We both believed in the KISS Principle – K. I. S. S., Keep It Short & Simple – so I will.

She is at peace and so am I. She Earned her rest with a magnificent fight and an inspirational life. Her children will now carry on.

At 5:06 A.M. on the 23rd of February a light went out on Earth, and in my heart. Perhaps a star blinked on in the heavens. Its name was Minou.

I can’t stop crying. One month past Minou, one day past Natasha, today the ashes in the Antilles – I can’t stop crying. And yet there has been joy too. Christine and Guillaume have been a joy, a pillar, a godsend – even though we make each other cry. Many people in France have been warm and good. My original family has been superb. Three days ago the Vernal Equinox, and even now a few sprouts of normalcy. But I can’t stop bawling. They say these things come in three – that’s fine as long as the third is me.

No, I am not suicidal – but I am old and I am tired. I’ve worked hard and very long. I deserve a rest. I have friends on the other side. I long to sleep with Minou again. I’m ready. A heart attack would be a blessing.

And yet… And yet. I’ve had a fantastic life. The last ten years were the best ever. The decade before that the second best. 35-45 the third best. The curve has always ascended. Of course it can’t continue. There’s no topping Minou. My faculties are slipping. And yet… And yet, could it plateau? But I can’t stop crying.

Minou always said I would have a difficult time when she died. She repeated it 10, 12, maybe 15 times over the years. I never believed her. Of course it was easy for me – I knew I would die first. And I’m tough. Wrong on both counts. She always liked being right. And this time she was. The tears will never stop, but I am awfully glad I met her. Even gladder that I loved her. Most glad of all, that she loved me. I’m happy.

28/04/2008 / March 23, 2008 / Crying / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 716, © 2008 / CIP / SHE

Wow. Third time was the charm. The shortest and the longest. One year, ten years, forever. The easiest and the hardest – the peace of confidence and security; the jarring reality of modern medicine. Natural and unnatural – the flow of harmony every single night; and in the last year the malignant growth. It wasn’t what I feared, no sudden changes, no gender wars. It felt right. Only in the absence do you miss the best part of you. Sadly, only in the absence do you really comprehend what you lost. We take too much for granted. She was the most beautiful and bravest soul I ever knew. I love her and I loved her. End of the story, except for tomorrow.

28/04/2008 / March 27, 2008 / Marriage / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 717, © 2008 / CIP / SHE

There is lust, there is like, there is passion, and there is love lite, puppy love, and semi sort of love. And then, if you are very, very lucky; if you have been there and done that; if you have cried, and pondered, and howled and wondered, and wandered. Then, and possibly only then, there might seep into you the possibility of real love. And then it takes two. Two souls arriving at the same spot in time, the same locale, the same milieu. Each with the same hard seed inside that simply needs water: Minou and me – August 31, 1998

28/04/2008 / March 15, 2008 / Love / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 712, © 2008 / CIP / SHE

Some weeks have passed since I wrote the last sentence but I still want to talk about Dominique. In the interim we just completed her sixth and certainly last scheduled cycle of Chemo (infusion, which almost for sure makes her feel better, and a cycle of Temodal which almost for sure does not). Now, 4 weeks for the poison to do it’s job, a final MRI, and a consultation are in the offing. She thinks, and she is probably right, that Dr. Simon will suggest a continuation, perhaps with modifications, of the basic protocol. At any rate Phase 3 will be more or less complete, and that is what I signed on for. It is a good place to take stock, to review the last harrowing year, and to ponder the future.

First the great news – we had a year. In the beginning it appeared that we might have only weeks, or perhaps, if lucky, a few months of decline in front of us. Decline from the depths. At the onset gibberish and a horribly malfunctioning medical establishment. Soon dire forecasts and horrific headlines – be wary, ever so wary, of reading the literature. Bleakness and blackness, chaos and confusion, but tiny specks of bravery. Slowly, ever so slowly, Dominique started to fight. She is a magnificent animal when she marshals her will. She did it with her children for 25, 30 years, 10 years ago she did it with herself, and now she started to dig deep again. Inch by inch she inched herself up. In the end we had a year, no guarantees, but a year of some sort of progress. Of course it is true that the progress may be more apparent than actual, chemical than constituent – but it was a year and that was the goal.

Now we need an MRI and a prognosis. Something solid. A reason and a plan. Do we have seven weeks, seven months or seven years? At least today we don’t feel compelled to include seven days, though in January we might have. Just today my love spoke of the possibility of 15 years – feasible or filament? Should we conserve strength or live life? She’s fluttering and nearly flying again. It’s what she asked for. It’s as close as I can give to what she sought. I feel very certain I don’t have 15 years, and most probably not even 5. Five months may be closer to the mark. At any rate the balance is redressed – the odds are I’ll go first, and that pleases me.

28/04/2008 / October 11, 2007 / A Progress Report ? / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 702, © 2007 / CIP / SHE