorrect to him because it’s a disservice to being fully present with me. We started the day with me varnishing the last coat on “Vivisection self portrait,” and the first coat onto “Catch a cold,” and sat waiting for it to completely set before I put it back on the wall. This is a big task. We’re in the desert, it is windy, the bugs will come out soon enough, and we need to beat the bugs through varnishing all his work. We also have to photograph them all as well. This is a very big task. I’m having to dilligently examine every square centimeter of the surface throughout the initial 15 minute drying period between coats and be sure no bugs, dust or hair make their way into the coating. When they do, I utilize a pair of tweezers to remove the seemingly microscopic debris.

My eyes are tired as I am in need of a renewed glasses prescription, and my own glasses are scratched. We have to mount the fan on some wood against the door frame to allow for sufficient ventilation during the coating process, and then I have to pray that the winds have die down enough to transfer the paintings into the car set upon a seat without any further debris finding itself tacked to its surface. I’m so honored to hold this important role, and to be trusted in it. I also am enjoying the meticulous intimacy with every painting. It’s becoming a sort of ritual.

He’s almost completed the first triptych, just a few touch ups. To celebrate he suggested we go out to The Love Apple. (A top notch restaurtant in Taos, NM) That’s where we went for dinner today. I varnished, he sketched out the side panels for his second triptych, shaved, I cleaned up, and got myself all purty. Who knows if this’ll be the last time we go out into the world together. Not only that, this is a romantic occasion. Those are rare experiences to share with him. Though we’re present with one another at all times, the romance was never something he was interested in participating in. This felt like a farewell gift from him.

While we were celebrating him, he was wanting to take me out on a semi-lavish dinner to help support that romantic side of me. When he’d get up from the table to use the restroom, I sat admiring the chapel space, thanking God for these ample gifts of abundance. Tears streaming down my face full of gratitude and grief. He’d return and we’d gently smile at one another. Toasting to our well fortunes and graceful stoicism through such a profound time.

No amount of checking in and nudging nor insistences from me or his best friend, John, to get checked out by a doctor is going to be entertained by him. He’s expressed with amplitude how stressful the entire diagnosis process in the state of New Mexico and that he only has energy enough to paint and be with me. Anything or everything else is simply unnecessary. So I massage his knee when he asks, heat up his water bottle and insist he put a rag between the hot water bottle and his back so he doesn’t get a burn. An he’ll ignore the sentiments and result in 2nd degree burn on his lower back. He’s also been refusing aloe treatments as well. The stubborn fool. He says it’s been helping to relax his lower back. Every time I offer a full body massage, he says, “sure but not now.” What am I going to do with this man? I love him so, but he fights certain aspects of me trying to take initiative in his care.

I think this is part of his struggle with his human dignity. When I offer “too much” help, it makes him feel like an invalid, and that’s degrading enough as it is for a man who’s been so damn capable and independent his whole life. Not to mention fit as fuck. I understand the push and pull of that. And I’m doing the best I can to be here for him. He’s essentially getting more support from my physical proximity. To have me on call in the event he may need me suddenly, and the occasional minimal service on top of our other tasks to prepare to leave the house. It’s a lot. I’m doing the best I can, but sometimes the grief of this experience is causing harm to my own nervous system. This is hard. I need to rest just as much.

I’m going to keep showing up and being kind to myself and him as much as possible. We’re going to have fun as much as we can, as we have been. We’ll make each other giggle, and cheer each other on. I’ll meditate, exercise, and get as disciplined as I can. Thanks for reading. Goodnight. We love you.

April 27th, 2024

This morning is rainy. The plants outside will enjoy that. It’s a baby blue grey. The pitter patter of rain is echoing through the house. I awoke to a regular pulsing chirp from what sounded like a wren just outside the door. It’s too humid to varnish today with the rain. The WIFI is out, so no work on the website is to be had. No research is to be had.

We turned off the WIFI and the refrigerator. Writing is going to utilize quite a bit of power from my laptop, so if I’m going to write, it’ll be on my phone. I can always cut and paste into an email to myself. I really should have a backup of my laptop again soon. I need to backup all my photographs into one drive as well so I can do photo editing. And create that catalog of all of Patrick’s works. That’s going to require a lot of laptop power as well. I don’t want to put Patrick’s painting lights in danger due to this beautiful baby blue grey outside. So today is meditation, reading, cleaning, and you know what? I need to box up his drawings and all, but I also need to photograph them first. So not yet. I will exercise and maybe do some writing?

I’m so blessed to be in this position, to not have to work. To have a roof over my head that my husband built with his own hands. Yes we have to leave it soon, and I may be vacating on my own the way things are going, but this sacred place has served as a beautiful harbor from which I’ve been able to explore self love and all the iterations that can come from such freedoms. I recognize not very many have this opportunity, and I’m so grateful for the agreement Patrick has had with the ‘Property Owners’ declared as such by the United States Government.

Up until now, the estate agreement has held up on both ends. Patrick has been tired of being taken advantage of through the agreement, though, and has, in recent years, been gradually standing up for himself. It wasn’t until his energy has been so drastically depleted that he’s been trying to assert his end of the bargain that he’s upheld with integrity. Caren doesn’t seem to like that, as it doesn’t keep him where she wants him to be, which is in service at her beck and call, much like a slave. She’s been trying to bully him into a new agreement where he pays them rent for a house they’ve never had to pay property taxes on, as they never took accountability for the responsibility to do such. Our presence on their property hasn’t cost them a single dime in 9 years. His and my own support for their airbnb business has actually reeled them in a significant cash flow. It wasn’t until he and I both chose to step back away from the position, that she chose to retaliate, and that is not ok.

It’s no coincidence that Caren’s name is the same as my Mother, only spelled differently. She is extremely similar to my own mother. I felt that from the moment I heard about her and her patterns of behavior. IT’s so interesting that I’m being faced with this conflict as a support for my husban. He’s done ample physical labor for them as per their agreement. He’s been caretaker of the land, up until they suddenly declared him as “Not trustworthy,” for absolutely no definable reason. The situation as become untenable but not for any action on our part. She has been seeking to take, without much consideration they for Patrick or his life or health. Any consideration they did have was absolutely disingenuous. The recent circumstances prove that without a shadow of a doubt.

We fought against this for a while here and there, but it was taking too much energy from Patrick to the point it was worsening his health. We finally decided not to move forward with a lawyer, and simply vacate the property. It doesn’t feel good to be where we are no longer welcome.

Friendships have been showing their true colors. Individuals have been showing their true colors. Being faced with the very real prospect of widowhood, and trying to define what my next steps will be, my “best friend” had chosen Zombification over actual presence of mind. “Oh! I thought you were done!” Where his words after I, very factually acknowledged that abruptly bringing up wrestlemania when his “best friend” just expressed a greatly intense vulnerability of facing widowhood was far from an appropriate response.

I sent him a lengthy letter-like message expressing the state of our dynamic. I expressed how I’ve been quite aware of my role in his life as a placeholder for attachment due to his unwillingness to do the work around his own grief with the death of his mother over many years ago. That is his major barrier preventing any genuine connectivity prospects. Everyone in his life is a surface level person. He made a lot of progress with me, but only allowed himself to go so far. We are certainly not compatible friends.

Zanne, a fairly new friend, also showed her true colors when she chose aggression when I was sharing the very tender experience of hearing the voice of God or the universe for the first time. She then chose to attack my choice to limit certain vulnerabilities around her and that it felt “icky” to her. This was the moment I recognized the behavioral pattern which did not allow for a compatible friendship. Distortions and manipulations from undealt with past traumas that she has admitted to me but never actually showed interest in exploring those aspects. Many of her complaints were about others being the problem rather than her assessing her own behaviors. When she broached her concerns with me, I was extremely clear with how well I have treated this new friendship. I never spoke negatively towards her and have always shown up authentically. I spent some time seeking to clarify my own personal accountability in this circumstance, and realized that it was not coming from me at all. I had to end that friendship. I have enough to deal with at home.

These reflections and clearing of friendships is a way for me to clarify what IS meant for me vs. what is not. I’m full of gratitude for that which I have, and do not need more. My seeking for friendships and companions outside of my husband, is from that basic human social need. But spiritually, it’s a lesson in gratitude and abundance. Something that I keep deepening my understanding into as I move through the eye of this needle.

When we remain open to these lessons and humble, it is amazing the expansion we’ll find ourselves launched into. I needed to see the evidence of desperation in the face of someone close, to see the truth from whence it came. The beautiful soul is in so much pain. It’s truly remarkable how she’s been able to endure all that she has and still keep going, and she will I have no doubt about that. What a resilient and beautiful soul she is. I’m so grateful to have shared the time we did together. When I stood up for myself against these manipulations that came from a place of pain with a stoic kindness, I said my goodbyes and left. That felt good. I did not linger in a situation that would have been far more difficult emotionally to navigate because of social etiquette. I left because I needed to leave and was not going to waste any more time. I was not going to betray myself to yet another person between these two people. This was a lesson in my own strength and capacity to use my voice.

Mmmmm Thank you, God.

Janay`

Your Daughter,

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April 28th, 2024

What a cloudy damp morning in the desert! Taos county will always have a romantic place in my heart; the sagebrush, baby pines, verbena, the mountains so majestic peering over the Rio Grande Gorge, and the old man in the mountain that only shows up one week out of the year when every other day he looks like a vulva. Patrick called him, the vagina mountain. Taos mountain off to the east, and behind us is Tres Piedras. The foggy blankets that creep over the desert floor, crossing the canyon and rolling over the mountains are so chill inducing. The caws of the crows echo across the sage. The desert wrens sing. The elk call, and the coyote’s throwing their voices each time they catch their next meal. Watching the long tailed kangaroo mice bouncing on the clay roads in the headlights as we come home and wait to see the floofy tail cross into the bushes. We get pigmy owls, and the Mexican Spotted Owl. I’ve seen an incredibly large species once. I wonder if that was the great barn owl. We get so many species here. They are such a beautiful blessing. The beautiful blue tailed lizards, the horned lizards, desert toads, red velvet ants, fire ants, the green desert scarab, cicadas, grasshoppers, moths, mantids, all of the flies, and the blue tarantula hawk wasps. I’ve had some incredible close counters with the magnificent rattlesnake, while my husband has handled plenty.

This place is teaming with life. In many ways it’s far more interesting than the lives that humans have created to distract from it all. Our attention is being drawn to world current events that are so far out of our own control in so many ways. When we feed into that it keeps us in our fear centers; a quite grotesque reality. Humanity has become a deformed populous in such ways. I’m so lucky to have freed myself from its grip to the point I am no longer a thrall to it though it is not due to luck that this occurred. My own seeking nature was the catalist where I have been able to discover creative ways to perceive and explore the world.

I’m so grateful to have this time with each painting the way that I am. I’ve varnished the rest of “catch a cold,” “irony,” and started, “Self Portrait.” My lower back is not happy enough to finish the last 2 layers for the last one. I’m so tired though. Phew. They’re all setting for the next hour before I put them in the car to cure overnight. I should be able to finish “self portait,” and varnish 2 large paintings tomorrow, I hope. I might not be able to with my back the way it is. I really have no choice but to exercise and stretch every day, so maybe 2 paintings a day? Not susre. We’ll have to see. We ahve to varnish all of the paintings first before photographing all of them. Phew this certainly is a monumental task.

(VERY LATE THAT NIGHT)

It’s after Midnight. Patrick’s muscles keep deteriorating. Switching to a more protein rich diet has been staving that deterioration off for the past couple of weeks, but it’s still deteriorating at a rapid pace. This is difficult to watch. He really is imbuing his life energy into his work. Any suggestion of medical intervention is outright refused. He’s accepting his illness, whatever it is. He seems ready for what’s coming. I’m doing the best that I can, and I really wish he’d let me do more. Any extra actions I take to try and support him, he won’t accept. He’ll only accept receiving when he asks for specific support.

I really have no clue how he is animating his body the way that he is with the level of muscle deterioration I’ve been seeing and feeling when I rub his body down at night. He won’t even let me rub his whole body down either. He’s such a stubborn man, but I love him. He’s beautiful in all ways. He’s kind and selfless in an abundance of ways and unapologetically selfish in the right kinds of ways. He’s using all of life force to animate his body, and his body is activating such an insane amount of adrenaline to help him do what he has to. He really should not be animating his body the way he is. He’s working from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. and later at times, and his body is in conflict with his unbelievably strong will. I’ve never seen a will so strong as this. If he can do that, I can varnish his paintings and bend my body over like a hunchback for hours on end.

We fought for a while here and there, but it was taking too much energy from Patrick to the point it was worsening his health. We finally decided not to move forward with a lawyer, and simply vacate the property. It doesn’t feel good to be where we are no longer welcome.

Still it’s not easy. I’m thinking of honoring him with the cosmic corridor tattoo on the same shoulder as his when he passes. Yeah. This ain’t no joke alright. Life doesn’t stop for anyone or anything. It continues no matter what in any form it can try to take. I have no choice but to exercise through this to keep my body strong because when it finally hits, I want to be ready for it. It’s so difficult to touch his body and massage what little muscle he does have left. I’m being reminded that these bodies are not us. Flesh is disturbing me tremendously right now for that very reason. I once imagined that when it would happen, I’d hold his body in anguish, but he definitely doesn’t want that because his body is not the individual but an extension of self. And once that which makes us who we are vacates the vessel it is a hunk of scraps as far as he’s concerned. He told me explicitly that if he goes in his sleep, he does not want me to touch his body.

He wants his vessel cremated with nothing fancy. I’m going to want to hold a service of some sort to honor him, but who knows where that will be, or who might come for it. He’s kept to himself as much as he could and stayed out of human made up dramas as much as possible. Yeah I”m having a hard time with this right now. I need to get some sleep so I can wake up early enough to have some coffee, duo bring in the paintings from earlier today, strech/exrecise, clean, seal the screen door again, and start to varnish as much as I can through the day, then make a nice hearty dinner.

He’s been eating well thanks to my meals. I think that along with his will is what’s keeping him going as much as he is. I think he’s finally starting to come around to his body’s decay, and is allowing himself to have shorter shifts. His fear is laying down and dying. That’s not something he’s ever been able to do. He’s a painter and he paints, but he’s pushing right up on his limits. We’ll see how these next days play out. He has 2 more panels to finish at the very least. Let’s get them done. This is a lovely triptych he’s working on. His hands have started shaking because his muscles are degrading so drastically.

I’ve just looked up his symptoms, and it really seems to be wasting syndrome? I can’t diagnose because I’m not a doctor, but it’s fitting his symptoms. This has been happening for some time now, and it says if the patient stops responding to treatments they usually have about 3 months to live. I’ve got no idea how long he has left. If he continues to work as he is, I’m in constant anticipation of waking up to him having passed in his sleep, or I go upstairs and find his paintbrush still in his hand. I can’t be sure. I’m just going to do the best I can for him and for myself in the meantime.

On that note, I’m going to fall asleep petting his left leg. It’s been ailing him something fierce because an old scar has been inflamed due to the fascia degradation in the muscles around it causing tension in his tendons. It’s the knee he messed up when he was younger while skating. I massage that as much as I can to make him comfortable and give him some relief but I don’t know how effective it is anymore. Have a goodnight. I love you.

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A Widow's Journey

April 29th, 2024

I’m going to go back to sleep soon. Yesterday, I had a lot of fun. I kind of just accepted what is and figured I might as well have fun with it. I joked, I played. I tried to varnish but the cans weren’t cooperating yesterday. We found out you have to clear the nozzle before and after each use and the cans should be at warmer temperatures when using them. They get cold through frequent usage so utilizing multiple cans will be to our advantage. I have to coat the paintings agin today. I think I’ll coat “Self Portrait” and “The Thinker” again, and then atually utililize one or two of the smaller paintings from upstairs. I can’t fit 2 large paintings in my car at this point in addition to self portrait.

I also have to go into town to clean my car this week at teh very very least. So even if Patrick can’t spare me for my appointment, I’ll have to head to town for that. i realized yesterday that I’e always been a writer since I was a kid. Stories were what kept me company more than music. Music was a passion that gave me an outlet for expression, but I somehow could predict twists and turns in stories very easily as I grew older. Between reading books and watching movies, I’ve become a total pro. I saw certain major plot events of the twilight series come at me like haymakers. Yeah I watched them. It was fun to laugh at how bad they were.

Patrick finally shared just how ill he is with John, and he responded with such grace and love. I really do love that man. He’s been such a beautiful support to Patrick through the divorce and beyond. I’ll be so blessed to share time with him afterward. And it’s really been beautiful to reconnect with Jeovani. I’ve always had such love for him. We connect on so many levels, and always have had an easy time relating with one another when he would allow for it. It’s very nice to have a friend I can trust.

Everyone else just communicates to achieve their agendas, and inadvertently lie to themselves through those communications. It’s evident in their capacity for integrity in their follow through. Patrick and I have joked about future partners for me over the years. That’s a thought in the back of my mind that feels strange to think on, but when we talk lately about it I feel more comfortable because he’s discussing it with me from a place of love and care for me. I’ve recently asked him, “Did I help you near as much as you’ve helped me?” And he looked at me as though I’d gutted him. “Of course you have. More than you will ever know.” So in those thoughts, I know that when I do share myself with someone in the future, it’ll be done with integrity and the utmost of care.

We’ve been preparing for him to pass, and it’s a lot. He’s expressed how he doesn’t feel like he’ll be able to be around to see much of the to do list, and I’ve been wracking my brain to identify all of what is needed, but I’m too overwhelmed to thing about this right now. I do need to get back to sleep for about an hour or so. We made love last night. Even though his body is wasting away, he’s still just so beautiful to me. I’m not sure how much of my perception is accurate. My love and attraction for him may be distorting my perspective of his actual condition. There are little things though that are noticeably significant to help me to realize the severity of his condition. I caught myself in the “If only” phase of thinking yesterday. “If only he’d gotten to a doctor sooner, this might’ve been avoided.” thoughts like that, but those thoughts do not serve me.

It has been quite frustrating. I didn’t look up his symptoms before because he couldn’t properly vocalize them to me. And if he’d had, he still wouldn’t have gone. I tried not to make myself crazy with looking up his symptoms at his request. He doesn’t want to concern himself with it. So I looked them up day before last and yesterday morning and came to wasting syndrome. His body isn’t metabolizing nutrients effectively anymore and so it is literally eating itself in order to function. It’s starting to affect his cognition. He mentioned that last night. It shouldn’t be too much longer now. Could be a week or less. I’m ready to say goodbye, but not at the same time.

I really am in awe of how he’s been capable of willing himself to live his life all the way. I can only hope to live my own life in kind. Ugh! My insides are going to spill out from my belly button! I don’t want to go back to sleep because to hear his weight shifting upstairs is that much more life I get to experience. There’s a bird clicking outside periodically and is now calling in a light low and quick whistle. I don’t recall hearing this bird before.

Ok. Today, I think I need to clean, feed him bunches, and get my act together. I know I need to varnish. I need to organize my thoughts into a list of things I still need to do, before I leave. We still have to photograph, and package the varnished paintings. I have to finish varnishing. We have to sell the vehicles and I have to get a new car and trailer to haul things. I have to find a climate controled storage unit. I don’t know how useful I’ll be immediately following. I should probably identify the right phone numbers to call. Develop a clear to do list to help me function afterwards.

I am incredibly terrified for how loud this silence will be. Our short time together has been far more potent and fulfilling than many long term marriages who spend much of their time binge watching streaming services and frivolous entertainment. I’m ready for anew adventure with my own company, but, my God, this prospect is horrifying. Well this reality is and isn’t tangible. And I know that statement is only going to be enhanced in the days following.

How will I be affected by the outside world? How many people will blame me for not intervening? How many people will think I killed him? How many people will show me much more unkindness than I’ve ever seen? Will I care? of course not. I haven’t done all of this work for nothing. Will it be easy? No. How many people will show me such an abundance of kindness? I’m about to cross the threshold of a totally unprecedented phase of my life, that I am entirely under and over prepared for. I am going to LIVE despite it. I am going to thrive! This is not going to break me, but jettison me into a new era of maturity. I thought I was mature for my age before? HA! I ain’t seen nothing yet!

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