My thoughts raced… I began to fantasize… would they think I was guilty… would I be suspect as in a murder case… when they said he was gone, I had felt relief, for I knew he had been without oxygen far too long. I thought about his corneas given to Iowa City… how would he see… how ridiculous to think that…I thought about how safe I had always been with Norm as my "guard" . . . now he was gone . . . the daily excursions, the trips to Amana, Wild Cat Den, Loud Thunder, Davenport, Credit Island, the boat races, sailing on the Mississippi, even the winter picnics… all over now.
Norm was an ultra-sensitive person, not only self-sensitive, but caring for others. He had an acute awareness with regard to feelings, and seemed to know when to simply let be. It was a quality that few possess. . . a quality that few understand. It was this quality that made Norm so easy to be around. He didn't demand the full capacity of one's attention; he was personable and low-key; he allowed one to relax.
Every facet of his life mirrored his goal of inner serenity. He often spent time alone, walking for miles to attain physical and mental calm. Meditation was also becoming a valued discipline in his daily routine.
I am glad that I was given the opportunity to develop such a close relationship with Norm through the passage of time in which I was growing into the person I am now. He played an integral part in my life, and I feel somehow linked to him in an undefinable bond. Our sharing and understanding for one another spanned the seemingly trivial nature of a common joke to the mind-searching questions for which there are no answers. To say that he could be replaced is mere folly. Only once in a lifetime can one share so much. I am fortunate to possess the memories; I only regret having to end the making of memories so soon. We were two loners with a common bond. Now I am one loner, alone.
Jan. 24, 1984… I am fatigued… it took two hours to fall asleep. I was thinking, and I was scared that I'd have awful nightmares. I kept seeing him lying on the floor, and I was at first so certain that he was only having a nightmare. We could've had a stroke of luck like that…I woke at 6:20 A.M., the time that yesterday morning I awoke so lightening fast to the sound of uneven breathing. I went to the bathroom, then lay in bed until 8:00. I didn't seem to have much use for sleep.
So many people have come today with food and the plants are also numerable. Janet sent me a red rose, shortly afterward she appeared in person. Kristi even called from Cedar Rapids. So many care.
Todd, Debbie and Sharon arrived near noon, before that time, I'd tried on Norm's shirts and discovered they looked better than many of my own. I will be keeping the newer or nicer ones. It's a comfort to have his things near me. I changed the sheets on my bed because Sharon will be in my room throughout the duration of the week.
The radio-tape player that Norm ordered arrived today (UPS). I felt so sorry for the delivery man. He knew Norm. Todd called the doctor who performed the autopsy on Norm. He said death was caused by a left coronary occlusion, which is a heart attack via a blood clot. Because of the location. . . the upper left side of the heart. . . death occurs suddenly. Even if he had had a check-up it was not felt that the problem would have been readily identifiable. It was also something that would have been fatal if he'd been in the hospital at the time it occurred. Death is final within one or two minutes of the initial attack. This was most likely a gradual situation which would not be apparent to the afflicted individual. Every indication is masked, so gradual is the effect. Norm's organs were said to be over the normal weight due to amassed blood; the heart was not pumping efficiently enough to flush out the blood and therefore it clung to the tissues of the various organs.
I felt so relieved that an actual cause was found. I kept thinking rather accusingly of the Agoraphobia tapes. I also wondered if he'd had a dream in which he died, and then as a reaction to subconscious thought, the body began the death process. It's always been horrid for me to remain without the facts. I derive a sense of satisfaction from knowing the truth, or at least the truth as best one knows it to be.
I feel, at last, that I have attained a certain degree of peacefulness. Norm was and always will be a part of me, so great was our degree of sharing and mutuality. His companionship is gone forever, and yet the feeling of oneness shall endure through time and into the furthest reaches of eternity. Our being of opposing sexes enhanced the relationship. I lived for Norm and to be with him. In myself, I see him. My actions. . . my thoughts. . . are not manifestations of togetherness, but rather a singular uniqueness shared by us/we two.