When they step inside, and embrace me—it’s as if I have stepped into a violent surf.
Though our friends remain with me until 4 A.M. most of what we said to one another has vanished from my memory. Our friends will tell me that I behaved calmly and yet it was clear that I was in a state of shock. I can remember Jeanne on the phone, in the kitchen, making calls to funeral homes. I can remember my astonishment that a funeral home might be open at such an hour of the night. I can remember explaining to my friends how Ray died—why Ray died—the secondary infection , the fact that his blood pressure plummeted , his heartbeat accelerated —these gruesome words which I have memorized and which even now, at any hour of the day, along with my final vision of Ray in the hospital bed, run through my mind like flashes of heat lightning.
My friends are extraordinary, I think. To come to me so quickly in the middle of the night as they’ve done.
For the widow inhabits a tale not of her own telling. The widow inhabits a nightmare-tale and yet it is likely that the widow inhabits a benign fairy tale out of the Brothers Grimm in which friends come forward to help. We loved Ray , and we love you.
Let us help you. Ray would want this.
Chapter 18
E-mail Record
February 18, 2008, 9:26 A.M.
To Elaine Pagels
I was about to write to you to say that quite suddenly Ray passed away last night at about 1 A.M.
I am too exhausted now to speak but Jeannie is coming to go with me to a Pennington funeral home to make arrangements.
I have been thinking of you as a young—very young—widow and mother. I have seen in you the transcendence of this unspeakable wound and yet the shadow of it, which can never be forgotten.
Much love,
Joyce
February 18, 2008.
To Mary Morris
Ray died at 1 A.M. this morning in the medical center of a terrible pneumonia. I am utterly dazed and will get back to you [regarding an interview for the Italian Storie] some other time.
Much love,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Richard Ford
Thanks, Richard. Much of my trouble—“trouble”?—is physical/ emotional—I just feel exhausted, groggy around people and want to crawl away somewhere and sleep.
But I know that you are right. I am trying.
Love,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Sandra Gilbert
I was thinking of you, and your wonderful lost husband . . . It was something similar—though not a “wrongful death” I’m sure—Ray had been hospitalized for pneumonia—an e-coli infection which is one of the worst—and was definitely “improving” day by day—due to be released to rehab soon—then suddenly, I had a call at 12:30 A.M. to come quickly to the hospital—where he had just been pronounced dead. A secondary infection had caused cardiopulmonary arrest, and he was gone.
It is just utterly unbelievable. I feel so completely alone.
Though surrounded by the most wonderful friends.
Thank you for writing. Much love,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Gary Mailman
I have here the document “Last Will & Testament” of Raymond Smith . . . What does one do with the will, as a document? Do I present it somewhere? I’ve been told that I have to take “death certificates” to something called a surrogate court (?) in Trenton soon. Jeanne Halpern has offered to accompany me which is astonishingly wonderful of her.
How grateful we are that you came through your hospital siege. . . . I truly did think that Ray was, too. Even after death he looked not ill at all, quite handsome, his face unlined and peaceful. In the hospital room, all the staff had left, and he was alone in the bed without the IV fluids and the oxygen mask, and the beautiful vase of flowers that you and Emily had sent was on a table just beside him. It is the most haunting memory I will ever have.
Any [legal] advice you can give will be so much appreciated,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Gloria Vanderbilt
[Ray] passed away at 1 A.M. of February 18—just yesterday!
It is so hard to comprehend.
I will write to you
Though our friends remain with me until 4 A.M. most of what we said to one another has vanished from my memory. Our friends will tell me that I behaved calmly and yet it was clear that I was in a state of shock. I can remember Jeanne on the phone, in the kitchen, making calls to funeral homes. I can remember my astonishment that a funeral home might be open at such an hour of the night. I can remember explaining to my friends how Ray died—why Ray died—the secondary infection , the fact that his blood pressure plummeted , his heartbeat accelerated —these gruesome words which I have memorized and which even now, at any hour of the day, along with my final vision of Ray in the hospital bed, run through my mind like flashes of heat lightning.
My friends are extraordinary, I think. To come to me so quickly in the middle of the night as they’ve done.
For the widow inhabits a tale not of her own telling. The widow inhabits a nightmare-tale and yet it is likely that the widow inhabits a benign fairy tale out of the Brothers Grimm in which friends come forward to help. We loved Ray , and we love you.
Let us help you. Ray would want this.
Chapter 18
E-mail Record
February 18, 2008, 9:26 A.M.
To Elaine Pagels
I was about to write to you to say that quite suddenly Ray passed away last night at about 1 A.M.
I am too exhausted now to speak but Jeannie is coming to go with me to a Pennington funeral home to make arrangements.
I have been thinking of you as a young—very young—widow and mother. I have seen in you the transcendence of this unspeakable wound and yet the shadow of it, which can never be forgotten.
Much love,
Joyce
February 18, 2008.
To Mary Morris
Ray died at 1 A.M. this morning in the medical center of a terrible pneumonia. I am utterly dazed and will get back to you [regarding an interview for the Italian Storie] some other time.
Much love,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Richard Ford
Thanks, Richard. Much of my trouble—“trouble”?—is physical/ emotional—I just feel exhausted, groggy around people and want to crawl away somewhere and sleep.
But I know that you are right. I am trying.
Love,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Sandra Gilbert
I was thinking of you, and your wonderful lost husband . . . It was something similar—though not a “wrongful death” I’m sure—Ray had been hospitalized for pneumonia—an e-coli infection which is one of the worst—and was definitely “improving” day by day—due to be released to rehab soon—then suddenly, I had a call at 12:30 A.M. to come quickly to the hospital—where he had just been pronounced dead. A secondary infection had caused cardiopulmonary arrest, and he was gone.
It is just utterly unbelievable. I feel so completely alone.
Though surrounded by the most wonderful friends.
Thank you for writing. Much love,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Gary Mailman
I have here the document “Last Will & Testament” of Raymond Smith . . . What does one do with the will, as a document? Do I present it somewhere? I’ve been told that I have to take “death certificates” to something called a surrogate court (?) in Trenton soon. Jeanne Halpern has offered to accompany me which is astonishingly wonderful of her.
How grateful we are that you came through your hospital siege. . . . I truly did think that Ray was, too. Even after death he looked not ill at all, quite handsome, his face unlined and peaceful. In the hospital room, all the staff had left, and he was alone in the bed without the IV fluids and the oxygen mask, and the beautiful vase of flowers that you and Emily had sent was on a table just beside him. It is the most haunting memory I will ever have.
Any [legal] advice you can give will be so much appreciated,
Joyce
February 19, 2008.
To Gloria Vanderbilt
[Ray] passed away at 1 A.M. of February 18—just yesterday!
It is so hard to comprehend.
I will write to you
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