My slides are good! For my first attempt at still-life, I'd say I really did well.
Jan. 22, 1984… I made breakfast for Norm and me, then after doing dishes together, I got my camera equipment and we took off for Loud Thunder, around to Muscatine, and back to Credit Island. I used my sunset and graduated filters. We had lunch at Hardee's. Les came for supper. Mom had a roast. After everyone was in bed, Norm decided to cook up that brown macaroni that I'd bought last year while on the Alivizatos diet. I'd never gotten up the nerve to cook it before. . . curiosity got the best of Norm. He put cheese in it to help the flavor, but actually the stuff wasn't too bad. It was more grainy because it was never processed. We watched "Funny Girl" on the late show but gave it up. It wouldn't end 'til 2:00 A.M.
PAGE 276
Chapter 37 Zenith of Grief
"I didn't associate God with loneliness; the two were separate, and to bond them would have been inconceivable. God did not forsake me. I am part of Nature. . .this is natural, as is my grief."
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Zenith Of Grief
I am beginning this new journal several pages before the old one expired! Perhaps this is because it is rather a new beginning for me. One must bridge countless mountains throughout his existence, and some of those mountains are much more difficult to climb than others. It has not yet hit me fully that Norm is dead, and this will be the hardest truth I will ever bear. It is through the selfish nature of human beings that we suffer and mourn over a drastic loss, for the deceased is no longer subjected to the routine pangs of life itself. I derive comfort from the knowledge that Norm led the type of life he desired, for so many individuals spend time involved in relationships they despise, or in jobs they abhor. Norm didn't worry about attaining what so many casually label "success," that being a career that "looks" right. Success is having established a set of values and living by them; realizing time is precious and therefore shouldn't be wasted on petty grievances and concerns. Moreover, a life having quality is a life which is peaceful. Norm led a quiet life, spending many waking hours doing that which pleased him. He was not selfish; one must please himself before he can expect to treat others civilly. He was easy to be with, and would let you be… he wasn't out to force his opinions and desires on others.
I feel terrible now, but I know that my life was touched by a very special person. For that I shall always feel grateful. It is better to have had a beautiful relationship and have it end, than to never have experienced it at all. Norm was my mainstay in life. When things felt as if they were falling apart, it was always to him that I would turn. He was my companion and my best friend. We could share so much because we shared the same thought process. Seldom does a person feel completely at ease with another, and yet with Norm I was. Conversation wasn't necessary, but it was one of the finer parts of our relationship because we so well understood each other.
My life will never be the same without Norm; of all people, I feel it will be the hardest to be without him. My thoughts are so displaced. I feel dead. He is at peace now, or at least I choose to think so. One never knows of the after life until he himself has expired. Superstition and blind hope forced me to pray that he would live and be normal. To be comatose or paralyzed would be worse than death. It's funny; he felt so strongly that his purpose in living had not yet been fulfilled, and he had a zest for life to one day find that which would (in his mind) fill that commitment to life. I once again found that my beliefs were true; prayer does not help those things over which we have no control. It is a formal way of hoping.