Category: memories

One YEAR

Posted on by Julie in Acceptance, Grief, memories

A YEAR ago my life changed forever.  Without warning you collapsed; your heart stopped.  You were revived three times and as you lay in the hospital unconscious and broken, I pleaded with you to open your eyes.  But you didn’t respond; you were already gone.  A few days later I whispered “I love you” in your ear and as you took your last breath, I let go of your hand.

I let go of your hand.

I let go of your clothes;

I let go of our furniture;

I let go of our home;

I let go of our dreams for the future.

I started a new journey in the city.  I discovered a passion for writing.  I designed my dream home.  I formed new plans for my retirement.  I started to find my way out of the fog of grief.  I tried to rush it, and learned to take my TYM and slow down.  Letting go takes TYM.

As I continue my journey in YEAR two without you I will continue to let go.

I will let go of your ashes;

I will let go of all the dating apps;

I will let go of wearing my wedding ring;

I will let go of some weight;

I will let go of my grief;

I will let go of my fears;

I will let go of the hurtful relationships in my life.

In the coming YEAR as I let go of all these things I will build myself up again. I will lean on God.  As I heal I will gain strength and confidence and I will find a new happiness. Just like YEAR one, there will be bumps in the road but my family and friends will be there to keep me from crashing.

In the coming YEAR I have goals to achieve and living to do. I’ll be building muscle at the gym and working on my swing on the golf course. I’ll be honing my cooking skills and entertaining friends in my new home. I’ll be watching football and going to concerts. I’ll be traveling to Florida and to Hawaii and maybe Sweden.  I’ll be starting my first novel.  I’ll be continuing my countdown to retirement.

Most importantly I will be learning how to be happy on my own.   I will be learning to trust that God has a plan for me.  Despite my faith, my need to be in charge makes this difficult.  It’s hard to imagine a plan — a happy one – that won’t include you.  I need to let go of my doubts.

As I fully let go and find my way without you, I will hold on to your memory and love.  For that is buried deep in my heart and will always be with me.

I will (always) remember you

Posted on by Julie in memories, Uncategorized

It’s almost Memorial day, a time to remember the fallen; the brave men and women that sacrificed their lives defending our freedom.  My own personal connection to a fallen soldier is David Fisher, a relative on my mom’s side who died in 1968 at age 21 during the Vietnam war.  I was only 4 years old and never met him, but having lost Rick means I am better able to empathize with others who have lost a family member.  Whether our loved one died a hero defending our country or from cancer or from an accident, the loss is painful, numbing and sad.

This Memorial day, I will remember the fallen, but mostly I will remember Rick.  As I approach one year without him I have been thinking about so many sweet memories of our life together.  As I have started to date and create new memories with my friends I think about how this will impact those memories of Rick.  Does the passage of time make the memories foggier?  Does creating new memories mean I am dismissing or tossing those memories aside?  No way.

I remember a pastor of mine equating the love in our heart to a pie that can be cut into multiple pieces.  He talked about how having a second child does not take away or diminish the love you have for your first child; it’s just another piece of the pie.  Each piece of the pie is the same and you love each piece equally, no matter how many pieces there are.  And just like there is enough love in one’s heart for many family and friends, I believe there is plenty of space in my heart for memories.  Adding new memories will never take away the fond memories already stored.  I just might need to bake a bigger pie.

Rick still leaves me little signs to let me know he is with me.  This weekend I hosted 3 of my sorority sisters and we had an amazing time together walking along the lake, shopping, dining and dancing till the wee hours of the morning.  At 6 am this morning I awoke to a swat on the right side of my butt and it was not my girlfriend Sue who was sound asleep to my left on the other side of the bed.  I’d like to think it was Rick teasing me about something I will leave between him and I.  But It’s also his way of letting me know that he approves of the people I am meeting and the changes I am making in this next chapter of my life.  I think he sees how happy I am.  He also sees that not every day is a happy one but the good outnumber the bad.

Tomorrow I will make one last visit to our Oswego home and I will leave some of his ashes in a few strategic places.  Memorial Day seems to be the perfect day to reflect on the great memories we made on Arbor Lane and to leave a piece of him there forever while burying the memories of him deeper into my soul to make room for some new ones.

 

 

 

6 Months

Posted on by Julie in Grief, holiday, memories

 

It’s been 6 months since you took your last breath.

We spent your birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years day without you.  In the next 6 months we will spend Valentines Day, Easter, Memorial Day, Mother’s day and Father’s day, the 4th of July, Erik’s 21st birthday, Annika’s 23rd birthday and my 54th birthday without you.  I will spend the 26th Anniversary of our wedding day without you.

You were not here to see Erik start in a Division 1 collegiate football game.  (He did great!)  You were not here to see Annika’s new home.  (It is SO cute!) You were not here to meet our precious grandpup Pumpkin.  (I call her Calabaza.)  You were not here to toast the Craig’s in their new home with the Besties.  (We toasted you.) In the next 6 months you will not be here for Cubs opening day.  (And we can walk!)  You will not be here for my first cocktail party in Chicago.  (Actually, you would not be thrilled that it is black tie optional.)

In another 6 months we will hit the one year mark and we will start over again.  Another holiday, another birthday, another big event without you.  I doubt it will get any easier.  We will celebrate marriages and babies without you.  (No pressure Annika and Erik).  We will vacation in Hawaii…and take your ashes.  It’s about time you get to fly free after so many vacations there.  I will retire, without you.

Yet, you are here.  You are ingrained on our hearts and your wonderful spirit is alive, leaving signs to let us know you are not far.   Like speaking to us through a medium, and the hawks in our yard, and the receipt in my laundry basket.  Like playing this song when we celebrated Erik’s game and when he and Alice went to the Bristol Tap on your birthday and when Annika and I were returning from Spain.

Of course we want you to be physically here with us and that is what we grieve.  Your physical absence is a reality we don’t want to accept.  We want to see the joy on your face and we want to hear your incredible laugh.  I want you to hold me in your arms and tell me I’m going to be happy again.

Like the day we married and the day our children were born and the Christmas mornings when the kids opened their gifts from Santa with such delight.  Like the day Annika graduated from college and the day Erik signed to play college football.  Like the time we spent in San Francisco with our Besties.  Like the times we vacationed in Hawaii.  (Except the trip where Erik bailed on us.)  These are just a few of the memories we hold dear.  And although we do not need pictures to remind us of these good times, we cherish the pictures we have and find comfort in looking at them over and over and over again.

It’s been 6 months since you were here.