grief journey

The Grief Journey

grief in waves 3 (1)So it’s coming to me in tiny pieces. This grief journey. It’s confusing as hell. One minute I think I’ve got it. And suddenly. It’s gone. Starting over. Stuck. The beginning was easy. I knew what I had to do. Be strong. Act strong. Good choice. If I act it, I’ll be it. And it worked. Got me through the worst of days. I did believe. I still do. But it’s changed. My thoughts are spot on. I say the “right” things. But my head and heart just aren’t in synch. “Everything happens for a reason.” “I was blessed to have almost 40 beautiful years.” “We were blessed to all be together.” “Gregger would have wanted it this way.” Yada, yada, yada. But you say those words over again and again, and soon they lose meaning. Purpose. Did I believe them anymore? What was the reason? A year and a half later, I still don’t know.

fear 3But I’m getting there. Fear. “Mama angel” asked me, “What are you afraid of?” I didn’t have an answer. Nothing. Don’t know. Everything. But then I realized. I’m scared as hell. Fear is holding me back. From EVERYTHING. Fear of being happy. Again. Fear of putting my toes in the water. Fear of stepping outside my comfort zone. Fear of walking on my street. Fear of  seeing “that dog.” “Those people.” Fear of the unknown. Fear of losing. Fear of letting go. Fear of being hurt. So staying stuck is safe. No risk, no worry.

fear (1)As I write, I realize another fear. Fear of exposure. Will I publish this? Everyone will know. I will expose myself as weak. But this is the first part of the journey. Getting out. Moving on. Getting over. Escaping the fear of what others think. I read that fear shows up when you’re “growing or going where you dream of.” I don’t know what I dream of, but I know I’m growing. Learning. Every day. So fear has wrapped its arms around me. I just need to break free. Maybe one finger at a time. But I’ll do it. I need to stop running. Or start. Just running in the right direction.

To be continued…

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not just single, a widow

Not Just Single, A Widow

widowhood 2Sometimes I want to rewrite my story. Or maybe just make one up. For the times I meet new people. Or strangers. I think about this a lot. Especially lately. So much loss. So much sadness. Do people really care? But my story defines me. It’s who I am. I don’t want pity. Hugs are nice. But I feel funny. Especially when strangers feel they need to give one. Did I say something to make someone feel sorry for me? I don’t mean to. Ugh! It’s just my story. It’s sad. But the truth.  And this truth sucks. Loss. Sadness. Loss. Again. First Gregger. Love of my life. Then Lucy. My savior. Sweetness. So what’s my choice? Lie? Don’t say anything? I fight to hold the words in. Sometimes I do. But my insides ache. I walk away feeling empty. As if words were left unsaid. But why?  

widowhood 4The other day I was shopping with Angel. People stop me. Can we see her? Hold her? What’s her name? How old? Your first Yorkie? I feel compelled to explain. I cannot dismiss Lucy. My heart is aching. So the story spills out. And then comes the hug. Poor me. NO! I’m just me. I just have a story. Yes, it’s sad. But, it’s part of me. I’m here. I’m moving forward. And I’m not ready to let it go. So it pours out. I need a t-shirt. A hat. “Angel’s Mom,” “Moving On,” “Picking up the Pieces.” I don’t know.

I get my struggle. When an athlete stops playing their sport, what defines him/her? Someone asks, “What do you do?” And they say, “Well, I played this or that.” But they often struggle with the “now.” They know what they “were,” but finding the “now” is tough. My life identified me. A wife, a mom, daughter, sister, friend. But always Gregger’s wife. He was my half. My better half. I can’t let him go. Yet. So I tell the story. I lost my husband. I am not just single. I am a WIDOW. No husband. But. There is a difference. And it matters to me. My husband isn’t just gone. He didn’t just leave. He didn’t choose to leave. I didn’t choose for him to leave. And the worst part. He isn’t coming back. Or walking through the door. Anytime. He is gone. Forever. He is dead.

A widow. Still “sort of” married. Just married to someone in a “different place.” That defines me. It is my story. And that is the story I need to share. So as my journey continues, I am a widow. A widow trying to move to a new happy place. Whatever that may be.

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H(old) O(nto) P(ositive) E(xpectations)

Where there’s hope, there’s life. It fills us with fresh courage and makes us strong again.

IMG_1823This week has been a test of wills. Strength. Physical. Mental. Emotional. I’ve been through it all. Some I’ve “won.” Some I’ve simply given into. Broken down. But, most of the time, “where there’s a will, I’ve found a way.” In a week of physical challenges, I pushed myself to the max. Surpassed my goals. I believed my physical struggle paralleled Lucy’s pain. Her suffering. If she could battle on, so could I. I maxed out my times on the treadmill. I held a plank for 11 minutes and 50 seconds, all the while praying for Lucy’s recovery. Trembling, aching, I willed myself on. If I could do it, she could do it. Crazy? Maybe. But hopefully, she’s got my fighting spirit. Two years ago I was told I’d never be able to run. Never do a sit-up. Much less hold a plank for nearly 12 minutes. I was using a walker. Well, I showed them. Now it’s Lucy’s turn to show us.

hope 3While I H(old) O(nto) P(ositive) E(xpectations), I’m fighting a new battle. The Angels of Hope vs. the Demons of despair. I am cheering for the Angels. I believe their perseverance and positivity will beat the Demons. But in the silence, I slip. When the tears fall, I lose my way. The Demons tug and pull, struggling to bring me down. Take away the hope. But I will myself back. I won’t give up. Not on myself. Or my precious pup.

hope 2Hope is a funny thing. We use the word so casually. We hope to win the lottery. We hope our kids will behave. We hope it does or doesn’t rain. But there’s that other hope. That hope that we hold onto with all our might. That’s the hope I’m talking about. The Angel of Hope. The one that makes me believe. Believe there are possibilities. Even when the odds are against me. It’s the candle that flickers. Down to the wick. Almost darkness. And then. A flash of light. A burst of flame. Hope. No one gave me hope. They just told me no. NEVER. You will NEVER run again. You will NEVER be the same. You will NEVER be able to do “this.” You will NEVER be able to do “that.” At one time I believed them. I thought I’d never walk upright. Well, I showed them. I’m here now. Walking. Running. Lifting. LIVING. Beating their odds. It was slow. Painful. And took a lot of patience. I imagine it’s the same for Lucy right now. Slow. And horribly painful. But I hold onto HOPE. Believe. It is the only path to healing and happiness. Until the road brings us back home. Together.

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Love the Questions, Live the Questions

have patience and live the questionsA friend of mine posted this quote on her Facebook wall the other day. “Love the questions. Don’t search for the answers. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.” It seemed so fitting. I’ve been struggling with the questions. The lessons? What am I supposed to learn? Lucy’s senseless attack. Her suffering. My pain. I struggled with this when Gregger died. I’m still questioning. I search. For answers. But nothing comes to me. Am I being punished? Did I do something wrong? It’s certainly not Lucy. She’s a helpless soul. Innocent. Of any wrongdoing. Unconditional love. I don’t want to think that way. So I look for the lesson. There must be something to learn. Since Gregger’s death I’ve learned:

  1. Slow down. Life goes fast enough. Cherish the moments. Loved ones.
  2. Don’t waste energy with anger and hatred. Forgiveness is powerful.
  3. I have no control over the permanence of life. Nothing is permanent as much as I may want to believe.
  4. answers 1Struggle gives rise to strength. It’s a “sucky” way to find out how strong I am. Especially right now. But it’s true. They say that “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” So every day I just pray. Get me through another day. Get Lucy through another day. Let’s fight together. And we’ll be one tough team.
  5. I no longer take anything for granted. Especially that gift we call life. It is precious. Every. Single. Day. I wish I had learned this earlier. I wish I hadn’t just gone through the motions. Watched the clock. Checked off the calendar. I appreciated. I was grateful. But this is different. Life is truly a gift. And I am blessed to be here every day. I know that now.
  6. I used to hide behind walls. Glass. Fragile. You could see me. But you couldn’t touch me. Couldn’t hurt me. I would not expose myself. Bare my soul. My emotions. My experiences. My life. It was safe. But maybe this is my purpose. Maybe this is part of the lesson. Help others. Understand. Find strength. If I can bring sunshine to one cloudy day, I’ve done okay. I’ll feel good.

answers 2So I’m trying to figure out how to “live the questions.” How to just keep going in the face of adversity. Especially when I want answers. It’s not easy. I believe in fate. Things happen for a reason. But for these two events, there is no good reason. So maybe, for now, I will “live the questions.” And life will provide the best answers. I just hope in the end they are happy ones. Because I am ready for some happiness. Some smiles. Some laughter. Enough tears. Bring on the sunshine.

Pennies from Heaven for Lucy

IMG_1412To know her is to love her. But even those who don’t, love her too. Everyone loves Lucy. It’s hard not to. Precious face. Big brown eyes. Melt your heart. Little ears. Perk at the sound of her name. Peppy. Loving. Loyal. A big dog in a little dog’s body. This beloved pup is fighting with all of her might. And it’s breaking my heart. She’s battling the demons. But I’ve got to get her to fight harder. Get her to eat. I packed her favorites today. Little containers of chicken. Scrambled eggs. Cooked baby carrots. She turned her head. Looked at me with sad eyes. As if to say,”No mama. Not today.” I held the food in my hand. Under her nose. Just try a little. A taste. A smidgeon. Nothing. She turned away. Closed her eyes. Curled in my arms. And I let her be.

IMG_1803“Mama” and “mini angels” came today. She moved her eyes. But no sound. No tongue. Silence. Stillness. Sadness.

I had a sign today. I believe Gregger was telling me everything would be okay. Some of you will think I’m crazy. Off my rocker. But I’ll take whatever I can get right now. Whatever comfort comes my way. I need something to hold on to. Because I’m hanging by a thread. I was working out. My happy place. OrangeTheory Fitness. Surrounded by good people. Energy. HiFullSizeRendergh spirits. I had been in the same spot for nearly an hour. Really hadn’t moved much. Been following the workout as scripted for the day. As I went to do my umpteenth set of tricep extensions, I was distracted by something shiny between my feet. It had not been there before. I had been doing this for nearly an hour. In. The. Same. Spot. But there it was. As clear as day. Heads up. A shiny penny. I nearly burst into tears. I picked it up. Held it. And stuck it inside my shoe. This was the fourth time this had happened to me. All when I needed a sign of hope. There it was. A penny from heaven.

Crazy or not, I’ll hold onto hope. Belief. They say pennies are a sign from loved ones. A sign Gregger is watching over me. Loves me. Wants me to know he’s okay. And I’ll be okay too. He has only left me pennies. Signs of new beginnings. And, for today, THINK POSITIVE! Release my fear and focus on what I want to see in my life. What could be more fitting than that! What more could I need? Protection. Reassurance. Comfort. He was watching over Lucy. Watching over me. He would help me through this horrific ordeal. And all would be okay.

I started to believe this afteIMG_1806r my grandfather’s passing. I don’t remember the exact incident. Where or when. I just remember it happening. And I knew. He was there. But since Gregger’s passing, this is #4. Four significant times. Four times when I needed him most. And this is his way of coming through. Of being there for me. Wrapping his arms around me. Hugging me. And telling me, “Everything will be ok.” I will believe him. I will hold onto hope. And I will keep praying for my little Lucy.

“Don’t pass by that penny when you’re feeling blue. It may be a penny from heaven that an Angel’s tossed to you.”

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So Long Scottsdale, Hello San Diego

sunriseSo back to the big move. This major change in my life. Humongous! We said we’d never leave Arizona. Home. And here I was driving off. Not sunset. But sunrise. Dawn. New day. Bright. Sunny. Full of promise. Beginning. Here we go. Five hours of sleep. Marriott’s shortest stay. But it was time to hit the road. “Mini angels” were raring to go. Really? Minimal sleep. Up at the crack of dawn. No caffeine. And powered with energy. Give me what they’ve got! We loaded up. Pit stop for gas. Caffeine. Little breakfast. And then it was “Farewell Phoenix.” Hasta la vista baby. As Gregger would say, “So long. Until we meet again.” Never, “goodbye.” Too final. But this was. And as we drove, the memories flooded my mind.

sunrise 3On every corner. Something. A restaurant. We loved or hated. Starbucks. Our Sunday Funday. Casino. Part of my 60th birthday celebration. Airport. Departure for cities around the world. Or return to home. Comfort. Flashes of pictures. Years streaming. Where did the time go? Where did our life go? How did this happen? And in a flash, it was gone. All that stretched before us was open land. Desert. Barren open land. A horizon of new opportunities. New life. What was I feeling? Sad? Not really. Relieved? Slightly. Overwhelmed? A little. Scared? Most definitely. But I was ready. I knew this was the right move. The right time. And certainly the right place.

sunrise 4The drive was easy. “Mama Angel” and I never stopped talking. It’s always easy between the two of us. Ask me what we talk about. I have no idea. Life. Love. Kids. Nothing. Everything. Being friends. I am lucky. She walked into my life and blessed me with a friendship that truly comes along once in a lifetime. She has held my hand when I’m ready to fall. Hugged me when I am feeling empty. And called just when I thought my world was falling apart. So the drive was easy. This was easy. I was ready.

As we drove down Melrose and headed up Rancho Santa Fe my heart started fluttering. Butterflies tumbled in my belly. I was going “home.” A home I was going to see for the very first time. But I knew it would be perfect. “Mama” and “Papa” angel had found it for me. I knew it had their blessing. I knew they would know what was right for me. And I never doubted it for one single second. When we made that final turn it all became very real.

To be continued….

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40th Celebration…And It Truly Was!

IMG_1719So Anniversary #40. I had looked forward to this day for so many years. And then I dreaded it. But, thanks to the love and support of incredible family and friends it was one of the most beautiful days of my life. I was overwhelmed. Blessed. Grateful. Overjoyed. I know Gregger was with me. All the way.

I didn’t want to open my eyes in the morning. I didn’t want to look at the empty pillow next to mine. It shouldn’t be that way. I should be annoyed by the rumbling snores. The deep breathing. Whistling. But there was silence. Was I angry? Kind of. He should have been here. Sad? Most definitely. Disappointed. More than ever. This was OUR day. The day he set aside for the two of us EVERY YEAR since the day we were wed. Regardless of what was happening in our lives, it was OUR day. But he wasn’t here. It was me. So I had choices. Lie in bed. Cry. Or get up and go. Do something. I decided to go with Plan B. First step. Coffee. Watch the video. Recapture the years. The love. The laughter. Our life. Perfect. A few tears. But that was ok. I needed it. Needed to let go.

IMG_1756I was planning on spending the afternoon with Ashley and Tyler. Little did I know they had other plans. Something else up their sleeve. Like father, like daughter. Gregger loved surprises, and Ashley decided to channel a little Gregger herself. The original plan was to spend the whole day doing “something.” Or a whole lot of nothing. Didn’t really matter. As long as we were together. But a couple of weeks ago, she called me, completely frazzled. She had a mandatory sales meeting on the 10th. No worries. Plans change. Life gets in the way. We’d make it work. In the meantime, my “mama angel,” Marcia, planned to take OTF with me. Awesome! What a way to start my day! Perfect friend. Perfect workout. What could be better? The BEST SURPRISE! Ashley and Tyler with a bouquet of balloons! No sales meeting! They got me. And they got me good!

IMG_1739But the surprises didn’t end there. It was off to brunch, bloody’s, and besties all in one big room! Waiting at Union were my favorite people. The people who have helped me make this my “home.” The dear people who welcomed a stranger from Scottsdale with open arms. It’s hard to imagine I’ve lived here such a short time. Yet I’ve never felt so at home. So at peace. And I thank each and every one of these people. These people I call my friends. People who touch your life, your heart, your soul. People who make you want to wake up in the morning when life gets hard. People who help you smile when it would be so easy not to. Friends. And family. This was the best gift I could have received yesterday. A blanket of love.IMG_1747

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This day was another reminder of the gift we call life. A reminder to be grateful for our blessings. A reminder that gifts don’t always come in pretty wrapped packages. This day was a gift. And I am so very grateful for every moment. For my kids. For my friends. And, of course, for Gregger.IMG_1749IMG_1744IMG_1750

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Happy 40th Anniversary Gregger!

Dear Gregger,

40th anniversaryHappy 40th! Our Anniversary! This should be the easiest love letter I’ve ever written you. But it’s not. It’s the hardest. It should be a “happy” 40th. But I’m here and you’re “there.” We should be spending the day together. Reminiscing. Celebrating. Patting each other on the back and saying, “Hey, good job! We did it!” But we’re not. We talked about this day for so long. The milestones we marked. Our wedding day. Mere babes. Snowflakes drifting. A white blanket of wonderland. Good luck. I believe it was. Honeymoon. Hawaii. All those islands. But Maui. Our favorite. Who would have guessed our fairytale would “end” there? But the times between. We had it all. Extraordinary. Dreadful. Joyful. Heartbreaking.

IMG_1694#1. Dinner at home. Fancy. Home-cooked. A beautiful horn-shaped necklace rimmed with diamonds swirled on my dinner plate. Just the two of us. Cheers to a lifetime together. Dreams. Family. Laughter. Tears. Success. Heartache. Memories.

#10. A surprise trip to San Francisco. Our first time away from the kids. Alone. Romance rekindled. The hotel’s fluffy white robe. Lounging in bed. Cares washed away. Champagne. Wine. Not a care in the world. Cherishing moments just to be. Together.

#25. Eddie’s Place. My family. And our celebration at Hermosa Inn. Always something special. Mark the occasion. I know every single one.

#30. Our special day. But yet nothing special. X’s and O’s to signify your love. It circles my neck, sparkling with the glow of our love.

#35. You proposed to me. Again. And again. I said “YES!” New ring, but with all the promise of a continued lifetime of love, compassion, friendship, honesty, and trust. Ocean Club. Great dinner. Better company. Ashley and Tyler waiting by the bar. You surprised me. You loved surprising me. And I loved your surprises. What a night! What a great celebration!

We were going to renew our vows. At 20. 25. 30. 35. But life got in the way. We had time. Or so we thought. 40 was next. That was our plan.  A trip? 2nd “wedding?” We could decide. But somebody else decided for us.

40th anniversary 1So here I am. Writing my 40th anniversary love letter to you. We had the best of the best. But we also had the worst. I believe that’s what made us so great. I will cherish both. Forever. The struggles, the heartaches, the pain, taught us to be grateful. To appreciate life. Each other. Our children. It taught us to communicate. To listen. To be compassionate. With each other. With others. We did not settle. We wanted more. We always wanted more. Even after 38 years together, we wanted more. More time together. I believe it would be the same if you were here with me today. More time. More love. More of us. Nothing is easy. It takes sacrifice, struggle, and fight to be successful. At anything. Marriage is no different. We were a team. And a good one at that. You were my partner. My best friend.

You were the BEST thing that EVER happened to me. Some would say, “What about your kids? What about your grandkids?” Well, if it wasn’t for YOU, they wouldn’t be! So, yes, YOU were the BEST! You will always be the BEST. You taught me so much. I am still learning. But I realize that these lessons are coming from you. You guided me. You helped me become a better person. A stronger person. I miss you more than words could ever describe, but I am still here. I have to keep going. You have given me the strength to do that. I know I can’t stop. I can’t just “be.” Life is too short.

IMG_1698I see you everywhere. You have gifted me this week with beautiful rainbows. You smiled down on me. I know it was you. Thank you. I needed that. You are smiling at me by my bedside. On my walls. My phone. My computer. But most of all in my heart. You will be there forever. Happy 40th. 40 is the year of the ruby. My birthstone. “An eternal inner flame, a symbol that the passion in a marriage is still very alive and strong after 40 years together.” We are an eternal flame. Whether together here on earth, or separated by some other means. The flame still burns. I miss you. I wish this were different. But it’s not. So for now,  I will celebrate the love we shared. The life we shared. And the legacy of love we are leaving behind. I love you Gregger. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.

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The Final Chapter


chapterSitting in the empty shell of my house, immersed in the echo of memories, I waited for my San Diego “angels” to arrive. I was in awe of these incredible friends who were piling their kids into the car (on a moment’s notice!), driving six straight hours and graciously giving me their time, friendship and support. When I heard the truck at 11:30 pm, my body melted. Hugs, embraces, and smiling faces assured me that everything would be okay. Mini angels thought free play at midnight was the ultimate dream. They raced from room to room. Bouncing off walls, chasing Lucy, and playing as though the sun were shining brightly at dawn, they were overjoyed.

In the meantime, the “elders” scanned the house for neglected items. Oh boy! I thought I had scoured every nook and cranny. Every drawer. Cabinet. Shelf. Wrong! “Captain Angel” discovered lost treasures in every room. Art supplies. Toss. Cables. Toss. Wires. Toss. Signed basketball. Another one? How many did we have? And just when we thought we were done, drawers full of cassette tapes. Aerobics. Step classes. Classic 80s-90s. Video tapes. VCR movies. Ryan’s tennis matches. Keep? Toss? 1990 US Open Final, Agassi vs. Sampras. We laughed. It was good. I needed that. Memories.

chapter 1By 1:00 am we were done. Was I ready? Not sure. This was it. I had to close the door. Really close the door. The final time. I stood in the kitchen. I looked around. I couldn’t bear it any longer. It was time to walk away. I kept telling myself, it was no longer a home. It was merely a shell. A house. A place that would become a home to new people. They would make new memories there. I don’t think I would ever go back. So I walked out the garage door. I walked to my car. My dear “angel” held my hand. She was there with me. She asked me if I was ok. I wasn’t. But I would be. I had to be. It was time to move on. And so I was. I was lucky to have the best friends there to guide me. To support me. To comfort me. We got in the car. And the hardest part was watching the garage door slowing slide down. It was like watching the end of a sitcom. The final chapter. I imagined the characters on stage. They would be standing there. Waving. Hugging. As the curtain closed. This was the end. The end of my chapter. The beginning of a new one. And so it was time.

To be continued…

chapter 2

Packing Up

packingSo the house was packed and ready to go. I wasn’t. Or maybe I was. Either way I had to live with it for more than a week. Empty walls. Bare countertops. A cold, emotionless shell. This was no longer our home. It was simply a house. A place for people to rest their heads at night. Eat. But the warmth, laughter and love was packed away. In boxes. Ready to be moved elsewhere. It would all come with me. For now, I just had to sit in the cold. It wasn’t easy. I remembered the parties. Ryan’s 18th. Ashley’s 18th. Graduation. Adam and Katrina’s engagement. Ashley and Tyler’s engagement. So many celebrations. So many happy moments. The house filled with family, friends, and fun. So much fun. But now, it was empty. Lonely. And quiet. I kept busy. Tried to stay away. I used to love to be home. Now I just wanted to be out.

movingThursday came. Moving day. UGH! Five, six, seven buffed up dudes showed up at my door. Ready, set, roll! They were packing, taping, wrapping, shuffling, and carting away like busy worker bees harvesting honey. I wasn’t sure what to do. I held Lucy. Sat on a barstool. Kept looking around as the house emptied out. A few tears escaped every now and then. How could they not? 22 years. My home. Our home. This should not be happening. Or if it was, it should be different. But here it was. And I was moving on. 9 1/2 hours later, I sat on the floor. The empty shell of our home echoed from the silence. And I waited.

My angels were coming. From San Diego. “Mama” angel had called several hours before and said they were coming that afternoon. These angels were just too good to be true. But they were. And I knew that when they got there I would be okay. So I waited. In the silence. With the memories. And the tears.

To be continued…

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