Eileen Cadman (Oct. 16, 1950 – March 17, 2013)

Published by Rick on Tagged Uncategorized

Proof that online dating DOES work. Eileen and I both asserted many times that there’s no way the two of us could have met otherwise. The circles we travelled in, the people we knew, the interests we had, all a study in contrasts. Ultimately, how we met doesn’t matter as much as the fact that we DID meet, fall in love and have an incredible bond that was sadly broken just over 24 hours ago.

Eileen Joan Cadman was a native Londoner who had never lived anywhere else and had spent the last 30+ years living on the same street. I have lived in 16 different cities (not to mention two countries!) in my lifetime, and at least double that number of residences. On the sameness front, we both found that in our respective teen years we had determined to avoid normalcy at all costs. For her that meant shunning traditional things like marriage and family. Since I had married and divorced three times by the time we met, we agreed I’d done it enough for the both of us. Her commitment to non-conformity was stronger than mine, since I at least flirted with the mainstream, unavoidable if you choose to be in show business. She became a freelance editor to avoid having a day job, which was true of my career choice as well. Classical music was her preference, knowing or caring little about much pop music past the 1960’s, in contrast to me with my 30,000 vinyl singles.

In spite of whatever cultural differences we might have had, the synergy between us was very strong, and we found so much about each other’s personalities that delighted. We found a lot of the same things funny, we liked and understood Cryptic Crossword puzzles, and she had no qualms about cursing like a sailor if the mood hit. What also consistently won me over was her wide-mouthed smile. Looking through old photos of her a week or so ago, I found the smile even broader and more pronounced, but always with that same glow.

This was a genuine, real, loving person who found her way around life by keeping herself as free of stress as possible. Some of that she had to learn the hard way! She suffered through periods of anxiety, depression, and anorexia, the suicide of her dad in the family home when she was 20, not to mention committing her own self to a sanitorium in her late 40’s, to become one of the most together people I’ve ever met. Even cancer didn’t break her!

When she was diagnosed with colon cancer in late April last year, and as it became more serious and her life expectancy more finite, her way of dealing with it was to sort out all unfinished business, with one of the main focuses being the completion of the novel she had begun writing over 20 years ago. She managed to get the finished version completed last November. In the first week of 2013, while she decided to not have any further cancer treatment, various factions united behind her to make sure her book would come out, including her publisher waiving the usual fees. She was proud to see her work in a published form, but even prouder that people were genuinely liking it!. The bottom line is “Reflections of a Vampire” is her legacy and a testimony of her great ability to use words to paint a vivid, memorable story.

Eileen left this physical plain at 10:12 PM on St. Patrick’s Day, the only two people in the hospice room with her being myself and her brother, but the procession of people that came through to pay final respects was consistent throughout the day, a testimony to her impact. I have shed many tears over the past few months, and will probably shed more in the months, maybe years, to come. I’m grateful for her sake that her period of real suffering and hardship only lasted about four days. I truly don’t know if there will be another love in my life, but if there is one, she’s gonna have a tough act to follow.




One Response to “Eileen Cadman (Oct. 16, 1950 – March 17, 2013)”

  1. Dave Terry Says:

    Eileen

    Beautiful tribute, Brian. I was so sorry to hear of Eileen’s passing, but heartened by knowing that you had found each other, really against all odds, and the two of you fit so well. I feel privileged that I got to meet her, and personally experience the joy you brought to each other. It was great fun to see you happy. You’ve always been, and always will be one my music heroes, as well as someone who has always made me laugh. That makes for a pretty good definition of a friend, and I’m proud to call you one. If I were with you now, I’d embarrass you with a hug, and flip you the bird. I know that everyone who knew Eileen, even only a little, will miss her. You’re not alone. love, Dave

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