Ben’s Journal

May 11 2002

 

 

 

 

 

My temporary retirement from law enforcement has passed quickly, so quickly that I have not had the time to even notate events on these pages.

 

The most significant event is that Ray’s oldest nephew Paul graduated from Truman College last Saturday with his degree in Law Enforcement.

 

Tony and Maria were extremely proud of their first-born.  Maria admitted, wiping tears from her eyes after the ceremony,  that it was bizarre and surreal to have a child old enough to be a college graduate.  She is already beginning to worry about him going into such a dangerous profession.  Ray and I have both reassured her that he will be fine.

 

Paul told me that he wants to go into the K-9 unit eventually, and work with the dogs.  If they will let him, he wants to name his dog Diefenbaker.  I told him that somewhere Dief was smiling.

 

In June, Paul will in fact be attending the same Police Academy session as me.  This makes me feel ancient, as I realized that I am almost twice Paul’s age; we also celebrated his twentieth birthday last weekend as well. My 39^th is only five weeks away.

 

I’ve started physically training hard again, trying to get my triathlon body back.  This winter, I gained some fifteen pounds, as Ray reminded me last month, showering with me one morning. I was scrubbing his body with a loofah.  “You’re getting chubby, Benny,” he remarked. 

 

“Ray,” I said. “I weigh only three pounds more than I did when we moved in together.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. I didn’t say I minded, Benny. I was just sayin’.”

 

“Thanks, Ray.”

 

The next morning I got up at four a.m. for a long run. I am considering competing in another triathlon this summer; it really comes down to Ray and how he feels. If he needs me, then I won't do it.

 

Lately, he’s been feeling much stronger.  Ray received a blood transfusion last month, after continuing to struggle with the chemo-related anemia for a period of time.

 

He still dislikes eating, but Ma has been forcing him to drink three Ensure a day, and we both take turns cooking his favorite foods and making sure he cleans his plate.

 

Dr. Taddeo is extremely pleased with Ray’s progress, and although he is not out of the woods yet, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and so can he.  He cannot wait until he is done with his chemo.  Neither can I. Selfishly, I miss the sex. Ray has been having some erectile dysfunction.  He told me that if I want it, I should ask for it- he still had use of his hands and mouth.  But I don’t want it if he doesn't want it.  That  seems selfish. 

 

He has two more rounds of chemo to go and Dr. Taddeo says the side effects will resolve soon after. I have the date marked on my calendar.

 

Ray has become great friends with his “chemo-buddy” Darcy Dawber.  She has joined us for Sunday dinner several times, although she seldom eats much. She does it for the companionship. I can see that Darcy is a lonely woman, as alone as I was the first day that I flew into Chicago with nothing but a knapsack on my shoulder. 

 

One night after dropping her home, Ray turned to me from the passenger seat and said.  “I get her, Benny.  Maybe she’s the first woman I really get. She’s just like a guy, just with boobs. I didn’t know women could be people.”

 

“That’s right, Ray,” I said with the straightest face possible.  “Women are like people, only with breasts.”

 

“Huh,” he said, completely missing my sarcasm.  “You’re right, Benny. Women ARE like regular people. How ‘bout that?”

 

Two of the men in Ray’s group have completed their treatments, and they were replaced the next round by two more cancer patients.  Ray said that Nurse Rocco told him that the hospital has had to refer some patients to other facilities, as they are at capacity.  I am astounded at the number of people that Ray and I have encountered since his diagnosis who have had cancer, or have known someone who had it or currently have it. Poor Mr. H has been diagnosed now too, terminal.  Truly it has become an epidemic.

 

Ray’s brother came for an extended visit last week.  He came for his namesake’s graduation, and he came to look after Ray for a few days.  He was accompanied by his girlfriend Emelia, whom we met on our trip to Provincetown, Massachusetts.  Ray told me that night in bed that he had asked Paul in private if he thought that he and Emelia would marry and Paul had replied that marriage wasn’t “his thing.”  He didn’t trust the institution, having seen their father violate the rules again and again with no repercussions. Most of Paul’s friends were on divorce #1 or divorce #2 by now.  It seemed to him that marriage was the downfall of many a good relationship.

 

We saw them off last night, promising to visit Boston as soon as we could. I would really enjoy that.  There are so many things that we did not get to see and do while on our short weekend there, namely I did not get to retrace Dr. Prescott’s midnight ride through Massachusetts.  We had been planning to visit last September, but our plans were aborted by the terrorist attacks.

 

My classes will draw to a close this week.  I am at the half-way point in achieving my sociology degree.  Hugh has only a few more classes to go, as he has been able to take more classes per semester than me.  He is certain that he will be finished next May.  One of the men that we met in Ecuador, Umberto, had already been in touch with Hugh to make plans for another holiday trip to build more homes for the needy. Hugh asked me if I was interested in going again. I said that I would be willing to go another time, and only if Ray wanted to come with me, or said it was alright for me to go.  I could tell Hugh was disappointed, but I had no interest in revisiting the place with him. 

 

We have become friends again, of a sort.  He still wants me, and I feel this constant pull from him as a result.  Sometimes, I am uncomfortable in his presence.  We have gotten together within the Sierra Club outings a couple of times this spring.  But I’ve made sure that I interact with many members, not just Hugh.

 

I am cherishing every moment with Ray. It has been wonderful to spend days with him.  On days when he feels good, and the weather is nice, we go for walks.  Sometimes we go for drives.  I’ve been driving lately, so Ray can look out the window and enjoy the scenery. Oftentimes we get out of the city.  The countryside beyond the suburbs is wild and beautiful. 

 

Ray and I talked about starting our family.  Francesca and I decided it was best to talk to him together.  After literally falling out of his seat at the idea of Fran carrying our child, he actually considered the idea seriously and thoughtfully.  There was no shouting nor sarcasm, nor ridicule after the proposal.  Ray said he had some serious thinking to do about the matter. He had disappeared for several hours after Francesca left, and returned late that night.

 

The next morning, he turned to me in bed and pulled me into his arms. He told me that when Dr. Taddeo gave him a clean bill of health, we could discuss the matter again.  But not now.  He wasn’t ready to start making plans for the future.  He was scared to.

 

I would be content with whatever Ray decided.  Truth be told, this child was for him. I’d do anything to give him his heart’s desire. 

 

For me, a life alone with Ray was enough. 

 

I feel poised now, standing at the edge of a precipice.  Life is changing, ever evolving. The day that I retired, it was hard for me to see this, hard for me to see beyond what I already was.  I have a new job starting in a few weeks, perhaps a baby in the near future, maybe even a house soon, too. I would love to own a house!

 

Next weekend, Ray and I are taking Pearson, and we are going to Indiana Dunes.  I have the most blissful memories of there, of having made love in the backseat of the car after sunset.  I realized that night that I loved Ray so much that I had cried tears of joy, aching with the frustration of not being able to completely express the depth of it.   We had both cried.

 

I love my life.  I love Ray.  Even with its ups and downs, I cannot imagine a better life than this.