Chapter 4
November 30, 2007…………My Opening Act, Alone
After tossing and turning and crying for hours I realized I was wasting time and stressing myself out by trying to sleep. It seemed like a good time to get up and clean out the closet of the belongings he had just put in there so happily yesterday. We had just gotten back together and we were going to live happily ever after.
This movie’s plot had changed abruptly. What was the director thinking?
I went through all his pockets, whimpering and thinking I might find some explanation. Why had he died? He looked good and said he’d felt great. I found nothing.
I kept his favorite tee shirts because I always wore them when we were apart and I missed him. I realized I would be missing him a lot and put the rest of his clothes in a bag and lied down in the back of the house in the spare bedroom’s bed again.
At about 6:30am I called my parents. They were early risers and they would probably still be in bed but they would be awake by now. I could hear myself telling my mother I was sorry to call so early and she asked what was wrong. There is always something wrong when someone calls so early. I listened to my voice say my husband had a heart attack and died a few hours before.
She gasped and explained to my father what had happened and asked if someone was there with me. I told her my friend, Dr. Susan, was here and she would be until someone else could come and stay with me. My mother explained she couldn’t come to Florida because of her recent knee surgery but she would call my sister and maybe she could get away and be by my side.
I told her that wouldn’t be necessary; I would call Joshua, my oldest son in Orlando, in a little while and see when he could come up. She said she would call her anyway.
I called my youngest son, Jason, a grad student at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York. He was shocked and upset and wanted to come down and I told him to stay where he was. His studies were so important.
I would be ok. I was a survivor.
I called Joshua’s phone, knowing he wouldn’t be up for hours, and left a message for him to call me as soon as he awoke.
I kept thinking, this isn’t really happening, is it?
It can’t possibly be happening. My God, he’s only 51.
He’d been looking better than he had in years. He’d lost a few pounds, said he was feeling great and had thanked me for inspiring him to do so. He’d been riding his bike, drinking less alcohol, and eating better. What had happened? Why did he die? Would my questions ever be answered?
My sister called and insisted on coming down and I realized it would be good to have her here. She said she was so sorry this had happened to me and she would call me back to let me know when she could get a flight.
I could hear Dr. Susan in the living room calling her patients who were scheduled for the day and explaining she had to cancel their appointments. She had to be with a friend whose husband had died of a heart attack in the middle of the night.
I called Karen, my best friend in the Keys, about 7:30am, knowing she would be up soon if she wasn’t already. She didn’t answer her phone, so I called another friend, Rainey, who lived upstairs, apologizing immediately for calling so early in the morning. She asked, “What’s wrong?”
When I told her Red had died, she screamed in disbelief, “NO, Diane, that can’t be. Oh, my God, are you ok?”
I answered yes, but no, and told her Dr. Susan was with me and I could hear Karen in the background asking what was wrong. She’d heard the phone ring upstairs after she hadn’t answered hers and knew something was up. Rainey filled her in and they both began crying. I told them I had a phone call coming in I had to take. I just wanted them to know what had happened.
It was Joshua calling to tell me he’d talked to Jason and he was so sorry he couldn’t rush right up. He had to work that evening but would drive up tomorrow. I told him that was fine and I would let him know when my sister’s flight was arriving in Orlando so he could bring her with him.
I called my cell phone company and had Red’s calls forwarded to my phone because I couldn’t find his. The phone calls began pouring in. The coconut telegraph, as we call our networking in the Florida Keys, was working faster than ever. No one could believe it and wanted to talk to Red, to me, to hear he was still alive.
I wished I could have told them he hadn’t died, that it was a rumor like a couple of years ago when someone named Diane had been killed in a bicycle accident and everyone knew I rode a bike all the time. They all called me to see if I was ok. I was happy to tell them I was fine, it was someone else named Diane in that tragic accident.
This time I couldn’t tell them it was someone else. Our Red was gone.
The card for our life insurance agent was on the kitchen counter. I had told Red just yesterday he needed to talk to him about some money market accounts and safer investments. The stocks he’d had invested our money in were losing value daily. Those stocks were probably one of the reasons my husband was so stressed all the time. Watching our savings diminish had to be disheartening.
I called the insurance agent and told him Red had died. He pulled the file while we were talking and said the claim would be contested as the policy was less than two years old. It was standard procedure to investigate circumstances around a death on a policy less two years old.
Great, not only was my husband dead but now I had to worry whether or not I was going to get any financial help. According to the agent it would take a minimum of four months and up to a year before I would even know whether or not there would be any money awarded me.
Well, I had a little money I could get to so I would be okay, for awhile.
Dr. Susan offered to stay with me throughout the day Friday and again Friday night. My sister and my son were going to arrive sometime on Saturday. Yes, that would be a good idea.
Breathe deeply, Diane. With a little help from your friends you are going to be just fine.
Before we left my house to go to Dr. Susan’s home to check on her elderly mother and get some of her belongings she suggested I might want to get online and move money from accounts with both of our names on them to an account with only my name on it.
I’d heard about people having trouble getting money from accounts they’d shared with spouses who died and realized I should listen to her advice. I sat at my laptop, fighting my way through the system and my tears and began moving money. Fortunately, I’d gotten passwords for the stock market and mutual fund accounts 18 days ago when Red and I had gotten back together. The Universe had been watching out for me.
Once I had done all I could do we drove into The Center where Dr. Susan and I worked to get some more herbs for my well-being and to check her calendar to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anyone who needed to see her today. She also got numbers so she could rebook her patients for the following day. I assured her I could spend a few hours alone on Saturday waiting for my sister and son. I had plenty to do.
I received a call from the man who owned the funeral parlor. He wanted me to know my husband was on the way back to Cross City. He told me his secretary would be calling to find out when I would be able to meet with him. I asked him if they would be able to do the service Sunday afternoon. Yes, he thought they had an opening but his secretary would confirm that when she called to make my appointment.
Everything was falling into place perfectly. Thank God he had died when he did. If it had been 24 hours earlier we would not have enjoyed the most beautiful day of our lives together. If it had been 24 hours later we would have been in Key Largo in our motor home and my life would have been much more difficult. His parents were close and his sister and much of his family would be able to fly into Orlando easily. Well, I guess I had a lot of things to be thankful for, “Count your blessings, Diane and breathe.” I realized I would have to do a service at our mountain home in Georgia next week. I wanted to start spreading his ashes on the mountain as that was his favorite place on earth. Besides, I needed to get as much out of that house as possible. Things to sell and things I wanted because I was afraid foreclosure would happen quickly when I stopped paying the mortgage.
I had to call the men he played music with, Ted Hyde in Key Largo and Bruce Isaacson in Key West. I left both of them messages to call me as soon as they could. After a few hours I still had not heard from Ted and realizing Red was supposed to play with him in about 7 hours I called the bar to let them know Red wouldn’t be there. He had died of a heart attack the night before. The person I spoke to thanked me for calling and gave me their condolences.
Dr. Susan and I spent the day together, she taking care of her business and watching over me while I was talking on the phone.
I still couldn’t find Red’s phone anywhere. I began thinking he might have figured out how to take it with him. He rarely spent a moment on this earth when he wasn’t on it.
I called our neighbors in northern Georgia, told them the sad news and asked them to call his other friends up there. They said they couldn’t make it down to the service I was having for his family on Sunday and I told them that was fine. I would come up there next week and would let them know what day and asked if they would help me put together a wake for him there. They said they would be glad to help. I should just call to let them know what day I would be coming north as soon as I knew.
I called some very good friends on Summerland Key. They had just heard it on the radio. The entire Florida Keys was grieving the loss of my husband with a minute of silence and an hour-long radio show dedicated to Fiddlin Red’s music.
Later in the day I was telling someone I must have received a hundred phone calls. Dr. Susan politely corrected me and said it had to have been more like four hundred as I hadn’t stopped talking all day and much of the time I had more than one call at a time.
We went to the funeral parlor and sat with the man who owned the business, which apparently was quite lucrative. With our service they were booked solid for the weekend.
I had to choose the service I wanted for my husband less than twelve hours after I had tried to resuscitate him. I chose the simplest. Red would have wanted it that way. I decided not to get an urn. I couldn’t imagine having him sitting on the mantle. I asked what he would come in if I didn’t purchase the urn. His ashes would come in a plastic bag which would be inside a plastic box inside a cardboard box. I would be given transport papers explaining what it was and would need to carry the papers with me if I were going on an airplane. I guess it would be a good idea to be able to prove to any potential law officers what the plastic bag of white powder I was carrying was.
I found out I would need to pay for several copies of the death certificate, $11 for each copy. One for each of the credit card companies, bank accounts, counties we held property in, etc, and, oh, one for social security. There was a spousal death benefit I could claim. I thought, “That’s nice. The government helps out widows.”
I asked the man if he knew how much it would be.
“Two hundred and fifty-five dollars,” was his answer.
I looked at Dr. Susan and said I felt as though I had been slapped in the face. She agreed and I figured, “Well, every penny will help at this point. Be grateful, Diane, not angry at the system.”
The man showed me the booklets they made up for their clients families and told me the price. I told him no, thank you, realizing I could make a much more attractive booklet at home on my own printer for my deceased partner.
Here I was spending $2000 I didn’t have 12 hours after he was gone and getting ready to make the program for his funeral. How surreal it all was going through these motions. Fortunately, they took credit cards.
We had to go back through Fanning Springs and past my bank. I asked Dr. Susan to stop so I could deposit a check from the corporate account into my personal account. I wasn’t doing anything illegal I just wanted to follow the advice I had been given. Not only had Dr. Susan warned me about potential problems with money but a girlfriend of mine in the Keys had called this morning and told me firmly, “Take care of business. Take care of yourself. Move the money, NOW.”
We stopped at the bank and not only did I deposit a check from our corporate account but I also had one of those credit card checks Red had signed last night while we were packing to go to the Keys. We were going to use it to pay off a couple of the credit cards we had let get away from us and there was a little extra for the trip we were planning in January. Well, we wouldn’t be going to the islands for the New Year but I would be grateful for the extra money to get me through till I figured out what would happen next.
I also cashed a check, opened up a safety deposit box and put my first fistful of money in it. I wasn’t taking any chances. Too many people were telling me how, even with joint accounts, there could be problems. Quite honestly the shock of losing my husband was enough to deal with without the thought of not being able access my hard earned money. Survival was the only thing on my mind. Besides, it was better than thinking about what had happened in the past 17 hours.
On the way through Trenton I asked Dr. Susan to please stop at Petrello’s restaurant. I knew Red’s family would want to get together after the service on Sunday and I didn’t want to be responsible for entertaining them at home. I ran into the restaurant’s kitchen, not only to tell Paulie the sad and disturbing news, but, to find out if they were open on Sunday.
He was in the kitchen and said his usual, “Hey kiddo,” and he knew when he looked up from his food prep and saw my face something was dreadfully wrong.
I told him Red had had a heart attack and was dead. He ran over and hugged me and kept saying the same thing everyone else said, “No, that can’t be. No,” and then he added, “What can I do?”
I asked if he was open on Sunday and he said, “No, why?” I explained I needed to feed the family flying in from New York after the service and couldn’t see them eating at a BBQ joint in Cross City. He asked me, “What time do you want me to open?” I told him the service was at 3pm and we should be done and back in Trenton by 5pm. He asked how many people I thought would be coming. I told him about a dozen and then he said he would take care of everything.
Thank God Red’s family wouldn’t have to eat in Cross City and thank God for Paulie. He was glad to help me out and he loved Red in the short time he had known him; just like everyone else who knew my husband. He was so lovable.
I went out to Dr. Susan’s truck and told her the restaurant would open on Sunday, just for us, and she was as relieved as I was.
We went to her house and I lied down on her couch while she gathered a few things to spend another night with me. I spoke to her mom briefly but she was watching TV and I didn’t really feel like talking anyway. I hadn’t slept for over 36 hours and I was exhausted but suspected it might be awhile before I would be able to sleep.
As I lie on her couch I distinctly felt the air move and a kiss on the back of my neck. Red knew ‘my spot’ and there was no doubt in my mind he had kissed me there to tell me he was ok.
Dr. Susan and I eventually went back to my house and we flipped my mattress over and I made my bed. Now she lay on my couch, while I tossed and turned for hours, sobbing uncontrollably every once in awhile as quietly as I could.
When she heard me she would call out and ask me if I wanted her to come and comfort me. I told her no. I told her I was ok. How could anyone be ok after what had just happened but I realized there was nothing she could do to help me.
I couldn’t sleep so I got up and continued cleaning out Red’s belongings, crying, looking at his things in disbelief. I got out my calendar and began writing down all the things I would have to do in the coming days and making a plan. When the going gets tough, the tough get going and I was feeling as tough as nails. I knew I was hiding my grief by being strong, if that makes any sense. It was all I could do.
After another sleepless night I heard her alarm go off Saturday morning at 7:30am. I began panicking slightly at the thought of being alone. I told myself I was a big girl. I would be fine.
She left to go to The Center and I went to work cleaning and tidying up my house. There would be a lot of people visiting over the next few days. I was glad my sister was finally going to see the house I had bought on my own credit and put in my name only. I just wished she were coming for a different reason.
Then I realized it was probably a good thing I had put the house in my name only. No one could take this one from me as long as I could pay for it.
I realized the Georgia house was in Red’s name only. We had discussed this often. In fact we were going to take care of it the next time we were in northern Georgia, just to keep me happy. He always said we didn’t have to put my name on it, I was his wife. If he died it would go to me anyway. I guess now I would find out whether he was right or whether he was wrong.
Thoughts came into my mind as fast as they possibly could. I would write down as many things as possible and breathe deeply. I was doing more deep breathing and more yoga than my normal hour every morning. I attribute my deep spirituality and my daily devotions to helping me function as well as I was functioning, which I thought, was amazingly well.
Oh dear, I had to let his fans know.
So many people loved my husband. He touched the lives of so many with his smile and his talent.
I posted the tragedy in the blog on the www.BruceandRed.com website and the words of disbelief and grief began pouring onto the page from around the world. Bruce and Red were due to begin December 5th at the Hogs Breath in Destin and December 13th at the Hogs Breath in Key West. Bruce was going to have to go on without his partner.
When Bruce and I finally spoke, we cried and tried to make arrangements for a service at the Hog’s Breath in Key West so all the fans could take part in the grieving.
It’s important to help others through a tragic time and even though I knew it was going to be difficult for me I was not the only one who was hurting. People around the world were crying for my fiddle player.
I spoke to my neighbors at the mountain about doing the service in northern Georgia on Thursday, December 6th. They said they would be prepared and I could stay there if I wanted to. I thanked them but realized I would be staying with my friend, Patty, in Atlanta.
She had lost her husband only a couple of years ago to a brain tumor. I knew her home was the best place in the world for me to be. I would find great comfort spending time with her.
My phone rang and it was Annie asking me to tell her it wasn’t true. I told her I wished I could say it was a vicious rumor, but, yes, Red was gone. She asked what could she do to help and I realized I needed to do a service for his fans in Key Largo. This was going to be grueling. Was I up for it? I had to be.
I got out my calendar and told Annie she could help me put a service together on Thursday, December 13th. She said there would probably be a conflict with the Caribbean Club’s Christmas Party and when she called back she expressed a few peoples’ disappointment. I decided I wasn’t following anyone’s schedule now but my own.
The dates for the services were falling into place. A plan was coming together.
I called Dr. Susan to ask her if she wanted to go with me to the Keys and was relieved when she agreed to go. She wished she had made the trip while Red was alive but she knew I needed her now and made plans to drive down and back. I would pay for her gas and her expenses. She would finally be forced to take a break from her acupuncture practice. She wished it were for a different reason and so did I.
NEXT CHAPTER
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