My Moms 9 Month Mark

So, today marks 9 months since I lost my Dad. It's my Moms 9 month mark in this new life without him so I felt the need to look and see where I was at 9 months. Maybe I will be able to support her better if I can somehow understand where she might be. This is where I was- deep in the throws of learning from loss. Was it Sudden, was written while I was trying to understand why we ask what we do and, I see now, it sounds quite cynical. I really wasn't angry but I was learning.

While my husband fought a mysterious illness for his last year, my Dad was taken out of nowhere. It was sudden. Sudden vs. not sudden should not be looked at as better or worse but just a very different experience. My Dad's last year of life was a good one. He wasn't facing a health crisis, loved his dog as much as his kids (ok, that might be a stretch but not much), took fabulous vacations with his absolute best friend in the world, my Mom, enjoyed all three of his granddaughters and visited his Mom frequently. It was good and I am so so thankful for that.  So we didn't have months of constant heartache and painful uncertainty as we did with Reid- it still makes me sad that his last few months were like that. But the "sudden" end of my Dads presence added a different element to the grief journey.  There's this level of disbelief that takes your breath away. You find yourself forgetting it is real before that cruel reality wave hits and reminds you. This is still true 9 months later.

There's no measure of more or less painful when it comes to grief, but I haven't always known that. Understanding that it all hurts bad and how it can be so different is valuable in my ability to be a supportive friend, daughter, sister and mother.

Today, I am thankful he had this moment but he is so very missed. I think I'll call my Mom.

Finding the Thanks in Thanksgiving

I have friend whose daughter is fighting cancer. Wow, what a dark way to start a 'finding thanks' post but hear me out. She found a fantastic story comparing cancer to being chased by a mountain lion. In that story she says "Then, you see somebody being chased by a mountain lion the size of a monster truck....." and describes how thankful you are that is NOT your mountain lion.

"You don't have to look very far to find somebody worse off than you are". Even when hope was fading, Reid would find a situation that would bring him back to that place.

Why is this perspective so moving?
1. We are inspired by people who can find light in the darkest times.
2. Gratitude is simply a better place to be.

There are plenty of hospital stays, anniversaries of this and that, health crisis' and waves of grief.. plenty of opportunities for us to experience the very normal feeling of  anger about the hand we are dealt. It's a natural place to go and sometimes we absolutely need to be in that anger and sadness....but we can't stay there. They don't want us to.

To the parents with the courageous kid fighting cancer, she doesn't want you to stay there.
To those longing for their parents, they don't want you to stay there.
Reid once told me "I'm not afraid to die. I'm afraid of leaving you.". If I stay there, I am living out his biggest fear and I cannot do that. He doesn't want me to.

Easier said than done? Yes and no.

I believe that Reid's quote and the Mountain Lion are both strategies to keep us from getting lost in the dark places. They are tools to help us find gratitude because it is a healing place we need to be. Gratitude is so important to us we have an entire day.....weekend....to dedicate to being Thankful. Of course, there is all kinds of history but really, today,  it's about thanks. We simply share food, fun, time and joy with those closest to us. Some play football- some watch it. Some go shopping- some don't. Some travel far to get there- more on that Wednesday than ANY other day. Many of us get a 4 day weekend-the only one of the entire year. We don't exchange gifts. We don't hide candy or hope for a giant bunny or a jolly man to stop by. There are no fireworks and no leprechauns. No. We give and experience thanks for each other in our own way. That's all.

This can be a challenge for those in the midst of crisis or loss but it can also be an opportunity to have a day free of the darker place. The effort is so very worth it and so are you.

Hope is a Gift

"I don't want her to get her hopes up."- I think of how many times I have said and heard that phrase. I am much more selective in how/if I use it now.

I look back on our last year and think of how hope got us through everything. It gave us something to look forward to, to plan for.....to hope for. What a gift. It is not until your mind, body, heart, God...whatever your beliefs....not until you are ready to accept a situation of no hope that you do. That moment, too, comes with a grief of it's own that some need to endure for so long- unimaginable. On his last day, it was time. It was time for me to accept this situation of no hope. It was time for those he held so close to say good bye to him ..........and to their hope for him.

Dr. Laura talked to my girls for me. I was busy keeping Nurse Laura on the pain treatment and, as Wife Laura, giving him love and permission. Dr. Laura gave my youngest the facts. She was barely 13 years old. She was about to lose the man who jumped on a plane with his brother 10 years prior to pluck her out China and complete our family. She wasn't thinking of this. That was my job and I was. How unfair to only have a Dad for 10 years yet, how fortunate it was him.

Her young mind wasn't ready to accept this and really that was ok- it was taking care of her. Her aunt, Katie, asked how she was doing. Her wicked smart mind, that was not yet ready, responded. "Well, I still have a little tiny bit of hope. I have one cell of hope. Actually, an electron, which doesn't have any mass so not alot of hope but it's there."

Let them keep their hopes up as they need to. It's a gift and it will be gone...... when it's time.

Words, tools, coffee and basic knowledge

The loss of the life you once had is so painful and death might not be the only way you got here. So, while much of what I talk about is how I am surviving the loss of Reid, I think it can be applied in other times when you are just trying to figure out how to help a friend. 

Some of the biggest help came from the smallest things or even just words. 

"Can I come walk your dog?”

My friend, Trevor, would randomly shoot me a text to see if he could walk my dog. I didn't take him on it but it's a great tip. The responsibilities keep on coming, including walking the dog. Not only was this a reminder that my friends think of me, but it's a great thing to offer up when somebody is traveling through tragedy. Offer it. 

"I am on my way to fill up your propane tanks”

Reid's brother, Larry, would pick up some of the things that Reid did but also show me how to do them. He knows that we grill nearly every night and I wasn't even sure how to get the propane tank off. He didn't ask if I needed them filled- he told me he was filling them and where he was going to do that. There are lots of new things on your plate after such a change. They may be small things, simple things but all together it can be overwhelming. 

"I'm coming across the bridge to have coffee with you."
My kindergarten bestie, Kristen, and I went and had coffee. We didn't talk about health. She didn't need a death certificate (those things are in high demand!). She didn't ask about his ashes. I didn't cry. Nope. We just went out for coffee, took a selfie, smiled and talked about anything I wanted to talk about. It's refreshing to just be. Get coffee.

"I think of you much more than I talk to you”

Don't underestimate the power of just letting somebody know you are thinking of them. It's huge. 

"Donating blood in memory of Reid"

I haven't seen Leah in 30 years at least. We went to middle school and high school together and are facebook friends but are otherwise not in each other's lives. She gives blood as often as she can and often posts 'in memory of Reid' on facebook. She never met Reid. The post makes my day every time. How thoughtful. What an impact. 

"I wanted to surprise you and take care of this annoying cable to your house”

My cousin, Brian, saw this annoying old land line cable that hung very low across my front yard. I hated it and, apparently, so did he. Because of his work, he had the tools to get rid of it for me. Didn't ask if he could but just did it. I was so so happy!! I still love that I don't have to look at that thing every day. What might just be everyday work to you could make a big change for somebody else. Use your tools. 

"Thank you, Mom, for all you do for us.”. 

 Can't we all benefit from this message from time to time? 

"You're RXing this shit out of this life"

Jenn is part of my crossfit crazies that had a huge impact on my survival. I could go there to escape my reality and everybody would let me. It really is worthy of it's own post. Anyway, it was really really hard to get there. EVERYTHING is really really hard to do in this new life. When somebody recognizes that you are working hard and getting things done when you feel like you are barely breathing and doing a fraction of what you once did....it's big. It made me think "yeah, you're right- I am!" and we need to talk to ourselves like that more often. 

This is just a small sample of what I have learned. There is so much more.

Now We Cook

One of my favorite stories of support came from one of my best friends, Lori. When we moved into the house across the street from her, never did I imagine just how close our families would become. Her son, Blair, and our daughter, Sydney, were just 9 years old then with little in common. When they were seniors in high school, they went to the prom together- I couldn't have written that story any better. They were still dating at the time she lost her Dad. They were 21 years old. Reid's last day was a flurry of texts and calls as Blair wanted to do whatever he could to support our sweet Syd on this, her worst day. When he got the news that Reid was gone, he turned to his Mom and asked "What do we do now?". The sincerity in his question warms my heart still. She responded-
"Now? Now we cook"

Advice- Take a Trip

My friend, Heidi, told me to take a trip. She was a few years ahead of me in her journey so, while I thought it seemed a little crazy, I listened. Take a trip? A little vacation? Are you out of your mind? I had no time for that and my energy was completely consumed with all of this. But then, the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Reid and I had planned to go to Chicago in August. The company I work for is headquartered there (adding to the affordability) and I had a good friend from Virginia who would also be in Chicago during that time with his family. Jeff was actually my boss but I frequently forgot that during Reid's health crisis. He was a good friend and a trusted point person during the previous year. 

Anyway, I digress. We had those plans and, well, we know how that story went. Plans change. But Jeff and his family were still going to be in Chicago for the month. I still worked there. My girls and I still needed to escape. 

So we did.. 

Being on the plane with Xia stirred up an unexpected positive emotion. It's about time- surprise waves of tears were getting old. Sydney would arrive the next day and the Webster Girls adventure would begin. This was kind of a victory that we have gotten to this point and worth celebrating.

We walked, kayaked, ate and laughed. The girls explored the magnificent mile completely on their own- oh, the independence they felt! What did we not do? "Oh, last time we ate here we were with Dad" because Dad had never been to Chicago. That was a critical piece here. This was a brand new memory in our new life and it would have been a COMPLETELY different experience for us had we been there before as a family of four.  

The other saving grace was Jeff and his family. I was able to go to work while his wife, Michelle, and their kids took Xia around the city. Sydney had to head back early for her work. Not sure Xia was completely on board but this was going to work and did. She could be with people who were not talking about loss, they weren't crying, they weren't constantly asking if she was ok- she was just a 13 year old exploring a new city with some new friends. Their family is forever a part of our history.

My advice-

1. Get away or encourage a get-away if you are support rather than the lead role. 
2. When? When you're ready but push yourself or it will never happen. 
3. Don't break the bank. Budget friendly can still be grief friendly.
4. Where? Somewhere new...completely new. In my opinion, this is a game changer. 
5. Who? Include others....or don't! It's a difficult time to let somebody in. Do what works for you.

The week was impactful. I took lots of pictures and captured those memories in a book. Actually, three books- one of each of us in our family..........of three.

My First Words of Advice- Day 6

Nearly one week after Alisa's loss, I sent her the following message about what her friend is likely feeling. I knew while I was writing it, this is what I needed to do.

"In this 6th day of her new life, she is almost to a major milestone- 1 week. She has had many small firsts already that many on the outside might not even see. She has possibly already developed new habits she doesn’t yet know about. I still sleep on his side of the bed. Not necessarily to be closer to him but, when I sleep on my side- the familiar side..my ‘old life’ side, the void is HUGE. And I learned he had the better side anyway. :)

She has possibly stepped out into the world on her own, the grocery store, the gas station, a walk, a movie...something that has exposed to her all of this fast moving life that everybody is living while hers seemed to have paused-yet it can’t. The first week, that might have been the first time I exhaled. Every Wednesday will be the reminder for a while- either a cruel anniversary or a milestone she has made it to. Mine were Thursdays.

She will graduate from Wednesday's, whenever her graduation day might be, and they will be less consuming. Then it will be the 1st of the month. I don’t know when she will graduate from that one- I haven’t yet. Today is my 16 “7th of the month” and I am feeling better about my progress but continue to be surprised by the intensity of all of this. I remember desperately wanting to fast forward months. Of course you can’t but, even if she could, she has to go through this transformation and sadly, it can’t be rushed. I tried to rush it. Fail.

I can make no promises about her journey and nobody can tell her how she “should” deal with it. I can promise she is forever changed. Don’t let anybody tell her “it never gets easier”. Cruelest thing I ever heard. “I am paralyzed in grief right now and you are telling me it never gets easier?!”. It does. His absence and the loss never ever ever goes way but your ability to live and breath through it will happen. I can promise that. Tomorrow will be her first week. First major milestone. She will be ok.

I promise."

My purpose

I have documented much of my healing in a journal and through social media. I am so happy that I did as I hardly remember some of those early days in this new life. I was often encouraged to, and wanted to, write a book or a blog or something. But what would I write about? Just keep sharing my fantastic love story? Really? Or should I share how terrible it is to lose a spouse? I'm not the first one to have done it- what good does that really do anyway? Maybe about kidney or bone marrow failure- not exactly inspirational either.

 Then, October 28th, 2017 I got a voice mail from a very close friend, Alisa. Her friends husband was in the hospital in ICU. He has some kind of infection, is on a respirator, dialysis machine......I don't even remember the rest. Hearing this and visualizing this situation launched me right back to July 7, 2016. The day in my life that looked exactly like the one Alisa is describing. We texted back and forth for several days- his last days. I was putting all of my knowledge of platelet counts and creatinine levels to good use but I knew....I knew what she was in for. And, I knew my purpose for writing- maybe I could help the Alisa's out there who are desperately trying to help their friends through unimaginable circumstances.

When they had to make that horrible decision to turn off the machines, I sent her the following. This is what I am meant to do with this experience.


 

Emotional Injury

This time of year is harder than I imagined. But, I am happy I took the time to write things down and remember the hope we had- so so thankful we had hope.

I want to shift my attention for a minute to a recent experience I had at faithRX. I have only been there once but do intend to go there again. The discussion was around injuries and how we handle them, or ignore them, and how we recover from them. Then he talked about relationship injuries. Hearing everybody’s description of how that feels and how we recover and the challenges…..it came to me.

Grief is an emotional injury.

I had never been able to put this experience into words until that moment. The symptoms were so similar to the injuries everybody was describing. Then, as we were sitting in small group discussions, the question was about the challenges after your physical or relationship injury. Max said “getting yourself back out there”. It seriously nearly brought me to tears- it would have actually if I didn’t fight them so hard. This makes so much sense! If I had treated this like an injury from the beginning, would I be further along in my recovery? It doesn’t matter, I need to treat it as one now. It’s a life long injury and I need to treat it as that.

It also made me realize how to talk to others who have been through an emotional injury. I mean, if somebody was in an accident and would never be able to walk again, you would never ever think of saying “it never gets easier”. So, why why why, when I find I will never be his wife again do people think it is ok to say that. It’s not ok and is quite terrifying. Of course I will always always wish he was with me just like the person in the wheelchair will always always wish they could walk. But learning to navigate this new world as a widow, or this life with no legs….learning to work with it- that does get easier.

Part of this year has been wanting proof that he is “out there”. No matter how powerful the signs are that I have seen- I continue to hunt for proof. This was a huge revelation to me and, if I ever write a book, Emotional Injury will be the theme. This changed me.

Anniversary Posting- 6 Months

I remember sitting on the kitchen counter telling my Mom that I just wanted to fall asleep and wake up 6 months later. I couldn’t go through this awake.

I remember Lori telling that I would regret that and Heidi encouraging me to feel everything. Here I am, the 6 month mark. I wish more than anything I could change the way things are but am thankful I stayed awake.

I have learned more in this time than I could ever imagine. I learned that I never ever understood what many of my friends and family went through in their loss-I admire their strength now more than before, much more. I learned I have the bravest daughters on this Earth. I have learned about  friendship. I learned you can’t rush healing- tried unsuccessfully at times. I had to dig extra deep this morning and did- I had help and have learned at times I desperately need it. I have learned that I have strength.

I have learned from loss, grown through grief more than I ever thought possible. I feel like I want to do something with all of this….whatever “this” is. Today, I continue living….really living…..this short life.

Anniversary posting-4 Months

4 months. Of course, my mind is consumed with him today as I sit here in the Seattle airport returning from Sam and Jeff’s house in Hawaii. It was a wonderful get away and an important milestone. I am learning on these anniversary dates to write about or talk about great memories.

Today, combined with the season, reminds me of a great page in our story. It must have been early summer of 1992. Reid was in Alaska where he was a halibut fishing guide by day and a chef by night. I was working at the Buzzsaw in Albany and had one more quarter left at Willamette University. I picked this summer to grow my first garden. We were writing letters back and forth. The kind you write with pen and paper and drop in the mailbox and days later start thinking “I bet he gets my letter today” and imagine the words making him smile. I would also check the mailbox daily for my handwritten note. I would grab my letter, go into the house, pour a cup of coffee and get comfortable to read it-typically many many times. One day, I read- “So, I hear that Jeff Hornacek proposed to his wife by carving it in a pumpkin. Farmer Laura, do you have any pumpkins in that new garden of yours?”.

I promptly planted pumpkins.

Write it down

I have found myself over the last month replaying his last days over and over in my head. I feel like I don't want to forget anything...our last this...our last that. I feel like my body is helping me by replaying the week…...but it’s consuming my mind. I want to enjoy my girls, my family, my friends and share our story….not the story of how it ends but the story of how it was lived. The magic of our 23 years, 2 months and 19 ½ days. I can’t do that if I am not free to be free of his final days.

It also occurred to me that some of his “lasts” were some of his favorite so I thought I better capture them before I forget. It gives me comfort knowing this.

• Our last restaurant: Ox
• Last restaurant with best friend (Riesens): Mexican food (totally by accident but that is his favorite!!)
• Last home cooked meal: Lamb Chops
• Last home visitors: Ryan and Katie (delivering low sodium turkey sandwiches)
• Last TV show: Olympic Trials.
• Last glass of wine: Heitz Cabernet (Though the Zin is where we first fell in love with Heitz back when they were just a small shack in Napa- it's still delicious)
• Last beer: Rainier no doubt
• Last gift received: popcorn
• Last phone call (excluding nephrologist, hematologist and pharmacist)- Brother Dave

This is what I would share with anybody going through tragic times. For me, writing is therapeutic and I know that isn't the case for everybody. So, if that is you or somebody you are trying to help, then just write to document. If something is constantly replaying in your mind, pause and write it down. It really does seem to give you 'permission' to stop replaying it. Personally, I documented each day of our final week. As sad as it sounds, it really isn't. It reminds me of how much hope we still had. How many people were supporting us and still do.