Nicole

I am a member of a tiny sorority. 

 

We are a trio of dark-haired, semi-exotic, smart, kind women, and we have all been married to Jeff.  Amy was his high school sweetheart and mother of his daughter.  I am his current wife.  And Nicole...Nicole was my predecessor, and she died of breast cancer when she was only 34.  That was two years ago today.

 

Sometimes when Jeff and I are having fun, it occurs to me that our fun was made possible by the tragic death of a beautiful woman.  I wouldn't even know Jeff if she were still alive.  It's a strange, dark feeling.

 

I have built a sketchy, imagined persona for Nicole based on bits of information I have gleaned over the past sixteen months.  Some of those bits are minor (she had a Southern accent, her eyes were blue, she wore jangly jewelry), and some of them are not (Jeff's daughter adored her, she stood up for what she believed in).  I think that while we have some things in common, I am probably more like Jeff than she was. 

 

When Jeff and I began dating, Nicole fascinated me.  As our love intensified, I wondered if I could possibly measure up to this creature who would remain young as I aged, who had interests that were different from mine, and who shared several precious years with my husband.  Jeff has always answered my questions honestly and without reservation, and he lovingly reassures me when that strange, dark feeling creeps up on me and I start thinking too much.  I marvel at Jeff's strength and I welcome the chance to comfort him when his own unfathomable memories from two years ago surface.  The grief he has been forced to endure during his young life is unimaginable.

 

He loves me.  He loves me.  He loves me.

 

One photo of Nicole is on display in our house, and I remember looking at it when I visited Jeff for the first time.  It's in a small plastic frame on a low bookshelf.  It's not the prettiest photo of Nicole--Jeff has shown me others saved on his computer--but I'm sure it was selected for a reason.  A couple of illustrations Nicole cut out and framed decorate other bookshelves, where some of her books remain.  Psychology textbooks (she was a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Illinois), ADHD children, breastfeeding, relationship self-help, goddess worship, New Age witchy stuff...I am not interested in reading any of them, but she was.  A couple of days ago while I was waiting for my cat to urinate--long story--I opened a random goddess book; Nicole was a pagan priestess, and her altar remains outdoors near our back deck.  I found notes in the book's margins, along with a piece of paper with an outline for some kind of ceremony.  I became fascinated with her penmanship's unique curves, dots, and dashes, kicking myself for being unable to ignore a few misspellings (she was dyslexic).  A couple of closets house a random assortment of what have got to be her clothes, some dressy and some ordinary, and a possible wedding dress under plastic.  I kind of want to look at it, but I kind of don't.

 

Our house is not a shrine to Nicole by any means, but a few other innocuous items can be seen here and there: batik scarves, a frame drum, a wall hanging made from scraps of her clothing and bellydancing costumes.  Nicole taught bellydancing and was apparently a gifted performer with fans who sent their condolences to Jeff via internet message boards.  While she was going through treatment for cancer, she started a breast cancer awareness charity, Bellies for Life, that still continues to raise money through dance performances.  A few of her performances are on YouTube (her stage name was Ishara Gamal), but I've only watched them a couple of times.  They're just too...real.  Also too real is a Live Journal that still exists wherein Nicole describes her day-to-day battle with cancer.  I can't bring myself to look at it yet, although a friend who read it assures me that I will love Jeff even more if I do.  I don't know if that's possible.

 

Nicole's cat Hypatia is a strange alien creature so tiny and lithe I could probably pull her through my wedding ring.  When she cuddles with me, sometimes I remember what Jeff's mother told me: Hypatia was Nicole's constant companion when she was sick in bed.  I kiss the top of this gorgeous cat's sweet head and know that Nicole has kissed Hypatia there also.

 

And then I think: well, obviously she's kissed Jeff too.

 

Obviously. 

 

It's so easy to forget about that.  Jeff makes me feel like I'm the only woman in the world, and I am so deeply in love with him I can't quite believe it.  But at the same time I am part of a tiny sorority, along with a sort of sister I never met, all of us connected to each other through our love of this strong, brave, good man.

 

Nicole died in his arms.  If there's any justice in the universe, he will die in mine.

Comments

[KRM]

Accepting this plurality (or, since I am a licensed English Major, asingularity) is difficult and transformational. Without that acceptance it would be difficult to achieve the humanity and deep empathy evinced by your post.

I wish I had spent more time with Nicole, but I squandered those opportunities. I console myself with the knowledge that my loss simply gave her more time alone with Jeff.

Life is often hard...but things can be hard and sweet at the same time. The hardship Jeff and Nicole had couldn't outweigh the joy.

May the same be true for you...go mbeadh na croithe a bhfuil gra agat doibh bheith fior.

[Kelly]

Thank you for reading and commenting, K!

I can't imagine a more beautiful morning: windows open, goldfinches and indigo buntings in the back yard, trees in bloom, no particular place to go, and Jeff soaking it all up with me. I don't take a second of this for granted.

[Elizabeth]

What a beautiful post Kelly.

[Sarah]

Hi Kelly ~
I found your blog through your sister and have read many of your posts...I plan on getting through the rest soon.

This one was so sweet, I got a limp in my throat when I read it. Your love for Jeff is apparent and your respect for Nicole is heartfelt - what a classy lady you are!

You have yourself a new loyal reader....

[dana]

My current husband is jealous of a man I was engaged to back in '92 :(
Your acceptance of your husband's past relationship with Nicole is such a blessing for him and for you. It allows you both to have even more space to love each other. It allows him to be free to remember her at times without feeling a hard knot of guilt or "hiding." That's how I see it based on my own experience. I loved how you wrote about your "sorority." It was really touching and actually helpful for me :)
Thanks.

[Kelly]

Wow, Dana, I had no idea that this might help someone. :) I was a little dubious about dating a widower at first, but Jeff has been amazing since day one. I am so happy we're together. Best decision I've ever made.

[Annie]

Wow you are a really accepting and understanding person. I think it's really beautiful that you and Jeff have such a strong relationship. I think if I were in your place I'd be kind of creeped out by Nicole's stuff. I mean I get it that they loved each other and I wouldn't necessarily say to throw the stuff away, but you know maybe put it away or something. Anyway this is an old post so now that you're married I'm sure things might have changed. Something like this probably takes time and a strong dedicated relationship. Anyway I really like your blog it's really interesting and I love all the recipes.

[Joy Corcoran]

My good friend Kristen Dean-Grossman sent me a link to this post. She thought it would resonate with me since I just posted a similar one about accepting a late beloved wife and marrying a widower. I am moved by your story and must again appreciate the use of the word "sorority" What great insights you have. I'm looking forward to exploring more of your blog. Many Thanks!

[Kelly Eddington]

Thank you, Joy (and Kristen!). :)