Volume 2 Book 3 Part 5 of
Living In The Bonus Round
by Steve Schalchlin.

Death of a friend.

 

Richard Lee Remley

May 12, 1954 - January 25, 2000

We Will Always Be
Connected To Each Other

[ Diary Index ]
[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ] [ Part 4 ] [ Part 5 ]

January 2000. El Lay, San Francisco.

Saturday-Wednesday, January 1-5, 2000.
Dickie In Trouble Again.

This is the latest message from Gail who is taking care of Dickie:

well... i finally got home health care in - she was there for exactly 2 hours before dickie's doctor slapped him back in the hospital. i had called the doctor the day before and asked him to just meet us in the ER that nite and drain some of this fluid cuz he can't *breathe* and it was just getting worse and worse.

but he said no, bring him to the office tomorrow at 1:45, so (thank god the home health care person was there, i couldn't have gotten him there alone) we took him over there, he took one look at him and said "take him straight to admitting, don't stop at the ER, i'll call ahead, just get him over there". then we had a five minute argument because dickie does NOT want to be back into the hospital and i had promised him i'd not let them readmit him - but....

they want to do the drain from the back instead of thru the tube down his throat (which he *hates*) and that requires several bags of plasma and fluids before the procedure so finally dickie agreed, with the doctor promising to get him in and out of there as quickly as possible. they had him in a room, in a bed and oxygen already going in *under an hour*.

amazing - they actually *can* move quickly. so they're supposed to do the drain this morning and then see how he's doing. and oh jeez, he developed an allergic rash to one of the meds they prescribed when they released him last week (he had developed shingles in the hospital) so now we have to find a workaround for that.

and i'm developing a whole new perspective on medicare & health care in general - when they released him last week they gave me five prescriptions - which came to almost *$700* and NONE of it is covered by medicare. how in the hell are people supposed to PAY for this stuff? i make pretty good money and i know *i* couldn't pay like that for very long, how do people do it? i couldn't help but think "this would have cost me TOPS $40 because i have insurance"... it truly floored me.

i like his case manager tho, boy, she jumped all over the home health care people cuz they kept calling and saying "we'll have someone there in an hour", then they'd call back and say "we'll have someone there in a couple of hours" and then "we'll have someone there tomorrow" etc.... so she came over yesterday and looked at him and just blew it - got on the phone and went *off* on these people, and someone was there in 1/2 hour.

and i liked her too (nadia - the home health care person) except i had to laugh, she came in and started cleaning the house like crazy, but then we went to the doctor so by the time we got back to the house it was time for her to go and i wound up having to clean up everything that she had started and put everything back away. just what i needed after a long emotional day :-)

and oh god, she started *crying* when we got back to the house and i asked her what was wrong and she launched into this big long story about how one of her dogs killed her other dog so her husband had both of her remaining dogs put to sleep (they were pit bulls) and she pulled out all these pictures and was showing them to me and crying and i'm thinking "i'm in the twilight zone, right? this *has* to be some kind of weird twilight zone episode", i mean, i like dogs and all and i'm sorry about hers but there was a *little* bit more going on in my head/ heart/mind than that, lol, it was surreal.

anyway, that was our day yesterday! we'll see how today goes. keep the prayers coming and all of you who've volunteered to come over and help, Thank You, we'll just have to take it day by day and see what's up. love you all

-gail

Thursday-Monday, January 6-10, 2000.
Power of Music.

Last night Bob Cox came over with his guitar. I tried to stop him at the door cuz I have a 101.5 fever and have been bundled up on the couch all day trying not to be sick for my San Francisco trip this coming weekend.

But he persisted and I began teaching him some of the new songs we're going to perform together in Pasadena on March 6th -- "Where Is God," "Near You," "James Robison" and "Lazarus." Actually I only get to sing three songs so I have to choose.

We jammed for about a half hour. That's all I had energy for. After we finished playing, I noticed that my t-shirt was soaking wet but I was feeling less "feverish." So I took my temperature and sure enough, playing my songs had broken my fever!

Think I could market my songs as a cure for this new flu bug that's been going around?
 

January 11-14, 2000.
Can A Ghost Die?

This is a diary page I have been avoiding. I want to express my full emotions here but they are so confused and there is such a feeling of loss, I don't know how to access them except to just tell you what happened.

Ghost, Jerome David Gaither, died of cardio pulmonary disease this past Sunday. I found out when I called him to tell him my fever had broken and that I could visit him. You see, this past weekend, he had begged me to come see him because he was lying in bed alone and very bored. But I declined because I had a fever at the time and didn't want to give him anything, given the fragility of his health.

But I felt bad because he really sounded lonely and sad and bored. His life for the past two years has been one of being connected to an oxygen tank in a tiny room with a TV and computer, sometimes a hospital room. Sometimes not.

A couple of months ago he had gotten up to get a Coke, dropped the can on his foot and ended up in the hospital, almost dying. Out of that he got a tracheotomy which left him voiceless and bored, lying in the ICU.he only food he could eat was canned liquid nourishment which was, toward the end, pumped into his stomach.

Several times I took him shopping. He delighted in getting into the little carts and driving around the store causing havoc in every aisle.

He knew there was no chance he would ever get better and many times told me that he didn't know if he even wanted to live.

However, this past holiday he was very upbeat.  When Jimmy and I visited him on Christmas Day he was feeling way better and he was full of life, taping a little greeting to Dickie to tell him that fighting for life was worth it no matter how terrible it might seem. I hadn't seen Jerry this energized in a long time. So the news of his passing was a shock.

Maybe this is a good thing that he went during this time rather than a time when he hated living and was so utterly miserable.

The one thing he loved the most was when I talked about him in the diary. He loved seeing his name and he wanted people to know he existed! So there is an element of Save Me A Seat in this.

For those of you who don't know, Ghost was the first person I met online with whom I formed a long lasting friendship. He helped me learn about ISPs and the internet and how to make a webpage. He took TLS on as a personal project and would play the CD endlessly for all his nurses and doctors. He was very proud to announce to everyone that HE was the first person who knew it was going to be a "big hit show."

At the Zephyr Theatre reading, he made flyers for the show and took them to the AIDS orgs. He brought roses and a crutch (as in, "break a leg"). In many ways, TLS gave him something to live for as he watched us go from my first solo concerts to a workshop production to off-Broadway.

I remember for opening night in NY he pretended to have bought plane tickets. Then at the exact hour the curtain went up, he laid there alone in his bed, put on the recording of the songs and pretended to be in New York. (Was that the night he had a seizure and was rescued by people who heard the music playing too loudly into the night?)

Oh, man. The history of TLS was colored and enlivened and energized by Jerome David Gaither. It was one of my proudest days when, after getting sick over and over again, we finally were able to take him to see the show up on Sunset Blvd. The Sessionauts had made up a big poster with balloons and his name. This delighted him even though he was too weak to stay and chat with folks afterwards.

It's hard for me to not regret the things I didn't do for him. I know I could have been there more. But knowing how much TLS meant to him and how much he loved being a part of this whole story, I realize that we gave him life and hope and joy and happiness. It WAS his life for the past couple of years. Of that I shall always be proud.

A couple of memories:

When I came back from NY I had a CD and a poster so I slipped into his room, found him asleep, hung the poster on his TV, opened the CD, and put a signed Playbill just for him on his tray. When he woke up he was so excited! But angry at me that I left and hadn't wakened him.

I remember being there one time when his doctor came in and he suddenly got all excited and told the doctor I was this "famous" songwriter who was his friend -- "You know the music I play here all the time??" he asked the doctor. "This is him! This is the composer!"

Last month, after my long tour, I visited him in the hospital when he had the tube in his trachea. I was sitting there rattling off stories from the road. He said to me, "You're one of the few who knows how to visit me. Some just sit and watch TV. You tell stories."

If Ghost had one agony in his life that superceded the physical pain, it was the fact that he was estranged from his son. I once walked in when he was trying to talk to the son on the phone to no avail. Jerry fell into my arms and wept.

Ghost made a website a couple of years ago when we were in New York. That is when he began calling himself "The Ghost of The Last Session." There is a page where he asks to be allowed to audition for TLS, a page about how far we had traveled to finally arrive in New York and a very vivid page about how you know if you're "connected." An excerpt:

If you know the shortest route between the lab and the pharmacy... you may be connected.

If you know the longest route between the lab and the pharmacy... you may be connected.

If you know where every bathroom is on the route between the lab and the pharmacy... you may be connected...

The site is at http://www.geocities.com/Broadway/Stage/9984/ and features a poem by one Beau Burnside III -- AKA Jerome David Gaither. It's quite striking so I'll close this memorial to him with his own words. Jerry, I cannot fathom life without you so I'm glad you'll be forever watching over us as the Ghost of The Last Session.

GHOST

Dungeons Dank with rotting needs?
Not for us, my Friends!
Wails of Anguish, from fears unknown?
Not for us, my Friends!
My Friends!

Instead I plead,
Lift your eyes towards heaven,
Keep grasping for the spice that leavens:
Laughter, Tears, Emotions varied;
Light our way, while here we tarry.
My Friends!

Angels around to help us see,
that perfection, FINISHED, we will never BE.
But in your HEART, there BE the seed,
So trust your HEART!
And let it BE, for my HEART,

©1997 Beau Burnside III
All Rights Reserved

January 15-17, 2000.
A Short Letter to God.
 

Dear God,

San Francisco has been beautiful this weekend. The sun has been shining, the air is clear and healthy, the people loving and supportive. I've had a blast visiting with my friend Ken McPherson and the Sunday morning service at Dolores Street Baptist Church was just as fulfilling and peaceful as I knew it would be. They might be the most loving group of people I've ever met. Thanks for bringing them to me.

You know, God, I learned a long time ago that, even though it seems like we can't, we must allow life to continue even through great tragedy and loss. Life is for the living and while we must give ourselves permission to mourn our losses and think of those who are in pain, the best way to survive is to continue to plow on ahead, remembering the lesson that time and life are our most valuable commodities.  But it hurts, Lord. It feels weird to just go on as if nothing is happening.

Speaking of which, Your Eternalness, in case you don't read the TLS list, here's the latest note from Gail regarding Dickie who is in such pain and misery, he's asking for hospice care:
 

"it hasn't been a particularly good week.  hearing of ghost's death  made my stomach just.... drop - because of ghost,  because i knew steve was a wreck over it, and because it hit so close to home.  that evening i had dickie readmitted to the hospital.  he's so weak now, and so tired of this. we talked about hospice care this weekend and he's decided that's what he wants,  he just wants to be made comfortable now.

"he's always been such a fighter, but he knew what he was fighting before - we don't anymore.  none of the meds we give him or the food we feed him make any difference at all.  after all those weeks in the hospital in december, when all the tests were being done
and all the doctors *finally* agreed that ok, yes, it's his liver....friday his G.I. told me he's still not convinced that's true. so what are we doing? what are we fighting?  why are we
shoving all these meds that make him miserable into him three times a day if they don't even know that's what he needs?  he can't walk anymore, and he's been off his AIDS meds so long now his immune system is collapsing again.  so... i respect this decision
and am helping him do what he wants.

"thank you sarah for ALL your help on this - you enlightened both of us and helped us take this step.

"and thanks everyone for all your constant thoughts and prayers. don't stop - miracles *do* happen.

-gail"
 

Steve again, God: I wrote back to Gail and told her that I was beginning to just feel numb over Dickie. I know he's in such a miserable state of pain and agony, the only thing going through my mind is, Please Lord, spare him this misery even if it means I have to lose him.

The thing about Dickie is that he's such a survivor. He's such a fighter. He's had more close calls than just about anyone I know. So I have had this "sure he'll get through it" voice in the back of my head. But I watched Ghost hang on, endlessly revisiting the hospital and endlessly in a state of just "hanging on" -- and I know it's little more than just torture. And the state Dickie is in cannot even be described. I don't even know how to fathom how he feels. At my lowest and most pitiful I wasn't even close to this.

So God, you know how much Dickie means to Gail and to me and to us. But if the only way he can be released from this hideous state is for you to take him home, then do it. Please surround him with your comforting arms and bring him to a place of rest and peace.

But, God, if it's possible to let him live longer without him having to be endlessly tortured, then let us have that time with him. He just has this way of making us remember how incredible it is to be alive. He has loved us so much.

Helplessly yours,

Steve

January 17, 2000.
Dickie Asks for Peace.

i've been out of the office (at his house and the hospital) until today so i just got this message.  i posted to the list this morning and you've probli seen that by now.... he just wants to die now, he's tired of trying, and trying is getting him nowhere.  he's so weak, he can't walk, someone has to be there with him 24/7.  i have home health care there during the day, and either bob or i have been there at nite, but he's decided he wants hospice now. he wants morphine and to just stop all the treatment and die.

IF (and that's a big IF it seems) something comes thru in the form of a liver transplant - Great!  but i honestly don't think his docs are even looking and we're (bob & i) getting pissed over the whole thing, it's like they all just abandoned him.

so.... hospice is being "set up", i don't know how long it will take to get that in place, hopefully not too long because i know, from the past few months, that by thursday he'll need to go to hospital again and he so doesn't want any more of that.

this is REALLY rough, i'm having a hard time (today particularly for some reason) going thru with this, i feel like i'm sentencing him to death, even tho that *is* what he wants at this point. even knowing that he can change his mind and "opt out" of hospice, i think once it starts, death will be quick.  he's so weak.

i refuse to put him INTO a hospice facility - whatever they do they're going to have to do at home, i'm not going to let him die in unfamiliar surroundings.

shannon came over yesterday but he didn't want to see her (or rather, didn't want her to see him).  he's covered in blood half the time, his nose is bleeding all the time and he rarely gets out of bed.  occassionally we can get him to come into the den and eat but most of the time now, he's in bed.

i don't know what you can or should do.  call and ask if you can see him, but don't be hurt or surprised if he says no or can't even talk to you, talking is difficult too.

let me know how it goes.  boy, this one hurts, more than i could ever imagine.

love you,

gail

January 19, 2000.
Coordinating Hospice.

dear steve,

jimmy (yes, your jimmy) got the brunt of my tears and ranting on the phone last night.  we got dickie admitted into hospice (at home), got all that done, then the hospice people called his doctor requesting something for pain to make him comfortable, something to help him sleep, and oxygen.  his doctor said "absolutely not, it would kill him".

WHAT?  he's DYING, just help him get through it for goddsakes, i thought that's what the whole point of this was.  even the hospice lady was bewildered at his response and i'm just.... hurt, furious and... lost, i don't know what to do now (except call his doctor this morning and rail at him).  i'd like to invite him to come over to the house for an hour and then tell me he's not suffering.

steve, you and jimmy are coming over at 5 tonite (you may not know that yet if you haven't talked to jimmy yet) and i feel like i should give you some kind of advance warning.  he's much sicker than the last time you saw him - the ammonia level in his blood is rising rapidly and he's pretty incoherent and unable to communicate, so just... love him. i know you do.

-gail

January 19, 2000.
Saying Goobye to Dickie.

 
Sent to the TLS list: I'm sure parts of this will end up in a diary page but right now I don't have the energy to do a whole diary page. But since so many of you want to know how Dickie's doing, I'll give you a short recap. (Gail's responses in blue).

He's lying in a hospital bed in his big dayroom. His friend Bob, who has acted as his caregiver on and off since 1992 greeted Jimmy and me at the door. He said the hospice worker had been there earlier and had said that Dickie looks as if he's really near the end with maybe a couple of days left. Maybe less.

i'm so glad you were able to make it over to the house tonite. we just got the hospital bed this afternoon, we wanted him out in the family room with us.

(steve & I talked on the phone while he was there, both of us sobbing on the phone to each other)... this is so rough. amazingly, just last saturday when we got out of the hospital, we went to the store, went to the bank - he was able to do all that.  it's unfathomable to me that was just 4 days ago, and now we have *maybe* 72 hours left, and probably less.  i'll be staying there from tomorrow morning on.

i called his BA facilitators tonite and asked them to come by, there were specific ones he wanted to see, so they'll be coming by tomorrow.  and please, if any of you are planning to send flowers or anything, please donate to Being Alive instead.

Bob said to just talk to him as if he could hear us even though he might not respond. Basically he was warning us that it might be shocking for us. But Dickie actually looked kinda good. (He'd like knowing that).
Jimmy and I sat down on the couch and leaned over to talk to him. He was kinda bunched up against the railing of the bed -- Bob said no matter where he puts him on the bed he always ends up snuggling to the right. We just started telling him how much we love him. I told him both Jimmy and Jess were going to write plays about him, that I had put his picture up on the diary page and that he had friends all over the country that loved him and were thinking of him.

I told him that his work with PWAs had saved many lives, that he made life worth living for a lot of people and I thanked him for loving me so much and being a part of my life. During this time he would sometimes move his hand.

A couple of times he opened his eyes but they were focused on the ceiling. I had the feeling that he was hearing us but he couldn't really acknowledge it in any conscious way.

Jimmy took my place and began talking to him, reminding him of the piano he bought for me to practice on. Then he told Dickie I was going to go play music for him. I went into the living room and immediately played "Save Me A Seat." I also played "Lazarus" and "When You Care," I think.

Jimmy told me that when the music started Dickie kind of rolled over and opened his eyes. "He was practically dancing!" Jimmy said.

This morning, in the shower at Ken's place in San Francisco, I completely lost it, by the way. Ken heard me and walked into the bathroom asking, "What are you laughing about?" (He had been asleep when I got Gail's earlier message).

Then he realized I wasn't laughing. The heaving sobs were coming from such a deep place in my guts it sounded like I was laughing. Isn't that weird?

Okay, I'm home now. My eyes feel huge, swollen from all the crying. This might be the hardest thing I have ever experienced. The emotions are so intense, the sadness I feel so profound, the finality of it all so
heartlessly cold, I'm getting numb. I'm so glad I have Jimmy here sharing the pain and making me laugh.
 

i've been that way all week, and of course everytime someone at work asks "are you okay?" it brings on another torrent and i
just cant even begin to tell them what's going on.  i've been "fine" (fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional) until this week, but this progressed so rapidly this week and all the drama with his doctor
and hospice certainly didnt help.

thank you all for being there for dickie and for ME.  you're all going to have to hold steve, jimmy and i up for awhile, this is, i agree, the hardest thing i've ever experienced.  and don't forget bob... altho you don't know him, he's been in this with me for the last 2 months, helping me cope, relieving each other, crying together, and he's a basket case too.  keep him in your prayers.

I love you all.

Steve
DIKI FOREVER

January 20, 2000.
Saying Goodbye to Dickie.
 

Dickie & Gail (from Gail's private collection)

1/21:
 

For some weird reason I was dreaming about "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" as I was waking up this morning. Totally engulfed in whatever drama was happening with dear Buffy, it took me about a minute before I remembered that Dick was dying. That he is lying in a coma-like state while Gail and his friend Bob and others talk to him and wait for the end.

I stumbled downstairs to get the newspaper and all I could think of was my friend lying there after 18 or 19 years of surviving AIDS. He spent so many years as an AIDS activist, took so many trips to the brink of death, all I am thinking is that he will suddenly wake up and be okay again. What's really nice is that our extended online family is regrouping cyberly through the TLS list where everyone is telling Dickie Stories.

I mean, what else can you do? We all feel so helpless. Our hearts are broken in ways none of us can truly describe. We find ourselves weeping at the drop of a hat. When Jimmy woke up I went to make his coffee and suddenly just broke down in his arms. He is trying to make jokes and keep us functioning, but I can hear it in his voice, too.

Dickie in Boston

Aunt Michael called us from Prague where he is producing a movie. He sent his love to everyone and I could hear the sadness in his voice. I can't even call Ronda. Just hearing her voice would send me off the deep end. You understand, don't you, Ronda?
I just keep seeing Dickie lying in that bed, crouched against the right side of the bed, plastic tubes affixed to his nose, Gail and Bob quietly just waiting, waiting, waiting.

I just can't bear that it's Dickie who is dying.

1/20/2000
I Can't Let Go.

 
Last night we had a full eclipse of the moon.  When I woke up from my Sustiva dreams this morning, I had about five minutes of absolute peace before I suddenly remembered that Dickie was dying and that Jimmy and I had said our goodbyes to him yesterday. So this morning I scoured my site and the Benny Tour Rent site to find more pictures of our beloved friend.

FOR DICKIE

The earth's shadow might succeed
in covering the moon
and everyone might stop
at least a minute to look up

but words you hear on the night of this happening
can make anything's importance questionable

the earth's shadow might succeed
in blanketing the moon
but we look up for a different reason, one far truer

we look up to see
if the brightest star
in the pinpricked sky
can burn so brightly
as the passion
       kindness
       love
       and friendship
that has burned in a person we all love

the earth's shadow might succeed in hiding the moon
but earth's shadow cannot hide, cannot ever
the things we love about dickie
the things we learn from dickie
the essences to be carried with us

not in vain
not in vain
not over
not in vain
not in vain

i love you dickie
 

-- Michael Hobbs

An email to the TLS LIST: I'm sure parts of this will end up in a diary page but right now I don't have the energy to do a whole diary page. But since so many of you want to know how Dickie's doing, I'll give you a short recap. (Gail's responses in blue).

He's lying in a hospital bed in his big dayroom. His friend Bob, who has acted as his caregiver on and off since 1992 greeted Jimmy and me at the door. He said the hospice worker had been there earlier and had said that Dickie looks as if he's really near the end with maybe a couple of days left. Maybe less.

i'm so glad you were able to make it over to the house tonite. we just got the hospital bed this afternoon, we wanted him out in the family room with us.

(steve & I talked on the phone while he was there, both of us sobbing on the phone to each other)... this is so rough. amazingly, just last saturday when we got out of the hospital, we went to the store, went to the bank - he was able to do all that.  it's unfathomable to me that was just 4 days ago, and now we have *maybe* 72 hours left, and probably less.  i'll be staying there from tomorrow morning on.

i called his BA facilitators tonite and asked them to come by, there were specific ones he wanted to see, so they'll be coming by tomorrow.  and please, if any of you are planning to send flowers or anything, please donate to Being Alive instead.

Dickie and Steve at RENT. Look at that smile of his.

Bob said to just talk to him as if he could hear us even though he might not respond. Basically he was warning us that it might be shocking for us. But Dickie actually looked kinda good. (He'd like knowing that).

Dickie young & as the Blue Avenger. Yes, he was a pro rassler.

Jimmy and I sat down on the couch and leaned over to talk to him. He was kinda bunched up against the railing of the bed -- Bob said no matter where he puts him on the bed he always ends up snuggling to the right. We just started telling him -- sobbing loudly -- how much we love him. I told him both Jimmy and Jess were going to write plays about him, that I had put his picture up on the diary page and that he had friends all over the country that loved him and were thinking of him. By now my tears were out of control.

I told him that his work with PWAs had saved many lives, that he made life worth living for a lot of people and I thanked him for loving me so much and being a part of my life. During this time he would sometimes move his hand.

Dickie with Gail

A couple of times he opened his eyes but they were focused on the ceiling. I had the feeling that he was hearing us but he couldn't really acknowledge it in any conscious way.

Jimmy took my place and began talking to him, reminding him of the piano he bought for me to practice on. Then he told Dickie I was going to go play
music for him. I went into the living room and immediately played "Save Me A Seat." I also played "Lazarus" and "When You Care," I think.

Jimmy told me that when the music started Dickie kind of rolled over and opened his eyes. "He was practically dancing!" Jimmy said.

Dickie with Tracey and Marc at the Baltimore Convention

This morning, in the shower back at Ken's place in San Francisco, I completely lost it, by the way. Ken heard me and walked into the bathroom asking, "What are you laughing about?" (He had been asleep when I got Gail's earlier message).

Then he realized I wasn't laughing. The heaving sobs were coming from such a deep place in my guts it sounded like I was laughing. Isn't that weird?

Dickie, Barefoot Ron, Gail, Michael Sugar, Steve in Baltimore

Okay, I'm home now. My eyes feel huge, swollen from all the crying. This might be the hardest thing I have ever experienced. The emotions are so intense, the sadness I feel so profound, the finality of it all so heartlessly cold, I'm getting numb. I'm so glad I have Jimmy here sharing the pain and making me laugh.
 

Dickie in Baltimore
(photo by amy)

i've been that way all week, and of course everytime someone at work asks "are you okay?" it brings on another torrent and i just cant even begin to tell them what's going on.  i've been "fine" (fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional) until this week, but this progressed so rapidly this week and all the drama with his doctor and hospice certainly didnt help.

thank you all for being there for dickie and for ME.  you're all going to have to hold steve, jimmy and i up for awhile, this is, i agree, the hardest thing i've ever experienced.  and don't forget bob... altho you don't know him, he's been in this with me for the last 2 months, helping me cope, relieving each other, crying together, and he's a basket case too.  keep him in your prayers.

I love you all.

Steve
DIKI FOREVER

Dickie (right) with Charles Nelson Reilly and Michele Mais

1/22/00.
A Brief Moment of Hope.
 

Do you people believe in the power of love?

Dickie was increasingly having worse nights where he shifted every thirty. So Gail called the hospice people who called the doctor who finally prescribed him some heavy duty pain pills. Gail gave him the lowest possible dose last night and he finally slept like a baby.

Then this morning, Gail said she and Bob were in the room when suddenly Dickie spoke, "I want a popsicle."

This from a man who's been in a death coma for a week. They ran into the kitchen and got him a popsicle. He's now eaten about 10 of them. I just went over there to see it for myself, joyfully wishing and hoping all the way. I went in and made some joke about my new glasses, "Hey!" I said. "Like my new glasses? Aren't I cute?"

He said, "I wouldn't say cute."

He was MAKING JOKES!!!! We don't know what to think. Is that little son of a bitch actually gonna come out of this??? He can't really carry on a conversation. His voice is very weak and I couldn't really understand it when he tried to speak but he's awake and alive and I got to feed him two popsicles while I was there.

I also played the piano while Gail stood behind me holding me and crying. It was glorious.

Dickie & Steve in Baltimore
(photo by Tracey)

Finally, I went back in there and said to him, "Tell me, do you WANT to live? Are you fighting to survive?" And he said, "Yes!" I said, "Good because I don't want to have to tell you the Potsie story again. That'll kill ya for sure."

So I don't want to get my hopes up too far. (TOO LATE). It's possible this is just a last gasp. He's still copper colored and very ill. But how can I not be ecstatic?? We might just have our Dickie around for awhile longer. And of course he's going to KILL me for putting his wrestling pictures up on my site, but I'll gladly take all the abuse he can muster if he's alive enough to do it.

Keep your prayers and love coming his way.

HAPPY STEVE!!!!!

1/25/2000.
Dickie has died.

Gail just called me and said that Dickie died at 3:25pm today in his sleep. This is totally what he wanted because his life was nothing but torture with his failed liver and related complications. I think when he woke up the other day he was basically just telling us goodbye even if he didn't consciously know it. He has found the peace he was craving.

Gail said a little while ago they were lying in bed together and he looked up at the doorway and said, "Look, all my friends are here. All the ones who I saw die. Don't you see them? They're waiting for me." (This was just a couple of days ago. Gail said it has happened several times.)

Jimmy and I are crying on each other. I don't know what else to say except to say how much I love Gail and how much Dickie also loved her. She really was the love of his life. He told me so many, many times.

Our lives are richer for having known him. I love you, Dickie. Watch over us. We'll be remembering you always -- and yes, we will always save you a seat.

Steve
 

1/26-27/2000.
A Dream & A Plaque.

Last night I had this vivid dream that Dickie once again popped his eyes open and was alive. He was like as fragile as little kid and I was holding him on my hip, like a mom holds a baby and we were running around laughing.

And Gail was there crying and we were all so joyful that he had beaten death again. The we went to a theatre where I argued with some guy to let him have this really comfortable, cushy seat because he was still really thin. And I saved the seat next to him for Gail who was on her way behind us.

In the dream I was thinking to myself. "Oh great! Now I have to send ANOTHER huge email out to everyone and all my lists telling them he's still alive. They're never going to believe ANYTHING I say anymore!"

When I woke up from the dream, it took a few seconds for reality to kick in as I realized that he hadn't cheated death again. But as I sit here typing this, it dawns on me that it was a message from him letting me know he's so happy to be free of the pain he's been living with, free to bounce around joyfully as we mourn him and that wherever he is, he's on the cushiest seat in the house, surrounded by all his friends who went before him.

Jimmy said we want to schedule a memorial service for him so that we can all mourn together and tell Dickie stories and sing for him. We also want to take up a little collection so that we can put a plaque on his grave that says, "We will always be connected to each other." Gail and I talked about yesterday. It will give us all a chance to be a part of his memorial.

Yesterday when Gail called with the news of his passing, she invited me to come to the house but I just couldn't. I just couldn't bear to see his body even though I'm sure she needed me. The last thing we did together was me giving him a popsicle and kissing his hands and feet telling him how much I absolutely loved him -- and how much everyone on the list absolutely loved him and was pulling for him.

I needed that moment, that memory. I know it was a purely selfish act to not be there for you. Please forgive me, Gail. I love you but the pain is overwhelming right now. After she called me I sent out a broadcast email and then logged off. It was just too much. Thank you, Dickie, for visiting me in my dreams last night. Thank you for being our friend.

1/28 - 2/2/2000.
Trying to Let Go.

I've been a hermit this past week. And get this, I even cleaned the house -- bathroom and all -- without waiting for Jimmy to start hinting around about it. Thank goodness Jimmy is out of the house a lot because he'd have to watch me just break out in tears ten times a day.

For instance, right now in San Francisco there is a big AIDS Conference and these long reports having been dropping into my inbox. It was Dickie who used to translate all the medical-speak for me and it was he who taught me about the AIDS virus.

I'm not the only one. Jimmy's feeling it, too. He even designed a quilt for him. And while we carry on with our day to day activities, the emptiness looms, hanging in the air, coloring everything.

I have occupied my mind by sitting in the chair 12 hours a day working on the musical scores to my new songs. This is a difficult process and painstaking process for me. It took me over a week just to get "A Simple Faith" down in a rough version.

But the meticulousness of concentrating on this is very therapeutic. Makes me glad I'm a musician. Speaking of which, I've also been working on tour dates. You can find the latest updates at http://www.bonusround.com/tour.

Working on the songs, though, brings me back to when Dickie and I were in Omaha this past summer. We were staying as guests in a private home where there was a perfectly tuned Yamaha grand piano sitting on a stone floor.

I would sit for hours and just play the songs over and over. Dickie would sometimes come into the room and lie under the piano just listening. He particularly loved "Lazarus."

(It was there, also, that I was playing alone one morning watching a silent search and rescue on a TV newscast in the adjoining room  -- John Kennedy Jr.'s). Right now as I'm typing this there is a new search and rescue happening for a downed plane, Alaska Airlines.

I finally ventured out of the house Monday night because Jimmy was giving out the Best Musicals Awards at the Backstage West Garlands. I did okay until I saw Karen and Julie. I only broke down for a moment, but it reminded me how close to the surface this pain is.

I also know that I will work through this. They tell me that this is part of the mourning process, this feeling so lost and crying all the time. It feels as if my heart has just kinda shut down because I think if I really understood the depth of the loss to the world of Richard Remley, it would be too much to bear.

I'm going to private memorial "services" this weekend and next. I hope they'll help. I thank you, reader, for your love and your emails and your concern.

2/2-2/8/2000.
Letter to God 2.

Dear God, it's been a couple of weeks since I wrote you asking if it would be okay if Dickie stuck around a little while longer. But I don't blame you for taking him. Gail said he was hurting so much and was in so much pain, there wasn't much else you could do.

I do have to say, though, that I was very annoyed when I got an email from the big AIDS conference saying they were finally going to start a trial program to give liver transplants to people with AIDS. It felt like a knife going through my heart.

It reminded me of Jimmy's favorite joke. Tell someone to ask you: "What's the secret to comedy?" Then when they start to ask the question you interrupt them by saying, "TIMING" before they can get the question out. It's just hilarious, God.

My friend Bev, who has lost two kids and a best friend or two tells me it takes a long time to get through the stages of grief. Like, last week I was sitting here doing my music scoring, tediously trying to get my mind off of Dickie being dead and for a few days, I didn't cry a single time. In fact, everytime I thought about him -- which was a lot -- I felt as dry as a piece of 6 day old toast.

Then this past weekend, a bunch of the Sessionauts plus Gail and Joey and CeCe and Katie got together at Ian's house for a Dickie party and I wasn't feeling sad at all! I played the piano a little, played Shawn Decker's home video for them -- by the way, God, he looks hilarious in Goth eye make-up.

He was at this little club in Virginia playing his techno music. First thing he said was, "I am dedicating this night to a valiant wrestler, the Blue Avenger!" Then he pointed over in the corner and there was a manniken dressed up like Dickie as the Blue Avenger. Out in the audience you could see all these kids with Mohawks and black clothes. (God, don't let Dickie see it -- he was always embarrassed by that costume even though Shawn thinks it's the coolest.)
 
 

Anyway, at the party I wasn't feeling sad at all. Katie cried in my arms when she heard Bob Stillman's version of "Going It Alone" on the new CD. But that was about it. At one point I asked everyone if we wanted to have a "Dickie Moment" but no, it wasn't right. TIMING. It was enough just to be together.

By the way, I added Marie Cain to the Bonus Round site. You can find her at: http://www.bonusround.com/marie. She's hilarious, God. You really do know how to make 'em.

One last thing, my right eye is swelling up and turning red a lot. You can kinda see it in this picture Gail took at the party:
 

 
To finish up, God, for some reason last week when I was feeling not so teary-eyed and weepy over Dickie a weird thing happened. I started to miss it. I missed feeling sad and mournful. Is this one of the stages of loss? Feeling sad and then feeling bad that you're not feeling sad?

Anyway, yesterday I was at Carls Jr. having a burger when all of a sudden I just started to cry again. I felt so vulnerable. One moment I was picking onions off my burger and the next moment I was crying like a baby.

Suddenly this little kid -- maybe three years old -- kicks a chair over and it lands right on my foot. I must have yelped because his mother started telling him to apologize but the kid just stared at me with this air of superiority and I suddenly burst out laughing!

Okay, I have to start working on my music scores again but thanks for listening. If you see Dickie wand'rin' 'round up there, knock a chair on his foot and tell 'im we miss him. Kewl?

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© 2000 by Steve Schalchlin. Please write me at steve@bonusround.com.
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