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Vacation

Posted on by Julie in Maketym, Uncategorized, vacation

Dearest Rick,

Back home it is snowing and everyone is growing weary of the cold.  I’m not sure if the groundhog saw his shadow last week but I am sure that spring will not be here fast enough.

Here in Florida I am enjoying time away catching up with my parents.  We had lunch and sangria with   Uncle Lee and Aunt Linda yesterday.  Today I visited with Aunt Bev and Uncle Bob and we had dinner with my cousin Stephanie who is town on business.   It is perfect pool weather and I have taken nice long walks and had time to start reading a book.  I only checked my work email once so far – I can’t help it you know.  It will make it easier to jump back in when I return to work on Monday.

Life has been moving so fast.  I’ve been looking forward to this break to read, rest and relax.  I was looking forward to a change of scenery to help take my mind off of life without you.  But there are reminders of you everywhere.  I see you in the pool lifting the kids on your shoulders and launching them and smiling as they land with a big splash and lots of laughter.  I see you knocking on the bathroom window while I shower, trying to prank me.  I see us playing pinochle with mom and dad as the kids watch TV on the air mattress in the front room.  I see you walking around Westwind in your shorts while all the snowbirds have jackets on because it dropped below 70 degrees.  You are proudly telling them you are from up north.  It isn’t obvious with your year round tan, a benefit of working outside each day.

When I went to sleep last night, I longed for you to surprise me in the middle of the night, like you did on Fathers day so many years ago when the kids and I were here for two weeks.  At the time I thought I was dreaming and when I realized you were really standing there, it was one of the sweetest surprises of my life.  It was the perfect example of how you made tym for me and the kids.

Life is so much harder without you.  Selling the house, buying property, inspections, home repairs, remodeling contracts, doing the taxes, and yes, even the laundry.

Vacationing without you shouldn’t be hard too.  But it is.  I’m grateful for the many wonderful vacations we took to Hawaii , Mexico and Florida.  I have lots of sweet memories from those wonderful trips.        There will be no new memories to make with you having fun in the sun so I will cling to the old memories as I work on my tan.

Love,

Julie

 

What is Grief?

Posted on by Annika Mikkelson in Uncategorized

 

No one ever taught me how you are supposed to grieve or how to deal with the loss of a parent. It is a difficult topic to discuss so it’s easier just to avoid it.

Grief is defined as deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death. This definition seems too straightforward for me. Grief is different for everyone. No two people grieve in the exact same way and loss doesn’t affect people in the same way, even if they have lost the same person.

This is something I have especially struggled with. I tend to compare myself to those around me in situations where I don’t know how to react or respond, and grieving the loss of my dad qualifies as one of those situations. So not knowing how to deal with this loss, I compared myself to my family to get an idea of how I needed to be grieving this tremendous loss. That didn’t get me very far because we are all coping differently and in our separate ways.

So how am I grieving?

Well, my answer has changed slightly since I began seeing a therapist. Before starting therapy, I didn’t think I was really dealing with my grief at all. I wouldn’t bring up my dad very much because it made me too upset. I avoided thinking about the future because I didn’t want to imagine him not being here for it. I didn’t want to believe he was really gone, so I tried not to. I reflected on the good times I had with him through smiles and tears but for the most part I tried to keep myself busy (which is really difficult when you don’t have a full-time job btw) to avoid wallowing in my sadness and heartbreak.

I have always been my own harshest critic, and this process has been no different. I still don’t think I am grieving “well”, but with reassurance from my therapist, I am grieving the best way I can at this point. I haven’t turned to drugs or alcohol to drown my sorrows. I haven’t isolated myself from friends and family, I haven’t become suicidal or thought of harming myself in any way. Overall I am dealing with the grief in a pretty healthy way… so why do I feel like I’m not grieving properly? Probably because grief is so different for everyone and there is no way right way to do it.

Therapy has helped me to realize that just because I am doing well doesn’t mean I need to feel well. I still break down and cry when I think of my dad’s absence. The thought of him not walking me down the aisle someday is unbearable and it breaks my heart to know he won’t have the chance to be the awesome grandpa I imagined he would be. Milestones will be the hardest to deal with and his absence will always be felt the most in my best and worst moments. We will have to celebrate birthdays, graduations, and other accomplishments when celebrating is the last thing on our minds. As Rebecca Pearson said, “the happiest moments will also be a little sad.”

While I might always feel like I can be grieving differently or coping with this loss in a better way, I know I am doing the best I can.

Just Looking

Posted on by Julie in Grief, Maketym, New Home

Last night I spent some time with my new neighbors Ann and Michael.  They are a lovely couple, also new to the building having relocated from California.  They have have a beautiful art collection, love the Cubs, lean left politically and have excellent taste in wine.  I see many great times ahead as this friendship continues to grow.

We shared an amazing bottle of Cabernet as we discussed a decorating plan for our shared foyer and we ordered nameplates for our doors.  Ann referred me to a fabulous hairdresser that knows just how to make women over 50 look fabulous and as I left she agreed to look out for packages by my back door while I’m away on business.

Back in my apartment, I settled in with one more glass of wine and feeling on a roll with making new connections, I started scoping out some dating web sites.  WHAT?  Oh Boy.  I blame it on my colleague who lost her husband a month after Rick passed.  She planted the idea earlier in the day when we were stair climbing on a work break.

I didn’t post any pictures or create a profile.  I was just looking.  Like I respond to the sales clerks offering their assistance in a fancy store where I cannot afford the merchandise… “No thank you…I’m just looking”

I checked out a few profiles and while a few were interesting, none resonated with me even a little.  I started to imagine meeting someone for coffee, going to a show, starting anew in establishing a relationship and it scared the hell out of me.  If I decide I’m not interested how do I bow out gracefully?  If I am interested and he is not, how do I deal with the rejection?   Is there someone out there that can come close to the man I loved for 27 years?

I panicked.  Undo!  Unsubscribe!   That didn’t work.  This isn’t an online retailer Julie!

Of course the internet has a way of sending you down a rabbit hole and I soon got emails with  “More Matches are ready for your review” and referrals to articles like “Top Ten Dating Mistakes to Avoid”.    I feel like I started down a path that I can’t undo.  There is no rewind button when it comes to death.

But I can press pause.  I need to Maketym for so many things as I settle in to my new home.  I’m in the midst of a remodel and redecorating project and I’m planning a black tie affair for my wedding anniversary.   Then I can pick up on the many quilting and scrapbook and stamping projects that I’ve put on hold.  I have web design and writing classes to take, concerts and sporting events to attend, reunions to plan.  And lots of new wine to try.  Meanwhile, I’m just looking.

Share Don’t Compare

Posted on by Julie in Grief

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.

 

It could be worse…

Posted on by Julie in Grief

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!!

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.

 

You got this!

Posted on by Julie in Confidence

 

Tonight I’m doing laundry.  Its my least favorite chore and one I have had to do EVERY SINGLE WEEK since Rick passed away.  Yeah, it really sucks.  At his visitation friends and family frequently offered their help with anything I might need.  In the last and 7th hour of the wake I was feeling snarky and when one of Erik’s friends said, “if there is anything you need…” I quickly asked, “Would you do my laundry?”  The poor kid was so shocked I thought he was going to faint.

As I emptied my laundry basket tonight, laying in the bottom was a dinner receipt from a 2016 trip Rick and I took to Cabo Mexico.  Hmmm…I have no idea how it landed there but I would like to think it’s a sign from heaven. Is this Rick’s way of telling me “you got this babe!”?

I consider myself a pretty confident person but we all have our insecurities.  Two days before Rick’s accident, I finished an amazing book called “She Liked Her Life”.  The story was told from the perspective of the mom who had died, the daughter and the widower.  I was fascinated with the story and after Rick passed I contacted the author asking her if she would tell Ricks story.  She politely declined and gave me some suggestions on how I might proceed.

Fast forward to a month ago when I had the idea to write a book about the history of 3750 Lake Shore Drive.  As I excitedly shared the idea with a colleague who has published two fictional novels I suggested that we collaborate on the project – I would do the research and write the facts and he could do a companion piece:  A fictional story to go with the setting.  He politely declined.

That night it dawned on me.  I wanted to write but I didn’t have the confidence in myself to do it on my own.  Even after starting this blog and getting such positive feedback, I still didn’t think I was cut out to be a “real” author.  I admit I’m still a bit unsure but I plan to take some classes that will surely help me sharpen my skills.

Rick was pretty confident also.  He was so darn smart.  I remember one of our mutual friends saying how   frustrating it was that he knew something about everything.  I have to admit, he really did know something about everything-  and it got annoying as he always seemed to be the one who was “right”.

The first time I truly saw insecurity in Rick was just a month before his accident.  After being unemployed for a couple of years and with sporadic job opportunities after that, he had talked about going back to school.    There was always an excuse – we were waiting to see if we would move to Denver; we couldn’t afford it; a new concrete job was opening up that would keep him busy.  I didn’t want to nag but I finally asked him one day why he wasn’t pursuing some of the options we had discussed.  I asked him point blank if he was afraid.  I think he was taken aback and he went to the garage to have a smoke.  When he came back inside he said, “Julie, you hit the nail on the head.  I don’t have the confidence in myself to start something new.”

Rick was such an expert in the concrete industry it was hard for him to imagine himself doing anything different.

I can certainly relate.

What I LOVE about you

Posted on by Julie in Love

 

When Rick and I were engaged we met with our pastor in preparation for our wedding day.  I don’t think I took these counseling sessions very seriously.  I was ready to get married and this just seemed to be one of the required steps that we were obligated to take in order to seal the deal.  However there is one thing I clearly remember from those sessions.  The pastor asked each of us what we loved about each other.

Why in the world would he ask us that?   We were engaged – obviously we loved each other and why would we want to discuss it with a stranger.  (The head pastor was not available to marry us so this was an associate pastor that Rick and I didn’t really connect with).  Anyway, I honestly struggled with my answer.  I loved Rick but looking back I think at the time I was more in love with the idea of getting married.  I was so focused on my goal of finding a soul mate that I really had not considered what I truly loved about him.

Can you just know that you love someone and not be able to articulate it?  Or did I just need to take the TYM to organize my thoughts.  I’ve written in other posts about the difficulty we both had in verbally expressing our love for each other.  I express my thoughts so much better in writing.

About a month before Rick’s accident, Terry, a good friend and neighbor passed away at age 51 leaving my friend Amy a widow and her four boys without their dad.  Rick and I were at a wedding when we got the news and we just held each other grieving for a life that was taken to soon,  I have often thought about funerals and how loved ones come together to share with the grieving family how their loved one touched their life.  I’ve always been curious about what friends and family would say about me at my funeral.  After Terry’s funeral, I made a promise to myself that I would work on sharing with those that I love what I love about them.  I even wrote it in my planner.

I actually wrote down that I would write an obituary.  My intent was to write a mock eulogy as a way to fully express to Rick what I loved about him.  This is one thing on my long “To Do” list that I didn’t accomplish by the deadline.  Of course I had NO idea my deadline would be just a few weeks away.

When I wrote Rick’s eulogy the words flowed easily and with my thoughts on paper, I was able to verbally share my love for him at the funeral with confidence and conviction.

So 27 years later, I can answer my pastor’s question.  It took me long enough and I have shared with friends my fear that Rick didn’t know how much I loved him.  They have all assured me that he knows.  I am learning to trust that he indeed does know and this helps sustain me when I am overcome with grief.

 

 

Dreaming of Retirement

Posted on by Julie in Retirement

This week I traveled to Denver for work.  I love Denver.

My last trip to Denver was February 2016.  The Broncos had just won the Super Bowl and the city was in celebration mode.  Rick joined me on my trip as we were hoping to move there.    Rick was unemployed and was willing to move and start anew.  He was contemplating a new career as an appraiser, home inspector or realtor.  While in town we met with a realtor and began a preliminary search for our next home – the one where we would retire.  We were encouraged by the lower taxes and lower cost of living.  I had my eye on a house in Evergreen, a place in the foothills where we could vacation at home and where my commute would be easier than Chicago.

A month later I learned that I did not get the job I had hoped for.  I was crushed and Rick was disappointed but very supportive of me.  We started talking about a plan B.  Perhaps we would stay in Illinois after all.  We thought about building our dream home with an in-law suite for his mom.  I would put up with my long commute to work for a few more years and then do consulting work until I could fully retire.

I hired a career coach to help me develop my plan for the future.  Rick and I met with a realtor and started discussing what we needed to do to update our house to sell.   A former employer of Rick’s was back in business and hired him.  We took our first vacation without kids (since our honeymoon) and we started adjusting to the empty nest.  We celebrated Annika’s college graduation with her boyfriends family and we celebrated Erik’s return to football after his back surgery.  The future looked bright.

After Rick’s death, I proceeded with the plan to sell our home.  It went on the market yesterday and as much as I love being in the city close to work and in a space that I am making my own, I am sad to be leaving the community where we spent 26 years.

I am also proceeding with my plan to retire from USDA when I am eligible.  May 2020 will come fast and I look forward to taking on a new challenge.   It has been a great place to work for 30 years and I am grateful for the wonderful opportunities I have have been fortunate to experience.

But the rest of our retirement plan is not to be.  We won’t be spending winter months in Hawaii; we won’t be building a home.  Rick won’t walk his daughter down the aisle someday and he won’t be buying his son a beer on his 21st birthday.  He won’t hold his first grandchild in his arms.  When I think of the wonderful memories our family has with Rick, I smile.  When I think of the future that will never be, I am angry; I am sad; I am lonely.  Most days it is hard for me to have faith and hope for a bright future.

Regardless, I AM formulating new plans for my future.  I envision a time in my life when I will travel extensively and spend my days reading and writing.  Before I retire I will take some creative writing classes and I will start researching the history of my new residence.  I want to write a historical fiction novel with 3750 N Lake Shore Drive as the setting.  I picture myself writing at a desk by the window of my new home, sipping coffee (or wine) while enjoying my view of Lake Michigan.

It won’t be the view of the mountains that I anticipated.  But it will be beautiful.

 

 

Merry New Year

Posted on by Julie in Grief

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.