Category: Grief

Dear Rick,

After a week of sleeping in, it’s the night before I go back to work and I am laying awake willing myself to get some sleep before the alarm goes off at 5.  I will hit the snooze as you know.  I’m still not a morning person.  I know how much that annoyed you and I would give anything to see your face in the morning even if it’s an irritated plea for me to get up at the sound of the first alarm.

I worked on our taxes today and had to change my status to widowed.  Turbotax sends their condolences.

I also worked on setting up more repairs for the sale of our Oswego home.  With the help of our friend Tim, the place looks brand new.  With the help of our friend Rebecca it is under contract and she is getting me a fair price for it.  And our neighbors are clearing the snow for us until it is officially sold.  I am so thankful for everyone’s help as I navigate this stuff on my own.

Last night I was at your sisters for bunco.  It was good to see all of our friends but it was hard for me thinking that you should be there also.  I retreated upstairs briefly when I felt the tears coming on.  I texted Erik and he came and picked me up.  He got me safely home in the snowstorm while I had a good drunk cry.  He is such a caring and helpful young man – just like you.  I want you to know how much he has grown up so much since your death.   He is taking good care of me and also being a responsible student.  This morning, he cleared two feet of snow off my car and took me to the store.  We talked about financial security and he assured me that you and I have taught him how important it is for him to live within his means.  He has expensive taste but he plans on getting a good job when he graduates.  Next week he is getting a mental toughness award from the National Football Federation and I just need to believe that you will be with us at Halas Hall as he gives his acceptance speech.

Your “Pumpkin” is doing awesome also.  She got a job and she is coming to visit me this weekend.  Can you believe she will soon be 23 years old!?  She is making me go to the gym with her – I need that push as I’ve gotten out of my fitness routine.  To thank her I will offer to take her out for ice cream but I imagine she will be giving that up for Lent.  She is working so hard to manage her grief and I am so amazed at her strength.  I know you are so proud of her and I want you to know I am trying to be here for her in the way you were.  You were the person she could count on when she just needed to talk and needed someone to listen and not try to fix things for her.

And I am doing the best I know how.

Last night I dreamt (again) that you were really alive.  It was all a big mistake and you assured me that you had corrected the death certificate paperwork.  Probably because I dreamt another time that you could not get your drivers license renewed because I had filed a death certificate with the Secretary of State.   While these dreams bring me moments of joy the reality that sets in when I wake up leaves me depressed all day.  As each day goes by I am plagued by a deeper sadness and I am afraid.   I fear that I will forget your smile and your touch.  I fear that I won’t find joy again or if I do, I fear it will erase the joyous memories I had with you.

I pray every day that the kids and I  can find peace in the wonderful memories we have.  Thank you for being such a wonderful husband and father.

I miss you so much.

Love,

Julie

The other night I had dinner with a good friend (Jill) who is also a widow.

Our families have been friends since we met at church about 15 years ago.  We spent many Friday nights at bible studies (with adult beverages) while our children played in the basement or yard.  We spent a fun weekend in the Dells with another church family; we attended our kids sporting events together; we had a lot in common.  We still do.  Our husbands, the dads to our adult children are gone.

As we both grieve, we are both writing.  Jill is studying scripture and journaling her thoughts as she studies God’s word for peace and direction.  While her writings are private and mine are published for the world to see, both of us are finding comfort in expressing our thoughts and feelings.  Our writings do not result in answers to why death came so early for our husbands but our writing is an outlet – it helps us organize our thoughts and express our feelings during the all to frequent times of loneliness and despair.  Writing helps bring clarity and organization to the millions of thoughts circulating in our head on a daily basis.

Yet we are very different in how we are processing our new normal.  Neither one of is right and neither one of is wrong.  We are just different.

As I showed Jill my new home she teared up when she saw a wedding picture and a teddy bear made from one of Rick’s hawaiian shirts.  Later she told me that she cannot look at pictures of her husbands smiling face.  She also shared the nightmares she was having – nightmares where her husband was not the loving and devoted husband he was when he was alive.  She told me – I’m at a different place in my grief than you are.

I on the other hand have pictures of Rick everywhere.  I listen to the funeral playlist at least weekly.  Last night I watched “This is Us” knowing it was the episode where  Jack’s death would be revealed and knowing it would lead to another ugly cry.  Rick’s photo is on my watch, my phone, and my computer monitor.  I have dreamt of him whispering his love for me in my ear as he covers me with a blanket to keep me warm.  I’m planning to spend our anniversary with friends and family because I cannot bear to mark the day alone.

We are definitely in different places with our grief, however,  there is comfort in being able to talk about our loss and how it has impacted our families.  We can cry together without fear of making the other person uncomfortable.  A few days earlier I spent the evening with another good friend and every time I got emotional I found myself changing the subject to something more light hearted.  She was probably not uncomfortable but I was.

The truth is, no matter what we do – whether we have cleaned out his closet or not, whether we have buried him or keep his ashes on our window sill – nothing we do will bring him back.  And while looking at a picture can ease one widow’s grief, it can stir up anger in another.  We have to do what is right for us to help us cope and as we cope, it is so comforting to talk with a friend who gets it.

On my bus ride home tonight I read a devotion sent to me from the pastor who officiated at Rick’s funeral.  It talked about sharing but not comparing.  I had not yet finished this post and thought – wow – that is the perfect title.  Whether we are grieving a death, or struggling with any of life’s challenges we can find such peace in being able to share with someone who can empathize.    But to truly benefit from the gift of a listening friend, we must remember to share, not compare.

While Jill and I are both facing our future as single, 50-something, empty nesters without our soul mates, our stories are different; our grief journeys are different;  God’s plan for each of us is different.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of comparing.  I just did so in this post.   But I’m working on it.  Meanwhile, I thank God for Jill and for several other young widow friends.  They are key to my survival.

One of the books that I have read since Rick’s passing is “Option B” by Sheryl Sandburg.  One thing from her book that really resonated with me was her story about someone telling her “It could be worse.”    In her situation, “worse” would have been if her husband had been driving with the children when he had his heart attack.

When I reflect on my situation I think about several worst case scenarios.  Rick could have died when the kids were young and they would have missed out on getting to know what a great dad he was;  I could have been left destitute without life insurance or savings.  If I let my imagination run wild I can think of plenty of horrific examples, however, one scenario keeps popping up.  Divorce.

I had dinner with a friend shortly after Rick’s death.  This friend is going through a divorce and I could feel that we were both experiencing our own pain from relationships that have ended.  Trying to console him, I said something to the effect of “I think your situation is worse than mine; I didn’t have a choice in losing my husband, but in divorce, the other person is gone, but they are still around, having rejected you.”   Ouch!!!  That’s exactly what he said to me.  “Ouch Julie.  That hurt”.

If I had chosen my words more carefully, I would have obviously been more eloquent and caring.

A high school friend of mine said it better.  Her husband left her just before their 25th anniversary.  She recently texted me to let me know she had read my posts here on maketym.com and she shared how reading my blog brought back memories of her divorce.  Except, she wasn’t allowed or able to grieve in the same way.  She was discarded, left behind to deal with lawyers and insults.  These are her words.  Reading this broke my heart and I thought about another friend of mine that divorced a few years ago.  I didn’t know what to say to her, just as many don’t know what to say to me.  We talked about the rubber tree plant that a couple of us had given her at her wedding shower and when she said she still had it, I cracked a joke about it lasting longer than the marriage.  Yeah.  I know.  “Ouch Julie, That hurt.”

Thankfully, both of these friends know me and my sarcasm well enough to know that I did not intend to be hurtful.  Sometimes my words don’t match my intent and every once in a while my jokes are not funny.  At least that is what my kids say.

But what about divorce vs death?  Is one worse than the other?  I think it depends.  I’ve read stories from other widows who were relieved that their spouse was gone; for them, it was an escape from abuse or an unhealthy relationship.  I also know that some divorces are truly amicable and the best outcome for the particular situation at hand.  While other divorces are riddled with such hatred and resentment that the resulting heartache can lead to dreadful, hurtful  behavior.  One of my wise friends says, hurting people hurt others.  This is so true and we have all seen this.

This is what I do know.  When a relationship ends, we experience a myriad of emotions.  Grief, sorrow, anger, fear, and even relief and joy.  I imagine the control or lack there of in ending the relationship plays a part in these emotions as well.  Did I want this?  Could I have done something to prevent it?  Whatever the cause, we grieve.  The end of a life.  The end of a marriage.  The end of a dream.  Grief is grief and while it can always be worse, we can help those that are grieving with a simple caring message.

To my divorced and widowed friends, I am sorry for your loss.   Even though it could be worse – it is bad enough and I am sorry you are in pain.

*** the picture is purely for attention.  Go Vikings!!

Less than one hour in the year 2017 and you would think I would be happy to bid farewell to the worst year of my life.  Instead I am on the verge of a panic attack.   I’ve been so focused on getting though Christmas that had not given New Years Eve much thought.  Now, as the minutes tick away and 2018 gets near, I want to stop time.  I want to hold on for dear life – like I might drown in my own tears if I let go.  It is so strange but I feel like 2018 will mean he is really gone.  It is so final.  Of course he is really gone.  I know that and no matter how much I focus on keeping busy, his absence is screaming at me everywhere I turn.

It wasn’t until I sat down to write that I recalled how New Years Eve was such a special night for Rick and I.  After we were married we realized that we had seen each other every New Years going back to 1988.  In fact, it was New Years eve 1988 when I met Rick for the first time.  Rick stopped by my friend Sally’s house briefly.  I cannot remember if he was alone or on his way to pick up his girlfriend.  I cannot remember what Sally and I did that night.  It was an uneventful encounter and  I would not see Rick again until her wedding later that year, but I would see him at NYE 1989, 1990, 1991 and so on….till 2017.   Although we didn’t share a kiss at midnight those first few years, I could always count on Rick saying “Merry New Year” just like Eddie Murphy.

I had planned to spend the evening with girlfriends – but that didn’t work out.  I convinced Erik to stay in Chicago and he did.  We went shopping and had a nice dinner.  He wanted to go out and I did not so I encouraged him to go out with his friends.

It’s a good night to be in.  Its so cold outside; there is plenty to watch on tv; and my wine bar is fully stocked.   I should be able to see the fireworks at midnight from my bedroom window and in the morning I will see the sunrise over Lake Michigan.  It is so different than the past 30 years.  I don’t feel merry by any means but hopefully the new year will be.

Merry New Year.