10 years ago today I was all set to meet John for the first time. We had been emailing/chatting with each other for the last week or so and we had made a date to meet that evening.
At the time I was living with my dad because he was going through aggressive cancer treatments and needed someone to help him. I'd gotten off work early that day because we had an offsite "team building" activity, so I was home when Dad came back from the doctor that afternoon with news that the doctor was discontinuing his treatments and had told my dad to prepare to die. He estimated he had 3 more months to live. The hospice nurse would come by the house that evening to talk with us.
Even though my dad had been diagnosed with cancer several years before, Multiple Myeloma and Melanoma, I hadn't ever given much thought to the fact that he was going to die. I mean, he couldn't. This was my DAD, and I needed him. This news that we weren't going to be fighting the cancer anymore, we were just going to let it take him, shocked me.
I called John to tell him that I couldn't make it, that I was sorry, but something came up and we would have to reschedule our meeting. I'm sure he thought I was chickening out. I was reluctant to plan another meeting because I really didn't know what was going to happen.
We met with the nurse that evening. She told us she would be sending over a hospital bed for the living room, there would be a pastor coming by to talk to us (this was some kind of requirement with the hospice that both Dad and I, being athiests, felt was silly). We made calls to family, my sisters and grandmother would be arriving from California and Kansas soon to say their goodbyes...It was a pretty hellish day.
Later, unable to sleep, I got on the computer and no sooner had I logged in (on dial-up!) than I got a message from John who was also online. He asked me why I cancelled our meeting, I told him about my dad and how rotten I was feeling. He said he'd still really like to meet me if I wanted to tonight. It was 10:00 at night by then. I thought about my options. Sit at home wallowing in my misery or go meet someone and take my mind off of it for a while. We agreed to meet at a coffee shop located half way between our homes in a half-hour.
I didn't do much to get ready to meet him. My eyes and face were red and puffy from crying and beyond help. I just put on clean clothes and left. I took my dad's car because it had a panic button on the key fob, and I figured if this John guy who wants to meet me late at night decides to be a creep I could push the panic button and the car's alarm would go off and scare him away, or maybe attract some big strong dudes to come to my resuce and beat him up.
When I got there, John was waiting for me, sitting on a bench in the front of the coffee shop. If ever there was a guy who was "my type" it is John. I remember that day he was wearing glasses. He also had a full beard. He was wearing a t-shirt, shorts and flip flops. Despite having had a monumentally shitty day and feeling like I'd been through the emotional ringer, when I saw John, my heart did a little flip flop.
We had coffee and talked until September. I'm sure I looked terrible, and I wasn't really talking about typical "first date" fluff. I talked about my dad, and my divorce and my job. We talked about religion (he was a recovering Mormon) and his school (he was still finishig up his BA), eventually we talked about movies and he mentioned that I should watch Clerks. That if he thought I'd agree, he'd invite me back to his place to watch it. I didn't agree right away. We probably talked for another half hour or so before I looked at him and decided all of a sudden, with complete disregard for any common sense, that yes, I did want to go to his place and watch a Kevin Smith movie.
I followed him back to his place in my car, all the while thinking I must be insane. No one knew where I was or who I was with. What if this guy murdered me and buried my body in his backyard? Somehow I just didn't believe that John was the murdering type. And I suppose part of it was I really wanted to go somewhere other than home. Home where I'd have to watch my dad die. I really wanted to watch a funny movie with a cute guy and not think of my real life for a while.
So we did. We watched Clerks on his couch and John didn't so much as hold my hand. He loaned me a blanket to cuddle up in and we sat next to each other and by the end of the movie, I was pretty much ready to have him make a move. But he didn't. Not one. I left his house both thankful for the diversion and a little confused as to whether or not he liked me. Because honestly, it wouldn't have been too hard for him to take advantage of me that day. But, he didn't.
Over the next couple of weeks John and I started seeing each other more and more, I'd make sure someone could stay with my dad and I'd spend a night or a weekend with John. We watched news coverage of the 9/11 attacks together. He met my family when he came to pick me up for a date. We'd stay awake talking until the sun came up. And even though he was supposed to just be a diversion, a fling, and escape from what was going on in my life, we were beginning to care very much for each other.
On the morning of September 24th 2001, my dad died. The night before was rough, he'd been up and in pain and we had to call he nurse to bring morphine. Before he fell asleep I told him I loved him and I was proud to be his daughter. When I left for work the next morning, he was sleeping and his breathing was odd. As soon as I got to the office I began making preparations to take time off of work. I got a call from my mom saying she thought I should come home. I raced home, but when I walked up the steps and my mother and the social worker were on the porch. "He's gone isn't he?" I asked. They nodded. My mom hugged me. I waited a while to see him. I didn't want to look at him when he wasn't there. Eventually I went in. Everyone left me alone with him. I held his hand and it was still warm.
Waiting for the mortuary to pick him up, I called John. I didn't know what to do. I just needed to talk to someone else who wasn't grieving. I told him my dad died, and I know this wasn't part of our "agreement" but I needed to talk to someone. He just said "I'm coming over". He was at my side in 15 minutes. My dad's body was still in the living room.
John stayed with me that night. He held me while I cried and said all the right things when I told him how much I hated the thought of death being the end. He stayed with me every night for the next 4 nights.
The rest of our courtship happened quickly, but naturally. We fell crazy in love, we moved in together, we got married. I got pregnant and had a miscarraige. I got pregnant again and Alex was born September 25, 2005, four years and one day after my dad died. We gave him the middle name Richard for my father. 10 years later, Alex is about to start Kindergarten. And he's an artist, like my dad. Our family was complete when we had Max.
The loss of my dad and the beginning of my relationship with John are so twisted up together that I have a hard time separating them. Beng such an emotional wreck allowed me to trust John in ways I wouldn't have trusted anyone otherwise. John treated me with such kindness and care during that time, even though he'd just met me. He was exactly the person I needed in my life at that time. And before long he was the person I need and want in my life always.
I love you John Dillier. Thank you for being my husband, everything that title means and more.
What a great story! I never knew how you two met. Your dad seemed like a fighter. I'm so sorry you had to watch him suffer. I'm sure it was awful. I am glad you had John there. Such a good guy! I'm proud he didn't make a move on you the first night, while you were so vunerable ;) You guys are great together! 10 years. WOW!
Posted by: Scott and Sara | September 12, 2011 at 10:42 PM