RIP David L. Fielding
May 30, 1967 – December 18, 2005

I had a moment of silence at 1:15 this morning, remembering how silent the room was at Mercy Hospice in Scranton, Pennsylvania, where my husband took his final breaths. There were four of us with David when he passed — a nurse, two friends, and me. The way I remember it was more like an out-of-body experience, viewing the scene from above rather than by David’s bedside. I don’t know how long we stood there silently after his body shut down. It could have been a minute, it could have been five, time seemed to stand very still.

In exactly half a year I will turn 38 years old, and I will be the age that David was when he left this world. While most healthy people take for granted that they’ll live to a ripe old age, I’ve held the notion as an adult (long before I met David) that I would probably die young, which is why I celebrate my birthday as resolutely as I do. I have an early history of recklessness and taking risks, but after losing David I certainly don’t take anything for granted now. He was a perfectly healthy man who was taken in his prime. It could as easily have been me in the cancer ward and David the one left behind. I’ve often asked the universe, why am I still around?

In the last four years I’ve searched for meaning and purpose because I concluded that I must be around for a reason, and it’s up to me to figure out what that is. David knew very clearly what he wanted out of life, and being married to him changed me. It is the reason why I could no longer return to being called Edwin even after he died, I am a different person now. I took the name Edwin-Fielding because it fit me better.

David didn’t like to be called a pilot, he always wanted to be known as an aviator. A pilot is someone who can fly a plane, but an aviator encompasses so much more. I could understand why David preferred aviator, he was a walking encyclopedia of aviation history. He could identify old airplanes overhead and tell you stories about them. He was passionate about the golden age of flight, especially postal service aircraft that had no air traffic control, accurate maps, GPS, or weather forecasting. They had mail, they had destinations, they were on a mission, come-what-may. David had an abiding respect for the pioneers of aviation who chose this risky life.

If you look up aviator in Wikipedia, it says this:

The term aviator (as opposed to “pilot” or other terms) was used more in the early days of aviation, before anyone had ever seen an airplane fly, and it had connotations of bravery and adventure.

David’s ashes were scattered from an old airplane over an aerodome on his birthday in 2006 because I know the ground is no place for aviators. They belong in the sky.

We miss you, AviatorDave. Clear skies.

Music for today: David’s favourite musician, Elton John, performing “Rocket Man” on his 60th birthday at Madison Square Garden in 2007. When David was 15, he saw Elton John perform at Madison Square Garden as a guest of his uncle, David “Sonny” Werblin, who owned the New York Jets back then. (This is an interesting story and will be a future post.)

(Taken with permission from the rabbi.)

I went to Temple Israel on May 30 for David’s birthday and to observe yizkor. Yizkor is only four times a year, so this is a very rare event to have both his birthday and yizkor on the same day. It also happened to be Shavuot. David’s mother, Mona, said the prayers at home, and I attended the full service on behalf of his family, which now consists of only his mother and me. (His Aunt Pearl passed away August 2008.)

I’ll add more about May 30 later, I have lots to say!

It’s not actually the light of day, it’s a home light bulb. I mean, this photo is now seeing the light of day since I never uploaded it after taking it with my little point-and-shoot digicam in 2005. I’m archive-diving at the moment for another task, but it’s taken me three years to dig in the 2005 photos again. The last time I rummaged around in this collection I was too emotional to spend much time here, but I’m OK with it now. I will stop short of saying time heals, but what it does do for me is upgrade my mental batch processing system to allow for other thoughts besides mourning.

A couple of other photos I found that I never uploaded, from a trip to Philly in 2005. I haven’t edited these, they’re straight out of the Canon A80.

We learned about World War I in school, but it wasn’t until many years later in an English literature class at Simon Fraser University in 2001 that I learned the horrific details of the Great War and the reasons why it holds such an important place in history. Of course, as schoolchildren we’re spared the gruesome parts, and even 10 years after its release I can’t bring myself to watch the opening scenes of Saving Private Ryan, but this was English class and it was required reading. One of the books on the list (the title of which escapes me right now) took place during World War I, and our discussions of the book were centred on the aspects of war and why the First World War was called the Great War.

A few things I took away from those discussions: trench warfare, the lack of technology, 20 million military deaths in four years. The sheer number of people who lost their lives is overwhelming — an average of more than 13,000 people each DAY, and that doesn’t include the civilian casualties. It would be the equivalent of burying the entire nation of Sri Lanka. It is no wonder that Armistice Day (“Remembrance Day” in Canada) is observed in many countries around the world. 90 years is literally a lifetime ago, but we mustn’t forget the consequences of escalated conflict and do everything to prevent it from happening again.

This medal was part of David’s belongings, but I don’t know where he got it from. On the inside of the battered jewellery case is a date, but I can only make out the year (1918), and the name of the jeweller in Jersey City, NJ. There are a few war-related items, such as photographs taken in the South Pacific during WWII (an estate sale of a war veteran–that part I do know), but this medal might’ve been acquired apart from the other items. The USA didn’t enter World War I until April 16, 1917, which explains why November 11 — a date commemorated in Canada and other Commonwealth countries with the wearing of poppies and the recitation of the poem written by a Canadian soldier, “In Flanders Fields” — is not a big deal south of the border. When I lived in Pennsylvania, it was a bit strange not to see poppies on lapels in November. I really felt like something was amiss.

Here’s the full recording of the 1917 war song "Over There" in WAV format written by George M. Cohan and performed by Billy Murray, via the U.S. Library of Congress website.

I think this was David’s kindergarten or Grade 1 photo, taken sometime in the early ’70s.

Apart from the obvious reasons, I really really wish David were alive to see today. He was a patriotic American who was frustrated with the policies of the Bush Administration. I accompanied David during the last federal election when he went to the polls on November 2, 2004. Of course, I couldn’t legally vote, but I was interested in seeing how it’s done in the States.

David was deeply disappointed with the outcome of the 2004 election, and wanted to move with me to Vancouver when Bush was elected for a second term. But David’s mother refused to leave Pennsylvania, so we decided we would live in PA as long as his mother was alive and move to Vancouver later. That later never happened.

David’s maternal grandmother, who died of cancer when he was 16*, was a political campaigner for the Democratic Party and was a major influence on David when he was growing up. (It’s his grandmother’s diamonds in our wedding rings.) He often told me stories about how his Orthodox Jewish grandmother bucked tradition by sitting with the men in temple to talk politics instead of sitting with the women, and how they couldn’t walk 20 paces in town because Rachel Schneider knew everyone and would stop and greet one and all. It was because of her that David was a proud Democrat.

In late 2005, David was impressed by Senator Obama from Illinois, and was of the opinion that Obama had the intellect and ability to lead the Democratic Party.

David, how I wish you were alive today to see how much American life has already changed in the nearly three years since you left us and how far Obama has come…

* I couldn’t help but feel sadness when I heard that Obama’s grandmother, Madelyn Dunham, who helped raise him, died of cancer over the weekend — only a few days before this historic occasion. (His mother, Ann Dunham, also died of cancer, in 1995.) Madelyn Dunham voted early, and it was made official in the state of Hawaii that her vote for her grandson counted.

May 31, 2008
Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania

Here’s to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness…”

I suppose the best way to describe my relationship with the United States, after all that I’d experienced while living there — immigration issues, marriage, the healthcare system, two elections, federal aviation policies, banking policies, the real estate market, funeral homes, insurance claims, estate matters, Social Security, exporting an automobile, and myriad other processes — is… COMPLICATED. If there is a Canadian who understands what is involved in expat life in America, at both ends of the wellness spectrum, it is me.

Yes, it’s a complicated relationship, one that is touched on from time to time even though I don’t live there anymore, because I keep going back, and there remains a bit of my American life in America. In my mind I must separate the actions of the government from the actions of the people, because it is necessary for a healthy attitude and I believe this should extend to other countries, too. Although we wish it were not so, there is often no humanity in policy. It is not an ideal world we live in, but that should not stop us from having ideals and fighting for them.

With all the media coverage on the upcoming U.S. election, I wonder what David would have to say about it. He was a very patriotic American who completely disagreed with many decisions made by the Bush administration in the last two terms of his life. I know he’d be excited and encouraged by the inroads made by the Democratic Party — he was a registered Democrat and his maternal grandmother was a campaigner for the Democratic party at a local level. (Her diamonds are in our wedding rings.) In fact, I’ve kept a tin container of campaign buttons and various items that David stashed away over the years. Now that my scanner works again, I’ll see if I can scan some in October, in the run-up to the election on November 4.

In the meantime, I leave you with some Americana for the 4th of July.

First, a glimpse into David’s Americana group on Flickr.

Second, photos from my trip to New York, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey (May 29-June 2), to celebrate the birthday of my favourite American.

View as: [thumbnails] [slideshow] or click through the Pictobrowser below

David used to poke fun at this music box: "My mother put me to sleep with a war song!"

Awwww.

David would have turned 41 years old today, so to celebrate, I went flying! Flying photos forthcoming.

I was digging through David’s stuff to find something to wear to a theme party tonight, and I came across his fraternity gear from Penn State.

David shoved this in the back of the closet because he didn’t want to get any sticky questions from his Civil Air Patrol cadets.

It wasn’t for prescribing Nyquil, put it that way.

I also came across Han Solo and a t-shirt from his childhood.

David was a total packrat. There was Star Wars memorabilia in the garage and the house, but I couldn’t haul it all to Toronto, so I kept only a few choice items. I think David was 10 years old when Star Wars mania hit.

From sometime in the early 90s, the ‘stache and beard phase. It’s a picture David had framed in our house, that I now look at every day in my house.

I’ve been thinking of how long it’s been since I’ve been in a (non-commercial) airplane. Looking back, it was only October 14 (Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome), but it feels like ages.

I think I need to go up in a little plane again, to hear the roar of the engine and see the world from a couple of thousand feet in the air. It’s like therapy for me.

I use my passport quite often (especially at the U.S. border), and came across this page recently when I was at the Passport Office to renew it.

October 1, 2004, is when I first met David face-to-face. We were in some online forums together and until that point our communication was online and on the phone. I mentioned in September that I was interested in flying with him — I never knew anyone who owned his own airplane — and suggested that we should meet.

David picked me up at JFK, quite nervously. I told him later that my first impression of him was that he was "a little gruff". It’s about 2.5 hours from JFK to Scranton, Pennsylvania, so my goal for the whole car ride was to make him feel more at ease. By the look of things when we left JFK, I had my work cut out for me.

We got engaged shortly after, so I would venture to say that first weekend was a resounding success.

When David was diagnosed in August 2005 with small cell lung cancer less than eight weeks before our wedding date, I asked him if he wanted to postpone the wedding until after the chemotherapy and radiation got the cancer into remission. He gave me an adamant no and said we were sticking to the date no matter what. So we did, in spite of everything, get married on October 1, 2005.

David had a violent reaction to the chemotherapy he received two days before our wedding and needed to go to the Emergency Room, but he refused to go until we were officially married. We had a brief ceremony with our downsized wedding party, David in a wheelchair and me sitting beside him. He could barely speak and was trembling with pain, but he made it through the vows and was taken directly to the ER. He lay on a hospital gurney from the afternoon until 7 o’clock in the morning, when they finally found him a bed.

That time David was in the hospital for 10 days, and he joked with the nurses that it was our honeymoon suite and that they should stay out. It was true, though — we had to cancel our honeymoon and for the rest of the time we were either in hospitals, cancer clinics, or at home.

October 1 is a significant day for me, for many reasons. It’s my anniversary, but it represents a plethora of emotions ranging from jubilant to profoundly sad. One of David’s favourite musicians, Billy Joel, has a song called "Only the Good Die Young" and after yesterday’s news, I’m starting to think that it’s true.

Related posts:

October 1, 2006 – Today Would’ve Been Our One-Year Wedding Anniversary
October 3, 2005 – Wedding Weekend