Sandra: I have read all of your postings and have been deeply touched by them, by your profound love of Chris. I knew that is how it was for the two of you. This must be a very (extremely) painful time. Your ability to express your emotions is remarkable; clear and lucid. Knowing Chris, this is probably one aspect of you he really loved and enjoyed.
When I think of Chris, I often remember joining the Office of Learning Technologies in 2000. He worked there as a student for the summer. I recall conversations at the photocopier; Chris being interested in new people joining the team. I found him an interesting and different individual. He had an interesting mind.
At first, he was only there during the summer but eventually joined the team. We slowly became friends, exchanging ideas about the world, books, music, sharing opinions about what was going on in the office. He explained his condition to me and I began appreciating how he was dealing with it. We talked about it once in a while. I was curious about the processes around it and he was open about answering my questions. He knew I wanted to understand, to learn. He was good at explaining what was happening with his body and the balance of fluids that had to be kept. It made me realize the complications of fine bio-chemical imbalances most of us never have to think about, of the critical function of each organ.
About three years ago, he gave me his five-disk CD player, saying he couldn’t use it anymore (he had bought a multi-bank compact disk system – I think that is the name). He said he was looking for a ‘good home’ for the other one because it was a family gift to him. I have thought of Chris every single time I have put music on.
Whenever I found something was difficult, I reminded myself it couldn’t be as hard as what he was going through with his health. He was a model for me in that sense, being so placid about it, taking life one day at a time. Yes, time… I’m sure it has a very different feel and dimension for you, Sandra, at the moment. Thank you for sharing your loss, at least the part of it you are able to express.