This is a slightly less cranky Lori. Hi.
I’ve had a couple of requests to blog the speech I made at Tony’s funeral. So here it is. It is probably not verbatim, because i didn’t write anything down. I just spoke, and spoke the truth.
In all this fucked up mess, this is something I am proud of. I spoke, and spoke well. I did it without a script, and without anyone holding my hand.
For such a tiny chick, I kick arse.
I don’t know what to say up here. I don’t know what i’m doing here. But i spoke at our wedding, and I must speak now.
I was going to tell you all what a great bloke Tony was, what a great father he was, but you all already know that, or you’ll hear it today. What i can tell you is that Tony was such a great husband. He loved me, and our kids, so much. He took care of us. And he was big, and strong, and protected us.
And we loved being married. We loved being husband and wife. A lot of people say it’s just a piece of paper, but it’s not. We were so happy to be together like that. I am so proud that he choose me to be his wife.
Tony took care of everyone. all the time. He was so busy taking care of everyone else, he didn’t speak out when something ws wrong.
And this is what you can do for me, for Tony, when you leave here today. All you men, you big men. When you walk away from here, you speak. If something is wrong, if something hurts, then you talk about. Tony was so busy taking care of everyone else, he didn’t care take of himself. So after this, you speak.
All you men, you think you’re big and tough and strong. You’re not.
And thank you all so much for coming. It makes me smile, to see how many people loved my Tony as much as I did.
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After reading your latest Christmas post, I went back to read some more. Finding out how Tony died, and the things that led up to it, has hit home.
I haven't really touched on this in my blog, as I'm not sure who knows I have it, and who reads it. Reading through some of your posts, I could have been reading about my life for the last 4 months. The unexplained anger, the hatred. A total stranger in my home. The last fight, after all the vile things he said to me, I wouldn't let him back in. That is, until he went to talk to someone.
We've been seeing a counselor for three weeks now. No sessions together, yet, as the head doctor says Husband is not receptive to it at this time. He has so much stress and anger built up, and he's refused help for so long, that it's going to take awhile to get past it. Last session, the doc told me to hide all weapons in the home. Reading this, I now see why. But, I also see that it doesn't always take a weapon.
I want him to read what you've wrote. I want him to realize that it's ok to be getting the help he is getting, we are getting. I don't think he's open to it, yet, though.
I, however, will take a lot of what I've read to heart. I will try and be more understanding, so that your posts don't turn in to my posts in a month or a year.
I'm crying again, as I know that where you were at the time you wrote this, could easily be myself in the near future.
I will reinforce your plea – men, no matter how tough you are, it's ok to ask for help.
Your works took my breath away.
Tricia Bertram
I found you through a series of other blogs, looking for information about depression. I lost my Dad 8 years ago and I've been dealing with depression for at least that long. I'm commenting because you told me to. To speak. I wish I could make it all better for you, for your kids, for me, for my Dad's wife. Anyway, thank you for sharing yourself. You inspire me.
Trawling through your posts, you make me cry, and although I don't physically know you, my heart hurts for you. You're SO BRAVE. xx
Lori, I've put off reading this. There has been so much in my own life I've been hiding from, I just couldn't.
Now I have, and it gives me chills. I'm sending it to my own big strong man, because he's facing challenges, some of which I've faced and buckled under, and some that are far and beyond what challenged me.
Love you.
You've made me think. Thank you. I'm sorry you had to have the occasion to make this speech. My condolences…
my heart aches for you and the little ones. I am very pissed that this is what life has dealt you. to say it beyond fucking sucks doesn't begin to cover it. I have read you for a while, and I am trying to keep reading even though it makes me very anxious, I figure I can suck that up. I am praying for your strength and peace each day. (hugs)
Your words have deeply affected me. I wish you peace.
Lori,
Jenny sent me your way. Not directly but she blogged about you. I am so sorry for your loss and I love your post here. My husband suffers from depression and I am walking on egg shells every day of my life. Thankfully I can see when things are getting bad and can get him the help he needs. The trick is keeping him on his meds but the meds work well and for that I am thankful.
Thank you for sharing your story. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. Thank you for showing me that I am not alone. Hopefully I will never have to be where you are, so long as my husband continues to speak.
We lose the good ones. Evil lives on, while the very people who, by their presence in this old world, are a deterrent to evil, to entropy, to chaos, succumb to despair.
Sometimes even the biggest and strongest of men just can't lift the heavy loads or break the rusted bolts of angst. Thank you for speaking out, and best hopes that we can get them talking and get them help.
You do kick arse hun. These words are perfect. Thank you for bringing out into the daylight these secrets that our staunch Southern men hold so tight to themselves. We must all speak about depression, something that has plagued me for over twenty years. Our Antipodean men are so compelled to be strong, I just wish it was more publically acknowledged that depression and mental illness does not make you a weak person. Thank you for sharing your epitaph for your wonderful man. These words truly honour him and your marriage. Much love xxx
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