Tag: fairytale

Passing The Test

Passing The Test

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

IMG_2403Year two was simply about riding the waves. Grief. Joy. Turmoil. Uncertainty. I never knew from one day to the next. Test after test. I was barely holding on. One night I realized something was horribly wrong. Face on fire. Sick. Achy. And alone. I grabbed Angel and raced to Urgent Care. Just as I suspected. Cellulitis. Another bug sting. Awful. I had to watch it. Scary. No one there. My face was swelling. What do I do? No Gregger. Again. I couldn’t be around Ashley. She was in the midst of IVF. I wouldn’t let her risk it. So I was alone. Drove to the ER. Ugh! Walked in. Waited in that cold, dreary place. Gregger. Where are you? You should be here holding my hand. And just as I suspected, I was admitted. Not even a room. A bed with a curtain. No bathroom. Shared with a bunch of strangers. Gross. Gregger would never let that happen. But there I was.

IMG_2404One day stretched into two. Then three. Then four. I begged to go home. They finally moved me to a private room. I stared out the window. Clouds. Gregger. Are you there?  GET ME OUT OF HERE! Finally. But with conditions. A pick line. A portable IV. That didn’t sound too bad. I could handle that. Or so I thought. Not! I couldn’t shower. Couldn’t change clothes. Couldn’t be without this massive bag hanging from my arm. They left out those pertinent details. So back to the ER I went. Out it came. Or part of it. Three trips back to the ER before the mess was gone.Two weeks of hell. But I made it. Another test. I passed. They say the difference between school and life is that “in school you’re taught a lesson then given a test. In life, you’re given a test that teaches you a lesson.” I was learning. Getting stronger.  But I begged for a break. A pass. Time out. Whatever. No more tests. At least for a while. Hadn’t I proved myself these past two years? I will never stop growing, but does it always have to be so hard?  I needed some happy news. Joy. And a little hope. Maybe tomorrow…

To be continued…IMG_2405

The White Butterfly

The White Butterfly

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

imageI was a mess without Gregger. Some days were so damn tough. It should have been easier. It wasn’t. He was my fixer. My comfort. My hand holder. And he wasn’t here. So I looked to the sky. The stars. The clouds. Anything. A sign. Give me something. And one day he did. Right in my backyard. A beautiful white butterfly.  Just for a second. I didn’t think much about it. But then it came back. Day after day. After day. It would flutter in. Stop for a moment. Flutter away. Always managed to catch my eye. Wherever I was. The kitchen. Family room. Outside. I’d approach it. Try to capture a picture. Never. Gone in a flash. But I knew. This was not random. Coincidence. Accidental. It was real. A sign. My first. Just when I needed it most.

imageMy butterfly. Still comes. On days I’m feeling sad. Empty. Or just needing a little comfort. It came several days ago. Hadn’t been by for a while. But it knew. There it was. I just stood at my patio door. Staring. Tears filling my eyes. Threatening to spill over. It fluttered in the bushes. Stayed a few extra seconds. And then off it went. But those seconds melted my heart. Gave me peace. Joy. The butterfly is a symbol of transformation. Rebirth. Growth. Joy. But, most of all, the white butterfly symbolizes the soul of a departed loved one. Gregger. Reminding me he was ok. I’d be ok. We’d be ok. He was here. Telling me everything would be okay. He was watching over us. Crazy? I think not. Coincidence? Couldn’t be. My butterfly showed up during the toughest of times. I’d catch a glint in the corner of my eye. Run out to see it. It would hover over the same bush and be gone. Every time. I’d see white butterflies other places. I’d smile. But this one was special. This was MY butterfly. The sign of “new beginnings.” In so many ways. It still comes. Not quite as often. But often enough. To let me know we’ll all be okay. Thank you Gregger.

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curve-balls

Curve Balls

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

imageDeath taught me “that tomorrow is not real, and yesterday is no longer here. It made me realize that living inside my comfort zone means that I don’t appreciate life as much as I should. It taught me to respect my sunrises and my sunsets. To dance when music is playing. To laugh at least two times a day and to say I love you even when I am mad at someone. Because at the end of this, nothing else will matter.”

Just as I was trying to figure out a way to pull myself out of this “funk,” life threw me another curve ball. I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself. I just wanted to ride on cruise control. A month. A week. At this point, I’d be happy with a few days. So I wasn’t prepared when Ashley and Tyler came over and hit me with their “tough” news. Something a mama never wants to see. Feel. Hear. Her kids hurting. Struggling. Trying to get pregnant. But it wasn’t working. Two years. I suspected. For a while. Tried to keep it to myself. Maybe nudged a few times here and there. But I knew it was their thing. Not mine. I just know (personally) what it feels like to want a baby and somehow it’s just not working. It sucks. And then there are all the people asking, “So when are you guys going to get pregnant? Do you want kids?” Posts of friends having babies. Getting pregnant. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. So their pain became my pain. In a matter of seconds. I tried to hold back the tears. It was tough. I didn’t want them to see my pain. So there we were. What can I do? How can I help? I’m here. For whatever. Just tell me. I felt helpless. But wanted to be so helpful. All at once. But there was a plan. Doctor’s appointment set. And then we’d see. Fingers crossed. Prayers started. That’s really all there was left for me to do. Or so I thought…

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The minute they walked out the door, I broke down. Tears. Shaking, sobbing tears. Not for me. For them. That motherly feeling of helplessness. Ugh. I wanted Gregger. Why wasn’t he here? I  needed him. To talk to. To hold my hand. To lay my head on his shoulder. To tell me everything would be okay. But he wasn’t. So there I was. Alone. I couldn’t share this with anyone. Silent. Secrets. Stress overload. And a total game of wait and see.

To be continued…

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Moving On…The Tough Days

Moving On…The Tough Days

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

moving on 2Moving on. I thought it would get easier. It didn’t. I slipped. I skidded. I stopped. I shut down. And I just couldn’t write anymore.Thoughts would spin inside my head, but they wouldn’t reach my fingertips. They stopped. Somewhere. Jumbled.  I was too empty. Too lonely. Too alone. Stress was pulling me down. And I had nowhere to go. I kept reaching for Gregger. But he wasn’t there. And I realized he never would be. Ever again. The finality of it all. Scary. Sad. Detached. Should I share that raw emotion? People saw me as strong. Brave. Overcoming the worst of the worst. How could I go backwards? So I shut down. I buried myself inside my head.

I found solace in the space of my car. Music. Special songs. And I remembered. Tears would roll down my cheeks. Sometimes I’d sob uncontrollably. But it was my safe haven. Every morning. And then I’d walk into one of my “happy places” to work out. The tears were replaced by a smile. Fake? Maybe. I put on my “happy face.” No one knew. No one knew what was brewing inside. The turmoil. The heartache. The pain. I learned I could turn it on. And turn it off. I could allow myself to be sad. And then give myself space to be happy. It worked. I wasn’t burying emotions. I wasn’t hiding from them. I wasn’t burdening anyone. I was carrying the weight. But then I was letting it go. It wasn’t always easy, but, for the time being, it worked. And I hung on.  moving on 3

I just felt so stuck. I moved through the motions. I woke up. Got ready. Took care of puppy, Angel. Worked out. Incessantly. Ran errands. Came home. Watched TV. Stupid shows. Went to bed. Woke up. Repeated. Over and over. Again and again. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t do anything that required brain function. Concentration. Didn’t work. I was stuck. So I shut down. This was where I stayed for quite a while, until…

to be continued…

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Celebration and Survival

Celebration and Survival

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

”The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly.”

life is a giftThe days and weeks leading up to August 30th were tense. 2 years. You’d think it’d be easier. No. I was anxious. Emotional. Restless. Stressed. My stomach was in knots. My body ached. Anticipation. It does all kinds of crazy things. The BIG day. What would I feel? Would I break down? Could I handle it? AGAIN? The rush of memories. The flashes. Ugh. I just wanted to close my eyes. Wake up on August 31st. But that wasn’t real. That was an escape. And as others told me, the anticipation was far worse than the reality. So true. I survived. Survived. Celebrated. And realized it was all okay. Another year. We made it.

We celebrated what was. Celebrated what was to be. But, most of all, celebrated the day. The now. The being together. The present. That’s what mattered. Family. Sharing. Love. Gregger was with us. He always will be. We saw him in the clouds. We heard him in the ocean waves. We saw signs. We knew. And we smiled. A celebration of life. And all the beautiful gifts he gave to us. His legacy. Be kind. Be compassionate. Be patient. Be forgiving. And, most of all, love with all your heart. So we remember. And carry on…

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Gregger Pitti-Uomo-June-14-606

Here We Go…Year 3

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

gregger 1c

Dear Gregger,

Two years. Is that even possible? It seems like the blink of an eye. And then it seems like an eternity. So much has changed. So much has stayed the same. The one constant. You aren’t here. And I miss you as much as the day you left this earth. My heart still aches. I thought it would get easier. But here’s the thing. It doesn’t. I keep going. I live. Parts of me are even happy at times. But I’m empty. My soul is empty. I just can’t fill that void. I don’t know that I ever will.

I haven’t written for a long time. It was too hard. Too sad. I didn’t want to expose myself. It was easier to hide. Smile. Pretend. And cry behind closed doors. Everyone has their cards. Their issues. Their crap. So mine is mine. I own it. How was this year different? Reality hit. You weren’t coming back. No more celebrations. No more hugs. No more holding hands. No more conversations. The first year? I muddled through the motions. Made changes. Adapted. Held on. But now? Time just passes. Days blend into each other. And then what? Where do I go from here? I don’t know. I feel stuck. My life was with you. My feet were planted. Grounded. And now they’re not. I’m drifting. And I want my feet back on the ground. gregger 1b

The move was good. Some thought I did it too soon. No. It was good for me. It was right. No regrets. I’m growing. I’m learning. I’m building. But it’s slow and steady. You gave me the framework. And I’m so grateful. I’d be flat on my face without that. I’m not. I’m standing. I’m strong. Stronger than I ever believed I could be. Thank you. But year two. It’s been a struggle. Stress. Sickness. Anxiety. Loss. Without you. Alone. That’s a mountain to climb. But I’ve survived. That is success.  

Year three? Who knows. I believe it’s a year of Hope. Happiness. Rebirth. And lots of love. For this family. We are ready. Arms open. Bring it on.

But for today, August 30th, we remember. We remember the loss. The love. And you. A beautiful blessing to all of us. We honor you. The incredible man you were. Husband. Father. Son. Brother. Friend. Humanitarian. The best of the best. Your smile. Your kind, giving heart. Your gentle soul. Forever missed. Forever loved. Forever etched in our memories.

Pitti Uomo June 14' 606

Gregger. 

02.05.1954 – 08.30.2014.

One Step Forward

One Step Forward

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

happy people 5So my blogs have been all over the place lately. I’ve been up, down, over, under, and sideways. I’ve wanted to write and then I’m blocked. The words just don’t come. Or the ones that do, I don’t like. I don’t like what’s on the paper. I write. I delete. And I end up with a blank page. For weeks, maybe longer, it felt negative. Sad. I couldn’t put that out there. Not after I had spent more than a year writing about gratitude, positivity, strength. I felt like a liar. I wasn’t living my words. I knew that was okay. But it felt weak. I wrote about fear. All true. Part of the journey. But in the past week I’ve tried to refocus my energy. My thoughts. My intentions. Numerous, yet unrelated events have led me to this place. I believe the universe keeps putting “things” in my path. Reminders. People. Signs. Whatever these “things” are, they are bringing me back. Back to a better place. A place of peace. Within myself.  present

This past week Facebook sent me a beautiful reminder of the blessings and joyous moments in my life. Three years, five years, seven years ago. Love. Family. Together. Celebrations. Travel. So blessed. Memories that evoke smiles. Heartwarming hugs from the inside out. Instead of missing what I don’t have, I’m focusing on what I did have. How lucky I was. These are the gifts that keep on giving. I can pull them from my memory bank. Spark a smile. A warm fuzzy feeling.

story 2I am reminding myself why I started writing in the first place. Honor Gregger’s memory. Our life together. And to help me move on. So I’ve been stuck. It’s part of the journey. I will get stuck again. I’m sure of it. But I’m learning. Accepting. Not getting caught up. Not thinking “failure.” It’s okay. It’s life. And tomorrow’s another day. Another day to get it right. Or just do it another way. Whatever works. Just try.

I’ve met so many along this journey. Everyone has a story. Something. You never know the life a person has lived until you are in their shoes. Never judge. You never know their pain. Or their sadness. Smile at them. Talk to them. You never know how a kind word can brighten someone’s day. So many strangers have brightened mine. And I hope I’ve returned the favor without even knowing. But these stories opened my eyes. I’m not alone. So I can grieve. I can be sad. But I can also be happy. Move on. And focus on today. Because I can’t change the past. I can’t control the future. I can only be in the moment. And make the best of whatever that happens to be. So for today, I’ll make it a good one. I hope you do too. Happy Sunday! 

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grief journey

The Grief Journey

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

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

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

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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forgiveness

Forgiveness…An Act of Self-Love

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

forgiveness 3I was watching “Grey’s Anatomy” last night. Tearjerker. Life threatened. Heartache. And pain. Some may think it sappy. Overdone. Washed up. But the message was strong. Forgiveness. Of others. Those who hurt us. And ourselves. While Meredith was struggling to survive and overcome devastating injuries, she was faced with a greater battle. Forgive those who had beaten her. Left her. Hurt her. Anger is easier. Hate is simpler. Forgiveness is hard. But in the end, the one who doesn’t forgive is the loser. 

forgiveness 1Her beloved Derek had died last season. Unexpectedly. Before his time. Before “their” time.  She went back to life. But the anger flared. I understand. Webber advised her to forgive herself. She was angry.  At Derek. Not just for dying. But for dying too soon. Leaving her. Alone. I got it. The pain. The anger. The hurt. Tears streamed down my cheeks. It was as if he were talking to me. Through the airwaves. I am still mad at Gregger. How dare he? We had a whole life to live. Plans. Travel. A life to spend together. We were just getting started. And he cheated me. I don’t say that often. I am strong. Right? But maybe I’m not. I don’t say this often enough. And maybe I should. Maybe it’s the way to move on. Because lately, I just feel stuck. Maybe I need to forgive myself for being angry at him. For leaving me way too soon. And he did. I still go to the “what if’s.” I know I shouldn’t. But I do. What if we had gone on vacation somewhere else? What if he hadn’t gone snorkeling that day? What if I had made him walk with me on the beach instead? What if? What if? What if? I beat myself. Over and over and over again. But forgiveness is the key. I can’t go back. I know that. My brain knows that. But my heart isn’t there yet. They need to catch up. With each other.

forgivenessSo as sappy as it may be, thank you “Grey’s.” Thank you for the reminder. Forgiveness. I need to forgive, to let go. To move on. To live. Really live. Not in the past. The present. And I know that’s where Gregger would want me to be. So for today and tomorrow and I will…

  1. Release the guilt. Let it fly. It’s a heavy weight holding me down.
  2. Focus on the joy. The memories. The happy times.
  3. And recognize that letting go of hurt does not diminish my love for Gregger. Choosing to live, laugh and love again does not mean I love him any less. It may even mean I love him more. Because my heart is free. Of pain. Guilt. Anger. Hurt. Free to feel. Once again.

“Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.”

I am ready to enlarge my future. So for today, I forgive. Me.

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