?

Log in

June 2016   01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30
Leviathan meets the Incredible Hulk

I, sir, am no Jack Kennedy

Posted on 2007.06.08 at 08:48
Current Mood: Still sad


I don't actually think that walking a mile three times a week is as important as putting men on the moon, and returning them safely to Earth.

But it would have been easy as hell to use being sad about "M'sieur le Beebairs!" as an excuse not to do it today... But it would have been using him as an excuse. So I went.

Comments:


Jenna: fomerly chocolate_coins
jennashaped at 2007-06-08 13:52 (UTC) (Link)
Youtube won't let me view your video, but I must say how very proud I am of you for going anyway. Your drive is very impressive....
Jonathan Andrew Sheen
leviathan0999 at 2007-06-08 14:04 (UTC) (Link)
Well, I don't know why YouTube's being a bitch about it. Hopefully it will be up soon.

I can't imagine a way I could dishonor his memory more than for him to be an excuse for me to fail. I won't do that to either of us!
Tired McSleepystein
qedrakmar at 2007-06-08 14:42 (UTC) (Link)
I don't actually think that walking a mile three times a week is as important as putting men on the moon, and returning them safely to Earth.

Alas, it is, however, still important. I'd like to state that I'm proud of you for keeping at it, and that you're still doing more than I am... Keep it up, mang!
Jonathan Andrew Sheen
leviathan0999 at 2007-06-08 14:46 (UTC) (Link)
Keeping it up is all I can do. One step at a time.

Thanks for the support, dude!
xedra
xedra at 2007-06-08 18:40 (UTC) (Link)
I am So incredibly proud of you!
(((HUGS)))
Jonathan Andrew Sheen
leviathan0999 at 2007-06-08 21:40 (UTC) (Link)
Thanks, babe!
mythicvictory
mythicvictory at 2007-06-08 19:36 (UTC) (Link)

****HUGS JON & HIS FAMILY***********

I wish I knew something profound to say to help you feel better. I really don't. I know that no one ever tells you it's just gonna hurt for a long time. The hurt really doesn't get better, either. It's like learning to live with a sore tooth, or a game knee. As humans, we have a gift for getting used to things. Especially the painful ones.
That being said, it does get better. We go forward because it's the only way to go. We don't get points for style, effort or best race. We refocus on the good, remember who we lost and try to lose the bad memories and treasure the good ones. We find closure in everyday little things, great sunbeams, soft breezes, belly laughs from children.
After a few years, it won't automatically hurt to remember. The pain of the loss never goes away, but with enough time we find the grace in ourselves, our remaining loved ones, and our life to go on.
And that was a honking huge step you made in that direction today, sir. I'm proud of you, you show the markings of a natural!!

When I was going through my goth/angst phase as a teen, I once asked my mother, with high over-dramatics "Why live?"
She wryly replied; "It beats the hell out of the alternative."


At the end of the day, she was right. We honor those who die by living on and remembering them.
Sounds easy, eh? It's not, it sucks for a long time, then gets better. And really does beat the hell out of the alternative.

Hang in there, big guy.

Mel
Jonathan Andrew Sheen
leviathan0999 at 2007-06-08 21:53 (UTC) (Link)

Re: ****HUGS JON & HIS FAMILY***********

Oh, Mel, thank you so much.

I'm actually doing better than I expected to at this point.

I remember how he lay in my wife's arms, being loved and petted as he passed, and while I'm selfishly aggrieved that I won't have him with me anymore, I'm so grateful that he had the passing he deserved.

The day my father passed away, I went to work. When asked why I was doing that, I replied that staying home wouldn't make him any less dead.

Today, I stayed home to help my wife. I went bright and early and walked my walk (then talked my talk, because it's part of the deal now) but then came home to her. For half the day, Beebee lay in state, looking peaceful curled up in the cardboard box I'd chosen for him, his head on a folded towel that he never needed. He felt cold and stiff to the touch, and was clearly no longer home. That was for the benefit of the other cats and the bear-shaped dog, but it was a help to me as well, I think, and we brought the remains to the vet around noon. We'll be receiving his ashes in what I'm told is a lovely wooden box, and if that helps bring my wife more peace, then it's all to the good.

For myself, I'm sad, and there are tears, but I'm doing OK. Hearts are for breaking. The pain will fade. His love never will.
Previous Entry  Next Entry