Posted Thu, 04/24/08
Yesterday was a strange day. I had to undergo outpatient surgery to clean up a nasty infection I developed last week, and my "major" surgery has been put on hold until the infection is completely under control. It might be another two weeks before the "big one."
Outpatient surgery is not a walk in the park, however. I feel as if I've been drugged for two days, and all I seem to do is sleep.
I also found out that my second ex-husband Rocky Hunt passed away, and was buried in Pocatello, Idaho yesterday. Apparently, he had been receiving chemotherapy for a cancerous tumor in his neck. While the tumor was eradicated, the treatment weakened his heart. I was told he died from cardiac arrest.
Even though our divorce left behind bitter feelings, the news of his death was still somewhat of a jolt. At first I felt mild surprise, and then I began thinking of our ten years together, trying to remember the good portions of our relationship (of which there were many in the beginning). This of course made me sad. No matter how angry we were with each other in the end, I still did not wish ill for him, and certainly did not envision a premature death.
I found some old pictures of Rocky with Foofer. Pardon the graininess of the photos, but they were scanned from instant Polaroid's. Click on an image to see its actual size in a new window.
Top row, left to right: Rocky & Foofer asleep (10/19/97); and Rocky holding Foofer's first Halloween pumpkin (10/31/97).
Bottom row, left to right: Foofer & Rocky having breakfast (02/22/98); and Foofer & Rocky saying goodbye to my parents after a visit (10/25/98).
Click on an image to see its actual size in a new window.
The beginning was a romantic whirlwind with Rocky, more so than at any other time in my life. We knew one another for six days before we eloped, and the marriage lasted a decade, longer than my others. He gave me flowers out of the blue all the time, wrote me love letters and little notes for no special reason, and provided a sardonic humor that kept me in stitches. He liked watching The Price is Right, and his favorite breakfast meal was soup.
While the end was miserably filled with interference and resentment, the first years were very giddy and I will always remember that.
All I can do now is recall the good, try to forget the bad, and send a final heartfelt prayer his way.