my other life

8/14/2019 My Other Life

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My Other Life

In The Beginning

A long-distance telephone conversation with my oldest daughtercauses me to reflect over the past ten years, most particularly the lasteight. So much has happened to me. If anyone had told me my lifewould take the turn that it did, I would have told them they werecrazy!!

I think of the good and not so good, times, of which there weremany of both. But it was definitely the not-so-good that taught methe lessons I needed to learn, however painful.

Before going much further allow me to introduce ourselves.

I was born during a freak snowstorm in February 1947; my fatherapparently had to trek through three feet of snow to get to thehospital. To add to the confusion, immediately after my birth myparents were mistakenly informed I was a boy!!

My parents were older than most of my friends' parents. Mumwas thirty six, Dad was forty, when I was born. They had beenmarried nine years when World War II was declared in September1939. Merely nine months after their wedding Dad was called to servehis country. Four out of the six years he spent in India.

Mom, now a war bride, occupied her time working alongside fourof her sisters in a grocery store in a very well known market in theEast End of London, at that time often frequented by a large numberof American GI’s. The sisters called themselves, “The Marks girls”.

She loved her job and the customers loved her, in an innocentway; she was the youngest and prettiest of her five sisters. Iremember fondly, at times when we were alone, her telling me of thetreats she was given by the GI's – things like nylon stockings,chocolate – none of which were available in England at that time.



At the end of the war Dad returned home although it took sometime for them to settle back into civilian life. They moved into theupper floor of a large and creaky old house. The ground, or first floorwas already occupied by Ida Jacobs and her mother. When my motherbecame pregnant with me two years later, coinciding with the death of

Ida’s mother, it seemed sensible for all the occupants to reversefloors.

As time passed, Ida, a tiny dark haired homely woman, aspinster, and my parents became very close friends. She began tothink of me as an adopted grandchild; the feeling was mutual; fromthen on she was my ally especially later when my mother became illand was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.

I was about three years old when my father, beingunaccustomed to household chores, suddenly found himself having tocook and clean the house together with looking after his wife and childin between working at his job as a tailor.

Now, looking back I realize what a shock it must have been forDad; he had fallen in love with a woman who would happily walk formiles, play tennis and was generally athletic.

A tiny, chubby, unfashionably curly haired little girl, I had amiserable, unfulfilled time at home and at school. My saving gracewas Auntie Ida who wasn't shy to display her love for me. EverySunday morning, year after year, up to and including my wedding day,she would cook us both breakfast which we ate together in her kitchenupstairs. A welcome treat and escape - I would look forward to it allweek long.

She praised me often which helped my seriously sagging self esteem, still worsening as I grew older. It was difficult for me to makefriends, when I did bring a friend home my father was always critical

of them, and the atmosphere at home was not conducive for them towant to visit. On reaching my teen years the only way I felt I couldescape was to stay out after work, spending time in coffee bars,sometimes alone or if I was lucky, with a work colleague or two. Thatin itself didn't help my situation at home. I didn't make good choiceswith the company I kept – I was desperate for friendship.

I recall one occasion when I had stayed out all night. On my



return home my father grabbed hold of me literally dragging me downthe street to the police station announcing, once inside, he didn't wantme, that they should do whatever they wanted as long as I didn't gohome. The poor police woman tried to pacify him while separating us.Another police woman escorted me into a different office until things

were calm again. Of course I did go home eventually; thankfully, Dadgot over it.

My mothers’ condition deteriorated and the tension at homeworsened. To make matters yet worse she worried about me nothaving friends. She constantly encouraged me to go to youth clubs,going as far as to ask her caregivers' son or daughter to take me alongwith them; that made me feel awkward and unwanted.

Meeting Harvey

Then, a miracle happened - a friend of mine who had been withher boyfriend for a long time, called me to ask if I wanted to go to ayouth club. It was there that I met Harvey. He and a friend wereplaying table tennis – I passed right by them to go upstairs to thecloakroom; we noticed each other straight away. Of course, I askedmy friend who he was, did she know him, question after question. Shetold me she knew him well and promised to introduce us. This she didas soon as they had finished their game. Then, when it was time to gohome a few friends were arranging to go to the Wimpy Bar after club.I was invited and so was Harvey. We went in two cars, howevergradually, one by one they all dropped out except for myself andHarvey. We were dropped off at the Wimpy Bar - we were on our own– two very shy people who were attracted to each other but tongue-tied!! It had obviously been planned between them all.

That momentous event took place one month after my motherpassed away in April 1966.

Harvey was a barber, small in stature with dark curly hair, hazeleyes and olive skin. We related to each other in so many ways. He wasshy and like me he also had low self esteem.

I was nineteen years old.



Our first date was a visit to the local movie theater. We hadarranged to meet outside and each of us rode the bus from ourrespective homes.

The evening of the date it poured with rain; I had new shoes onbought especially for the occasion, but by the time I reached thetheater my feet were squelching in water; we were both absolutelysoaked and looked a mess, but rather than put us off, I think that firstinauspicious date cemented our relationship.

Following that we arranged to see each other at club meetingsand outings, in between dates, for several months. After about ninemonths we decided to take a vacation to Spain together (separaterooms of course). It was while we were on that vacation, in a nightclub, that he asked me to marry him.

We became officially engaged one year later. My Dad made us alovely party in a reception hall nearby - we were married one yearafter that. After a short honeymoon in London we moved into the littlehouse we had bought the year before, in a London suburb close towhere we had both grown up. We were so happy, like kids let loose ina toy shop. My Dad, all this time in his inimitable way, made it fairlyobvious he considered it was too good to be true.

Two years later we celebrated the birth of our first baby girl,Ruth - the second, Moraine, fifteen months after that. I then retiredfrom secretarial work to be a stay-at-home Mum. When the girls were14 and 15 respectively I resumed work on a part time basis. My first

job was a hostess in McDonalds, close to where we lived, then they putme onto cooking the fries. That lasted all of two weeks – I wasexhausted after a day's work. Two or three more store jobs followeduntil gradually, after a short evening school course in computers, (I'dcompletely missed out on the computer age), I made my way backinto office work on a part time basis.

We were so content and happy in our almost twenty-nine yearstogether. We were the envy of most of our friends. That is, apart fromapproximately two years when he became sick.



Our History

Prior to Harvey’s fifteenth birthday his domineering mother had“encouraged” him to become a hairdressers apprentice following inthe footsteps of herself and several other members of her family. Aftermany years of that he eventually began to tire of hairdressing; heenjoyed cutting hair and the social aspect of his job, however when itcame to the business side of it, particularly keeping the books up todate, he was not as good – he intensely disliked doing anything thatinvolved math.

We were not wealthy, in fact we often struggled financially,never quite sure what we were striving for except the desire for the“good things in life,” whatever they were! We were dissatisfied andfrustrated with our lives in England, but unclear as to exactly what itwas that was making us feel that way. Perhaps it was the seeminglyeverlasting sunless sky and the permanent damp climate. It couldeven have been the depressed atmosphere or the negativity of whatseemed like everyone we knew.

Possibly it was a combination of all of those things.

Even with our seemingly constant concerns about money wemade sacrifices so that we could all take two week vacations overseaseach year. We visited a number of other countries over the years.

Then, when the girls became fifteen and sixteen years old they didn'twant to come with us any more, preferring to do their own thing, sowe went on our own. Previously, we had taken package tours but nowwe were on our own we could take more chances. We merely boughtour tickets to wherever we fancied, then once there we foundourselves somewhere to stay.

It was on one of those occasions that we visited the United

States for the first time. It was our 15 th wedding anniversary and wehad always wanted to go to Disney World. (I surprised and delightedHarvey with the tickets).

We were hooked – we loved it – the people were so friendly andit was so open, unlike England. We wanted to live in the UnitedStates. In fact it eventually became an obsession. Everyone told us it



was extremely difficult to emigrate; this we later discovered forourselves - how would we be able to accomplish this dream? We hadto find a way.

Sickness

April of 1995 the girls were living independently and as a directresult of Harvey’s prolonged illness, we decided to take six months off and back-pack around the United States.

The illness Harvey suffered began when he developed flu-likesymptoms. He went to the doctor who prescribed antibiotics. Theinstructions were followed but the symptoms became worse, soanother doctor visit was put into action. Again, more antibiotics weregiven - and again the symptoms did not go away; more than that theybecame worse. He then developed a hacking cough. A friend of oureldest daughter recommended some holistic practitioners with whomwe made an appointment.

They diagnosed Candida, an overabundance of yeast in thebody; they prescribed herbs and a special yeast free diet. It worked,but then developed a chronic case of Insomnia; he continued to do afull day's work even after numerous sleepless nights - soon becomingso exhausted that he could hardly function.

It wasn't long before he became so desperate that he starteddrinking whiskey at night to help him sleep. He would get out of bedin the middle of the night after hours of trying to sleep, and failingmiserably - then coming back into the bedroom stinking of booze. Hewasn't a drinker so it made him feel bad physically and mentally. Of course it didn't help him sleep, it just made him dopey.

This dire situation lasted nearly two years, during which time hevisited a psychotherapist.

By this time our life took on a whole new pattern. We couldn'tplan anything - neither of us knew when or even if he would sleep.When he didn't all he could do, on his return home from work, was goto bed and just lay there.



He had changed from being the easy going man I had come toknow and love, to a man who was closed, depressed and notaffectionate any more. I hardly recognized him at times - it was hardto deal with. There was a tension in the household that had not beenthere before. We decided we had to get away, not for our usual two

weeks, this time it had to be a prolonged trip.

After a lot of planning we set off on a six month backpacking tripacross the United States following in the footsteps of our eldestdaughter who had done a similar trip the year previous. We flew intoWashington DC then gradually travelled southwest staying mainly inyouth hostels with their diverse, generally friendly residents. It wasthe trip of our dreams – visiting places we had only read about inmagazines or seen on TV.

Our length of stay in each city/town depended entirely on us, just as long as we desired with no advance planning.

Towards the end of this amazing and eventful trip we discovereda way in which, just maybe, we could live our dream - to emigrate tothe United States.

The discovery came one day while we were in Los Angeles, byway of a local newspaper article written by a British immigrationattorney specifically for people like us who wanted to emigrate.

We read the newspaper article with interest and later that sameday we called the attorney's office to make an appointment to see himthe following day. While we sat in his office listening to him lay out theguidelines and advising us of the costs, we were growing more andmore excited but tried very hard not to show it. We had only two moreweeks of our trip remaining but instead of dreading the thought of returning home, as we had always done, we now felt positive we coulddo this.

As a consequence of this discovery we flew home with apurpose.

On our return to England in October 1995, we made plans for themove. Of course we had our discussions as to whether or not we weredoing the right thing for ourselves, but one thing we were clear on,



under no circumstances did we want to reach old age with regrets –we had no intention of growing old muttering to each other, if only ,like we had heard so many say.

We moved ahead putting our home and Harvey’s barbershop onthe market, we sold two thirds of our household and personalbelongings; things that until that time had been all important to me,were let go, lightening the load which gave us a feeling of freedom.

We kept a small amount of personal items and a few favoritepieces of furniture, selling the rest. All sales were completed early thefollowing year. We had made arrangements for our remainingpossessions to be shipped to the US.

We were ready to take the plunge into the unknown.

June 31, 1996 was a very exciting day; it was the day we flewout of England for the last time, without a backward glance, likeexcited children with a feeling of utter freedom, as though we hadbeen in prison for years.

We were starting a new life - living our dream.

Back in the USA

On our arrival back in America, the first item on the agenda wasto check into the hostel in Arizona where we had stayed on our trip theprevious year. Continuing our stay there, cleaning rooms for our keep,saving as much money as possible for the investment we had beentold we had to make, though Harvey had not wanted another businesswith all its responsibilities.

One month after we arrived, following a short search, theinvestment was made. We bought a ready-made and fully stockedstore selling folk-art and jewelry from around the world, employed twogirls to help, then two weeks later bought a home. Even the localnewspaper came down to interview us at the store and takephotographs. It was a whirlwind doomed to end.



Although as I have said, Harvey didn't want to run anotherbusiness, it did give him the opportunity to realize another dream. Foryears he had wanted to read tarot cards. This he did from the upperfloor of the store. The gallery area was directly above the main store -private – a perfect space to see clients - with table and chairs below alow, old fashioned tin ceiling. He became quite well known as areader – a few clients travelled distances to see him. He did well andwe made some wonderful friends in the process.

It didn’t take us long to realize, once we began working in ourstore, how much we were to learn, both practically and spiritually. Awhole new world had opened up and continued to do so each day - aworld in which we were totally ignorant. Our education was about tobegin.

My Education

On the drive home from visiting friends forty miles or so fromwhere we lived, a problem arose. After driving several milesrealization dawned - we were headed in the wrong direction. It wasanother couple of miles before we found somewhere to turn around.

Harvey had just recently passed his driving test at the age of 54having never driven in the UK. His inexperience as a driver, togetherwith his nervousness, made matters worse. He noticed a little wayahead there was a turnaround but he was going too fast to take it - hetook it anyway. He couldn’t stop in time and we finished up in a ditch.

Fortunately, although the front end of the car had finished up ina ditch, we were without injury and thankfully close to relativecivilization. A couple of guys had witnessed the incident from theirpickup truck across the street and quickly arrived at the scene of theaccident; after checking to see if anyone was hurt, and upon satisfyingthemselves there were no injuries, they set about pulling us out with atowrope; that done we thanked them profusely and offered themsome cash for their kind services; they thanked us and declined ouroffer. We then set out for home once again. Harvey was badly shakenfrom the experience as was I. The remainder of the drive home wasscary but thankfully uneventful

We had been looking forward to a visit from some friends from



England who we expected to arrive the following week.

Russell and Angela had been neighbors in our old home town. The four of us were close in age. We liked and respected them

because they had been almost unique in their support of our dream of living in America. Everyone else seemed to think we were crazy!When our friends arrived we threw a party in their honor. Several of our new American friends joined us; one or two played guitar andsang. Everyone enjoyed themselves letting their hair down.

The visit came to an end all too quickly and after a veryemotional farewell they left for home. We missed them however thenext weekend our friends Doug and Jamie invited us to visit them forthe weekend; we agreed.

After work on the following Saturday we set off. Again, Harveyhad to drive the same forty miles that we had the accident a fewweeks before; this time it would be getting dark before we reachedour destination. Doug, knowing how nervous Harvey was aboutdriving, and knowing what had happened the last time, had suggestedwhen we get close to the nearest town we should call him; he said hewould come and get us, guide us the rest of the way along the fivemiles of dirt road.

We did as Doug suggested; he and his wife met us at a local gasstation; we parked our car there then the four of us traveled in ourfriends' truck. We spent a pleasant evening cooking over a barbecue,chatting and laughing and soon went to sleep in one of the two tents.

After breakfast the following morning Doug asked us if wewanted to go spelunking nearby. We had no idea what spelunking wasor what it entailed, nevertheless we agreed; we would soon find out.

The four of us set off armed with nothing more than two smallflashlights, a camera and a hacksaw. What we thought we were goingto do with a camera in that dark place we had no idea!

Doug and Jamie told us they had visited the caves on numerousoccasions and that they knew the way.

On arrival at the cave entrance we began to walk inside; it wasso dark that even with the meager flashlights we couldn’t see theground beneath us. It smelled earthy, a little stale. I was very hesitant,



reluctant to go any further although I didn’t share my thoughts withHarvey. As we progressed a little further, hand in hand, our footingbecame more uncertain due to the uneven surface of the ground - Ihad a vague memory of someone shouting, “ mind the hole ,” too late!We had cartwheeled down this large hole together, still hand in hand,

apparently nine feet down. I was unaware of anything at all for whatseemed a long time. In fact it had only been a few moments - I heardHarvey’s panicked voice calling my name. Then Doug and Jamie werethere picking me up and checking there were no injuries. They led usout into the bright daylight.

It seemed at first sight that neither of us had any seriousinjuries. Of course we were suffering from shock, and one of myknees was pouring with blood, and we both had bad bruising. It wasthe pain in Harvey’s arm which subsequently became a problem.

When we eventually arrived back at our friend’s property, Jamie madea makeshift splint for it.

We were a mess; our hair and bodies were filthy and we werecovered in scratches and cuts. Harvey was traumatized by theincident. He had thought I had been badly hurt when I failed toanswer their frantic calls. I had just lain there unmoving and silent.

After getting ourselves cleaned up the best we could it wasagreed that the visit should be cut short. Doug and Jamie offered to

drive us all home in their truck; they said they would collect our carlater (we had left it at the gas station).

Back home Harvey went to bed in a lot of pain. The followingmorning was no better so we visited the hospital to have the armexamined. The doctor x-rayed it and sent us home. The next dayHarvey received a telephone call from the doctor who we had seen theprevious day. He informed Harvey, after re-examining the x-ray, hefound that the right wrist showed a severe fracture; he added, it wouldneed surgery otherwise it was likely there would be long-term effects.”

Harvey had the recommended surgery the very next day while Ilooked after the store. Later, a neighbor drove me to the hospital tocollect Harvey and take him home.

Merely an hour or two after we arrived home from the hospitalHarvey was again in excruciating pain. I called a taxi to take us back



to the hospital and get his arm checked. It seemed the doctor hadmade the plaster cast too tight causing his circulation to be affected;his hand had actually begun to turn blue and felt very cold. A nurseslit the cast a little to enable the arm to breathe; he was told to returnseven weeks later to have the cast removed.

My instinct, that little voice inside myself, had told me to turnaround at the cave entrance and get out of there, yet I had ignored itcontinuing to walk into that cave regardless!!



Through the Fire

It happened late in the afternoon on a Saturday in July, 1997 -

Harvey was napping upstairs while I was pottering around downstairsin the living room. I had lit a candle and placed it on the step of theraised red brick fireplace in the corner of the living room; on the shelf above I stored incense sticks; I decided to light one right then andthere, proceeding to lean over the lit candle. Taking hold of anincense stick I prepared to light it from the candle - I hadn’t noticedthat my long, flimsy hippie skirt had caught alight and in no time I wasin flames.

I must have screamed and woke Harvey, I then fell onto thecarpeted floor and rolled, by which time Harvey was halfway down the

stairs, completely naked. He had obviously heard my scream anddidn't stop to think about his state of undress! I seem to rememberasking him to throw a wet coat over me. I don’t remember muchmore about it except for a dim awareness of the sirens of theemergency services arriving to take me to the hospital. Anothervague memory is of one of the ambulance people suggesting toHarvey that he might want to put some clothes on before he climbedinto the other emergency vehicle.

The next thing I recall was waking up in the Intensive Care Unitseemingly covered in bandages. I had 2 nd and 3 rd degree burns to 30%

of my body, from my thighs up to my midriff. The next month was the most physically painful period in my

life. During the first few days I vaguely recall seeing images of Harveyand one or two other visitors. Seven days after the accident I hadsome skin grafted from the backs of my legs onto the injury sites,followed by daily therapy which involved specially controlled whirlpoolbaths into which I had to be lowered by a hoist.

During this awful period I somehow stayed sane by the sight of the mountain range seen from the window in my hospital room. I

wouldn't allow the nurses to close the curtains, even at night – I justwanted to stare out of the window. Of course the visits from Harveyand a couple of friends was always welcome.

Harvey was understandably very disturbed and shocked bythese latest events. A good friend described him as “walking intowalls”. He had a lot of trouble concentrating on anything, especiallythe store. Two friends offered to run it for us along with our employee,



to enable Harvey to just concentrate on me.

Eventually, after one month of hospitalization I was discharged,on the condition there would be two people to change my dressings,on the days I didn't have to go to the hospital outpatients to have it

done. So Harvey, together with a very good friend, Cindy, had that job.

This unpleasant chore virtually turned my kitchen into anoperating room with all the new and freshly sterilized bandages, andequipment laid out on the counter tops in order of use.

Three months later, in October, I returned to work although I stillhad a way to go before I was well again and could walk properly.

After things calmed down we realized that we could not go on

with the store, which also meant we would have to sell our newlypurchased house. We didn't have the feeling for it any more after therecent events.

We were offered the spare room in a friend's house which wegratefully accepted.

It wasn’t a perfect arrangement for any of us. Harvey didn’t likeit - he felt somehow uncomfortable, but I was very thankful; it was aroof over our heads. I figured even though the circumstances andconditions could have been better we were there for a reason; wewere extremely grateful. But I was in denial - I had feelings for David,feelings I should not have had, and that were unfamiliar.

I had been with Harvey thirty-two or thirty-three years by thistime. He was my first and only lover, and was a wonderful husband -we had been extremely happy. Why then did I feel this way? It waswrong!! I knew that Harvey was aware of something amiss – we kneweach other very well. I felt bad about it but I couldn't help myfeelings.

During this strange period of time we continued to look for aproperty to buy. At last, we found a two acre parcel high on a hill inthe Verde Valley; it was quiet, secluded and peaceful; at last I hadfound my piece of Arizona.

It seemed my prayers had been answered - we then proceededto find a mobile home to move onto the land. Little did I know thenthat I would be living on the property without my Harvey.



Three weeks after moving into David’s house, towards the endof January, 1998, Harvey began getting acute headaches during whichhe could only sit and hold his head. Then followed several days wherehe seemed unable to dress himself correctly. His hand and leg on hisright side didn’t seem to work and he was unable to fasten his

trousers or his shoes. Then his walking became affected, favoring oneside. One night he had gone into the bathroom and taken a fall. Ayoung girl, a house guest heard him crash to the floor and tried to pickhim up but was unable to - she called me and together we got himonto a seat.

The very next day David and I took him to the hospital wherethey did various tests finishing up with an MRI.

I knew it had to be something serious; I thought either a strokeor a brain tumor. After discounting the first option, knowing full well

that a stroke comes on within minutes, I concluded that it was thesecond option. I was correct - the doctors informed me it was a veryaggressive tumor and suggested several options, the first being brainsurgery.

We went ahead, taking the specialists’ advice; this was followedby two more surgeries followed closely by chemotherapy andradiation. All to no avail. Once out of the hospital he became weakerand weaker gradually being unable to move or eat or drink.

Thankfully, we had the assistance of the Hospice movement who

came in daily administering pain medication and whatever else he/weneeded. At the same time myself, David and my youngest daughterMoraine, who was visiting from England, together with one or twofriends prayed that God be merciful and spare him any more pain - hisand our agony ceased - he passed away the night after Moraine leftfor home. The agony had lasted a little over three months.

I continued to live in David’s house after Harvey passed awayand together we made the arrangements for Harvey’s ashes to beburied on my newly purchased property, which I had namedBennyville in honor of Harvey. We invited a few friends and had a little

ceremony. The following months went by in a blur. I conducted myself and

my life recklessly, as though none of the recent events had occurred.David and I attended parties and drank. Then, David’s beloved dogbecame sick; horror of horrors he was diagnosed with throat cancer.After suffering for a few weeks the vet was called and poor Tahlee hadto be put to sleep. We buried his ashes on my property right next to



Harvey. I now had a mini cemetery!

Every couple of weeks David and I drove down to my propertychecking the progress of the necessary work on the land andrenovations on the mobile home. It was gradually taking shape. The

contractor and I discussed what was needed to make my new homelook the way I wanted it to.

At last, five months later, in September it was finished. Davidand I agreed that I should move onto my land, into my own home onceagain. The home that Harvey and I had bought together but which henever saw finished.

Early one morning, on opening my front door, to my surpriseand delight there was a very excited and handsome dog standing onmy doorstep. He was reluctant to enter the house even when I tried

to coax him. Eventually, I succeeded in allaying his fears and he cameinside - once in, he decided he wanted to stay and we became friends.

I named him Ben. It appeared he had run away from his homenearby; to me he was sent by God - the light turned on in my life oncemore. Strangely, he spent most of his time sitting on the spot whereHarvey's ashes were buried. This practice went on for months andduring my many hours of contemplation, the question repeatedly rosein my mind, could Ben possibly be Harveys reincarnation?

I believed he could.

The Tibetan Buddhists believe we are reincarnated many timesover, why shouldn't I? It made so much sense to me then, and stilldoes. In so many ways Ben's nature and characteristics were sosimilar to Harvey's. His sensitivity, his alarm at loud noises, togetherwith a few other similarities. However I kept my thoughts to myself for obvious reasons, except that is, for one or two very close friends. Istill, to this day, believe it. I know for sure Harvey would be veryhappy he had been reborn into this beautiful, spiritual animal – tokeep me company, to protect me, but most of all to love me. He hadalways wanted a dog, he had often said, “ once we have our own place

we will have a dog”.



Dan

Dan was an acquaintance of both David and I. He had beenstaying in his car parked on David's property. As he had no work he

agreed to help the contractor work on my place, then once the workwas completed he stayed in the spare room and helped me over thefirst few months.

When sober he was a nice enough guy. We got along just finefor three or four weeks. He helped me around the house, hangingpictures, fixing a few things and doing some work in the yard. He thenbegan drinking and things got tense.

It was the day before Halloween - David was having a party thefollowing day which we were supposed to be attending. Dan had been

up all of the previous night drinking and playing computer games - hewas good for nothing. I, on the other hand was determined to go tothe party but I needed Dan to drive us up there. He had fallen into adead sleep fully clothed and couldn’t be roused even when I set areluctant Ben onto him. Eventually I threw a jug full of cold water ontohim which woke both his body and his temper.

Miraculously, we made it to the party, however I had alreadydecided to give him his marching orders. Much to my relief he leftpeaceably a couple of weeks later.

Ben and I were alone. I spent my days landscaping – moving redrocks from one place to another, together with a little planting. Imade decorations to hang from the decks and kept in touch withfriends via email, staying as busy as possible. I would sit on my porchfor hours at a time marveling at the view. Whenever I could arrange aride, Ben and I visited David.

Almost a year passed without incident when suddenly I receivedan email from David telling me his mother was sick - she had beendiagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer!

It was agreed that I would go back up to David’s to help himcare for her once she had been discharged from the hospital. Backcame the hospice workers; the same people who had helped us withHarvey. Mercifully her and our misery was short-lived as she passedaway just three weeks after leaving the hospital.

Again Ben and I stayed; we had garage sales, selling some of myremaining inventory, taking walks downtown, visiting friends, having



drinks, lunches out and shopping. Life took on the look of normalityalthough it was very far from that.

After mutual agreement between David and I, I left with Ben tocome home - another phase of my new life was to start.

I decided to have a yard sale; nobody came to buy but anelderly man by the name of Carter visited. He hadn’t come to buyanything either, instead he came to introduce himself as a neighbor.We became friends and after several conversations with him hesuggested I take a space at the local indoor swap meet. He suggestedthat maybe I would be able to sell my remaining inventory, togetherwith a few items he had made over the years. It would be to ourmutual benefit.

He was a kind man, offering to drive me there and back in myvan. This we did day after day enabling me to meet new people andmake a little money.

The building in which the swap meet was held was a large, leakyold warehouse-looking place. It was divided up into ten-foot squarebooths, with a large area at the back where all kinds of furniture andfurnishings were left on consignment, in a higgledy piggledy way.When I wasn’t at my booth I spent my time looking around forbargains and chatting to other vendors. I was even allowed to takeBen to work with me - my life changed in a positive way.

After several months the owners of the swap meet decided toclose down. With the help of Carter I removed my inventory andbrought it back home. Ben and I then returned to David’s house for afew months. It was a strange, difficult time for me. I had experiencedso many strange feelings and emotions for what seemed a very longtime. In actual fact it was as long as I had been in the US, a little overthree years. I felt as though I had been turned around in circles thenset down again - I was disoriented.



Sobriety

It was a stressful time - sitting in one of the remaining chairs in

the living room amid nothing but dirt, noise and boxes. David wasmoving and the house was being converted into apartments. I had ahard time dealing with it. I had had enough and made a decision tocome home with Ben, with or without David. His drinking hadworsened considerably and so had his moods.

I called a taxi, loaded up my bags and Ben - after making a brief stop at the grocery store for provisions on the way, we drove down tomy property. I craved peace and quiet. Ben and I spent a peaceful

Thanksgiving on our own - it was blissful.

Two weeks later David reluctantly gave up his life in the househe and his family had lived in for years and drove down to my home inthe middle of the night. He moved in here with me occupying thespare bedroom. The first few weeks passed uneventfully - he helpedaround the house and we talked a lot.

Until I came to the U.S and met David I had not come intocontact with alcoholism - I was learning fast - I was plunged into aworld I knew nothing about.

The life I had left behind in England had been so innocent, so

naïve. I had vaguely heard my father talk about my paternalgrandfather drinking a lot of alcohol. However, he had died before Iwas born. I was untouched by it. In my wildest dreams I could nothave imagined the effects of that disease, both for the sufferer, theirfamily and friends.

I needed to find work and succeeded in securing a clericalposition on the nearby Yavapai-Apache reservation. I spent anenjoyable year there, as well as earning some much needed money. Italso helped take my mind off my home situation, which was beginningto consume me. After my contract ended there I took a care-givingcourse at a local agency then went to work as a care-giver.

The weeks and months passed quite routinely – I went to worktrying not to dwell on what was going on at home. Then a goodfriend, who was herself a recovering alcoholic, came down to stayaccompanied by her beloved golden labrador, Riley. She set her tenton my property and we spent many pleasant hours together.



For a long time I had prayed a miracle would happen - thatDavid would stop drinking. For some time I had felt deep inside of mesomething big was about to happen. I also knew it had to come soonor he would die, but it had to come from him.

One magical day the miracle happened - during a conversationbetween David and Nancy in my kitchen. Nancy voiced her feelings of discomfort to David concerning his continued drinking. In order tohelp and support her, he helped himself break the habit - he quitdrinking right then and there.

Creativity

I had never thought of myself as being a creative person. Apartfrom a brief interlude years before when I painted a little in oils. Thenhere in the US I began to design and make beaded jewelry.

At first the jewelry was crude but gradually, with a lot of practiceand advice from my younger daughter I improved my skills - for thenext couple of years I exhibited and sold jewelry on a regular basis atlocal art shows.

Then, in October of 2005 David moved out to live with his clientas a caregiver. That meant I could no longer exhibit at art shows. Hehad always driven me there and set up my tent for me. I knew Icouldn't do it without him. My initial reaction was disappointment - Iwondered what was next.

It was a relief to be living on my own after all this time. I neededto be independent - to be able to do what I wanted, when I wanted.Without having someone peering over my shoulder telling me I wasdoing it wrong, whatever it was.

Harvey had never been like that. He had been so easy going.

It has taken several years but I eventually forgave myself foracting the way I did with David, even though we actually didn't havean affair, we came pretty close at times. I know Harvey forgave me.

It didn’t take me long to rediscover painting; now was theperfect time to find out what I could do. I discovered I love it. Its beenlaughingly said by friends that if Mother Moses could do it so could I.

I'm no Picasso nor even Mother Moses, not even close. The wayI look at it is if I enjoy it, get satisfaction out of it, it's worth doing.



I have no more regrets with regard to my actions, or the eventsover the past few years – more than that I’m grateful, for all of it. Idon’t consider them bad luck, in fact quite the contrary – strange tosay but they were a gift! Without them I wouldn't be the person I amtoday – hopefully a better one. I think I have grown spiritually

because of them.Since Harvey's death I have often found myself wondering how,

or even if, he would have adjusted to the lifestyle out here in thedesert - I'm doubtful – I know he would have wanted to, after all it washis dream too, however knowing him as I did I think it would havebeen too much of an adjustment for him.

As I glance at the many photographs taken of us throughout theyears scattered around my home, I study his face as it was then, andlater, after we emigrated – I see uncertainty in his eyes and that

makes me sad.I've become even more sure of this recently while re-reading

and memorializing a diary I kept of our six month trip. It reminds meof the last two or three turmoil filled years of our marriage.

Of course these doubts beg the question, would we as a couplehave survived? This is of course an unanswerable question now,which is probably fortunate.

For a long time my existence has consisted of enjoying my land,

my beloved dog, Ben, (at the time of writing this around nine yearsold), together with the few friends who are dear to me.

I live on faith, knowing that Spirit will provide me with what Ineed when I need it, though not necessarily when I want it. He rarelylets me down, although I constantly need to remind myself of this.Sometimes it seems a very lonely existence.

I now believe in living life day to day, in fact, moment tomoment. No more do I concern myself with long term goals or fear of death.

Above all else I listen carefully to my inner voice - I try very hardnot to worry about petty things - that battle is on-going. I still have agreat deal of work to do on myself. Just when I think I am gettingsomewhere, I take several steps backward - it seems that is the way of it.



Life on this earth is a journey without an end.Nothing lasts forever – like the circle, everything

revolves and/or evolves.If we do not accept

change we cannot grow.

Onwards and Upwards

It seemed quite sudden although I know now it had beendeveloping over a long period of time. I fell into an acute depression.I was having some problems with my property, there was trouble atmy daughters' home, and my own financial worries. All those thingsin conjunction with my feeling of extreme solitude. I felt I couldn'tcope with my life any longer – I wanted to end it, even going so far asto research the possibility of obtaining a weapon for myself – a quickdeath was the order of the day. In my deranged state of mind Ireasoned that I wouldn't really be missed by anyone, not even mykids, for long – I believed they would get over the loss eventually,continuing on with their lives, as you do!

I prayed, meditated and did everything I could think of to dragmyself out of it.

At last, after several months the depression seemed to lift. I hadfaced my truth at last and made a decision - I had to move to the city -to be in the midst of things – it was time. My need to see people Iknow and love overrode the need for solitude - to be able to ride thebus to the stores and visit loved ones instead of relying on others todrive me there.

It was a decision I had not previously considered, except for afew brief thoughts during the height of my depression. That, I believewas the turning point, although at the time it seemed hopeless. Of course it did, hopelessness was the order of the day was it not? Untilthat point I had continually maintained I would be here until I die –“they ” call it being in denial, “ they ” are correct - well things change!

Having made this momentous decision I became more positive,looking forward to yet another new beginning.

It's time to restart my life............

my other life

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