Gary Rinsem

Last Goodbye, Susan

What do I miss? I miss the very rare and subtle challenges Sue would make. I miss her snicker when a challenge was so subtle that it passed without notice. I miss her trying to crawl into bed without waking me. I miss there always being clean clothes left in the washer until they'd dried into a hard lump. I miss her putting off until tomorrow, putting off until tomorrow. That was Susan's strongest skill.

Atypical depression is at least twice more likely to affect women than men. In addition, atypical depression tends to begin at an earlier age (teen years and early 20s) and last longer (often becoming a chronic condition) than typical depression.
Cleveland Clinic

I wrote this a week after Sue died. It spent years as part of her obituary, but I like it better here. The other page should be free of the BS her girl friends pulled.

Some people didn't understand this tribute when I first published it. To help in understanding it now, let me say this; it dishonors a person's memory to tell sugar coated half truths about them. It's pointless. Nobody believes it.

Susan's Pointless Obituary, By Friends

Blaa, Blaa, Blaaa... it say's nothing.

I'm am so sick of those crazy bitchy women having meltdowns over their own mortality. Sue died, you're going to die one day. Get over it. Instead they torture Chuck and I. So... I wrote my own obituary for Sue. I'll have no part in the insane crap they're pulling.


Three wives gone now, there's not much to say. Hospice called too late. Sue died while Andrew and I were driving there. I didn't want her to be alone. I didn't have the strength to ask the nurse if he was with her. I don't want to know because dying alone was one of her fears. I guess it doesn't matter, she was in a comatose state since yesterday and I was with her for the last hours she was conscious. I'll tell myself that's what counts. The nurse said she never regained consciousness. It doesn't really matter now.


I feel a bit better after a good sleep. I've had a year and three months since Susan was diagnosed, more than enough time to say goodbye. Today I'm going to see if Andrew will help clear out the house. I need to get as much of Sue's hoarded junk out as I can, as soon as I can.

More important than the junk, there are too many parrots here. Most have to find homes as fast as possible. Our twelve plus Mary and Andrew's two, is way too many birds. It's not good for them, they haven't been getting the attention they need for a year now.


I know Sue's friends are drunken potheads, but can't they act like caring humans for at least a couple months? Gimme a F-ing break fer cryin out loud.



That's better, got it out of my system.

Susan died and her friends are driving her brother and I crazy, with endless phone calls bitching to us about each other, over Sue's obituary. I should have just taken care of it myself, but I don't care about it. Sue died, text put in the newspaper does nothing.

Today I told Lois to leave me alone, don't call me again. Then I blocked her number. I told Annette I don't give a crap what she puts in Sue's obituary, just leave me out of it!


Guess what! The phone block won't stop text messages.


I was recovering. It was looking like I might live years longer. One of Sue's last thoughts was to tell me I wasn't going to die anytime soon because it had been six months without a complication. Guess what! A complication. I hate hospitals and I hate catheters. Really good nurses make it alright.


My birthday, uh huh, yipee. It just reminds me I haven't seen Vicki in 31 years today.

My department head calls about every other week asking when I'm going back to work. It's been 3 months since August and not nearly enough improvement to return to work. I just keep doing free tech support for the men trying to do my job, and answering questions for the women shuffling papers in the office.

The big news to write, so I can't forget, is Janet showing up unannounced. What a surprise. Fly in and rent a car to take me to lunch on my birthday, like she did every year for over 20 years. Haven't seen her since 09 and haven't talked on the phone since soon after. I thought we'd never see each other again. Changed so much I didn't recognize her at the door until she spoke.


Wonderful. All day and til late last night... wasn't enough for Janet. She was back a few more hours this morning.


Andrew and Mary have been gone about ten days, moved to N. Carolina. I'll never see them again. It's just me, Andy, Eddie and Tyler in the house now. I love those three birds. It's been a long slow road, but all three are happy, healthy and well adjusted now, for captive cockatoos. I'll have to find them new homes. The thought kills me, loss of their voices in the house will make it a very sad place.

If my condition improves a bit more I'll be able to go back to work soon.