Getting through this one day at a time…
Giveaway ends March 31, 2024.
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Chapters 1-5
I am working on finalizing my manuscript. I thought it would be good to post the early chapters as I go along. This will be edited later but I don’t have a copy editor so I welcome any and all feedback! With the exception of quotes and excerpts from text messages, all writing is my own.
There’s always awkwardness when people find out I was widowed. I never like making people uncomfortable, so I usually rush through the explanation and wrap it up neatly. I’m doing good now. I’m remarried. I’m happy. Seven years later, a degree and license in counseling, and I am still following societal norms. Let’s pretend that grief doesn’t exist.
This was not the first death in my life. I’ve lost all of my grandparents, my Aunt Terry, my Uncle Joe, and my nephew Max who only lived for a few minutes. On Patrick’s side, we lost Zia Sue, Nona, Opa and Elsie, Danielle, Ryan, Zia Jan, Zia Glenda, Tony, Barbara, and Zio Angelo. Some of these were sudden and tragic, and they all affected me profoundly. So I thought I understood grief pretty well… until I lost Patrick.
I feel it’s important to acknowledge the depths of grief and the path through them. This is something that I have consistently downplayed because heaven forbid anyone should think I’m not okay. I’m tough. Don’t worry about me.
The truth is, I am human, and I have no clue how I survived the loss of my husband, Patrick. But I did. If you are experiencing the death of a loved one, I hope my story shows you that there can be a light at the end of the tunnel and a new path for you.
I want to share my experience so far in the hopes that it might help people when they interact with someone who has experienced loss.
Imagine that you are taking a walk. The weather is mostly perfect, and the scenery is beautiful. As you walk, you are holding the hand of the person you most want to walk this path with. Occasionally there is a hill, and sometimes you stumble, but your partner is always right there to help you. You carry many memories with you, and in the distance, you can see many places that you want to go, and you anticipate these experiences with excitement. You have the path memorized, and you know exactly how to get where you want to go.
Suddenly there is an earthquake worse than you ever imagined. A huge chasm opens up in the path in front of you. You feel your partner slipping, and suddenly they have disappeared. The destruction is so great that you can no longer see your future path. The experiences you had dreamed of are no longer possible.
At first, you feel like jumping into the chasm and looking for your lost dreams. You don’t really see any other option. Moving forward alone is unthinkable. Suddenly you see that there is another path leading away from the chasm.
This path has not been used as often, and it is not as easy to navigate. Sometimes you need help clearing the way. Parts of the path seem dangerous and frightening, and the chasm always seems to be nearby.
As you make your way, you start to notice that there are some interesting things ahead. There are other people traveling the path, and you begin to enjoy their company. They help to clear the path and point out destinations that you didn’t realize were there. This is a much different path than you had planned. You haven’t forgotten about your missing partner or the plans you had with them, but you realize that they would be happy that you found this new path and would want you to continue on.
I wrote this on the one-year anniversary of my husband Patrick’s death. I am now on a completely different path that I did not choose, but it is not as awful and scary as I thought it would be. There have been new dreams and hopes for the future. I feel that Patrick walks this path with me and helps steer me in the right direction. He can no longer hold my hand, but he still keeps me from falling.
April 20, 2016, started differently. I woke up around 6:45 AM to a silent house. My husband, Patrick, ran or rode his bicycle every morning before work. Patrick was very dedicated to staying physically fit. He would be the first to tell you that he didn’t particularly love working out but did it anyway. When he graduated from PT School, he gave a graduation speech, and it was about the importance of staying physically fit. I am hoping that someday I will find a copy of that speech!
He did some type of workout almost every day of the week and frequently did more than one. Each weekday morning, he would either run, lift weights in the garage, or ride his bike out Shaw Avenue to Quail Lakes, do a lap or two, and then return home. I am not much of a morning person, so it was not uncommon for me to sleep through his entire workout. He would usually wake up at 5:30 AM and finish by 6:45 AM. He left while I was still sleeping. I would occasionally wake up briefly, but sometimes I slept through it entirely. I thought it was odd that he wasn’t home, but I had a conference call at 7:00 and needed to prepare for it.
I was a Plan Sponsor Liaison at Aetna. I worked with our sales and marketing team and multiple National Account customers. I had worked at Aetna for over 21 years, the last year or so from home, and I loved being able to work at home. I quickly changed into my day pajamas; Capri-length black sweatpants with a stripe down the side, a sports bra, and a t-shirt. I ran into the loft, turned my computer on, and then asked my 17-year-old Daughter, Camille, to check the garage to see if her dad’s bike was there. And then I dialed into my call.
Camille went downstairs and returned a few minutes later to tell me the bike was gone. Ugh. He was very proud of his old, beat-up bike. I don’t remember when he bought it, but it could have been in the mid to late ’90s. I was sure I would have to get off my call and rescue him from a flat tire. My customer would probably be okay with my absence, but I worried the sales team would be annoyed. I could ask Camille, but she needed to get to school.
I waited until 7:10 and then sent an IM to my account manager to tell her I had a family emergency and needed to step away. I got in my car, which luckily already had the bike rack, and headed out to his usual route. I imagined him walking along the side of the road. He probably didn’t have his phone. He was invincible. Why would he need a phone or any identification?
Patrick was 49 and one week. We celebrated his birthday exactly one week before at the Paul McCartney concert. I had surprised him with tickets and then decided the girls should go too and bought two additional seats in another part of the arena. We had a fabulous time, and I was thrilled I had splurged on the tickets!
Patrick was a physical therapist and was very dedicated to staying physically fit. He was also frugal and stubborn. His bike was ancient, and he considered himself an anti-cyclist, refusing to wear the usual cycling gear. I had a road bike and frequently extolled the virtues of cycling and the benefits of getting a fancier bike, but he wouldn’t have it. He made fun of the cycling kits the serious cyclists wore and prided himself on wearing the most beat-up clothes he owned when riding. He had a cyclist’s body, and I liked to imagine how great he would look in cycling shorts with a tight jersey, but he refused.
On one of the few occasions when he did a ride with me and some of my cyclist friends, I could only imagine what they thought when he pulled up on that beater bike. But he could keep up with them and climb a hill as if on a lightweight road cycle. He did carry a saddle bag with tools and was usually able to repair a flat, but who knew what kind of mechanical trouble the bike might have?
I knew the main route Patrick would have taken. He might have taken a couple of ways to get to the main road, Shaw Avenue, so I guessed and chose Locan Avenue. I didn’t see him there, or when I got to Shaw, so I headed east and scanned the side of the road for a man walking a bike. A fire truck passed me, going in the opposite direction with its lights off. I wasn’t anxious at this point, and I felt the truck would not be driving away if there was an emergency.
We live in Clovis, CA, a constantly growing suburb of Fresno, CA. New housing developments are always popping up, and one or two roads are closed on any given day. I saw the usual flashing signs ahead and assumed the road had been closed due to the new development on the street’s south side. But a small truck was parked there, and someone was beside it. I should investigate.
I pulled over, got out, and walked over to the person, who was a Community Service Officer. I asked her what had happened, and she said there was an accident. I told her my husband was riding his bicycle and asked if I could see if he was there. She told me the crash involved a motorcycle. She even added the sound effect “vroom, vroom” to reassure me. She wouldn’t let me pass.
I returned to my car and then drove past Shaw, trying to think of a way to get closer. Patrick had CPR and first aid certification and would have stopped to render aid. Suddenly I realized this was too big of a coincidence. Patrick wasn’t home, hadn’t contacted me, AND there was an accident. An inner voice told me I needed to go home.
I remember the first time I saw Patrick. I was working as a typist for his cousin, John Prandini, in his physical therapy office, which was inside a local fitness club, Fresno Racquet Time. John is the brother of one of my high school track and cross-country coaches, Carlo Prandini. I knew that one of their cousins was coming to work as a physical therapy aide for the summer, but I guess I thought he would be older. I was in the front lobby, and I saw a guy walking in. He was tall and was dressed in a very 80’s style with light yellow pants, a t-shirt, and suspenders with palm trees on them. He was hot!
I later figured out this was not actually the first time I saw Patrick. Although I went to Clovis High School and he went to Hoover, we both ran track and cross country and would have been at the same meets many times during our high school years. And I once went on a date with one of Patrick’s best friends, John Wright, and Patrick was with him when we met. I often wonder why we couldn’t have met sooner, but I think we met when we were supposed to. We weren’t instantly an item, but by the end of that summer, we had begun our 30-year love story.
As I drove, I called my nephew, Nicholas Campbell, who was a police officer at the time. He said he wasn’t working but agreed to try and get information. A few minutes later, he called back to ask me to describe Patrick’s bike. He mentioned there was an accident, and the rider did not have ID. I told him my husband refused to wear the Road ID I had made for him.
I don’t remember panicking or wondering why they would need ID. Maybe shock had set in? All I knew was Camille would be leaving for school, and I needed to get home before she did. As I walked into the house, I got a breaking news text reading, “Fatal bicycle vs. vehicle accident closes Shaw.” And I knew. I can remember thinking this is what happens when you follow the news too closely. I received notification of death by a news alert. My brain refused to process the news.
I met with a small publisher today. I’ve been wanting to compile my blogs into a book. I definitely have enough material. I just need to decide if I want to spend the time and money to get it done.
Actually, it just occurred to me that if I was led to this publisher. I first met Everett O’Keefe when he sent me a friend request after Patrick died. He went to high school with Pat and has fond memories of him. I’ve never met him in person and I hadn’t spoken to him before today.
A few months after Patrick died I joined a group for widows and I met Leicia Riding. Later I would find out that her husband, John, was also a friend of Everett’s and they wrote their first book together. They were in business together up until the time of John’s death in 2014.
And finally, in 2020 my mom remarried. My new stepfather is Donald Tacchino and he was an English teacher. While visiting him recently, he showed me a book he had received from a former student. The book was The Power of the Published and it was written by, you guessed it, Everett O’Keefe! He let me borrow the book and I scheduled a book consultation as soon as I finished it.
My inspiration
Before Patrick died I read a book called Radical Survivor by Nancy Saltzman. Nancy tragically lost her husband and two sons in a plane crash. I can’t say I enjoyed her story, how can you enjoy someone experiencing that kind of loss? But, it happened. She woke up one morning with a husband and two sons and by the end of the day it was just her. And the next morning? She woke up and moved forward. And she has kept going each day since then. I’m incredibly sad that she had to experience that. At the same time I’m grateful that she found a way to share her story because it gave me a lot of hope. I read several different books by widows but Nancy’s will always be special. She’s my hero.
I eventually reached out to Nancy and she told me about Soaring Spirits International, a great resource and source of support for widows and widowers.
There are many other people who helped me along the way, including friends, family, and strangers whose words I found in books and blogs. I would really like to pay it forward. And, as a Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor, I can now provide additional insight on grief and recovery.
While I am working to organize my story, I thought I would reach out and see if any of you would be willing to share any tips on things that have helped you through your own grief? I would love to include real-life examples of ways that people have handled grief. And if you have any other tips I would also appreciate those! You can either comment on WordPress, Facebook, or Medium. You can also email me directly at danell.tenyenhuis@danellt9.com.
Thanks everyone and stay tuned for more!
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That’s how long Patrick has been gone. Okay, technically it’s 3,155,040 minutes but It was easier to round it down. Either way 3 MILLION conveys the enormity of the loss. On the other hand, if we were together nearly 30 years, he was a part of my life for over 15 MILLION minutes and that’s the important number.
This year has been a little harder for me and I didn’t completely realize it until my friend pointed out the “intense trio of 3 days, his birthday, Easter, and his passing.”
I knew Easter was late this year but I didn’t make the connection that this is the latest it’s been since he died which put it right in the middle of “THE WEEK.” Now that I realize the connection, it makes it a little easier.
For the last two years I have frequently reminded my clients that the pandemic is an added stress. This usually comes up when they are telling me they are having a hard time getting out of a “funk” or they don’t understand why they are so anxious. I feel it is important to recognize when we are under stress. I often hear people say “ I should be able to handle this.” What they mean is “I don’t really have a good reason to be sad or depressed.” I’m here to tell you that A) You don’t need a reason. And B) There may be a reason you haven’t considered.
When I point out a reason someone might be having a difficult time I ask them to give themselves grace. It’s okay to have difficult days. I know April 20th is always going to be hard. I can’t take off work this year because I haven’t accrued time but I made sure my boss knew the significance of the days. And, being a counselor, she made sure to ask me what I need from her. Luckily I have group supervision on Wednesday so I will meet with my boss and 7 other counselors for 2 hours and if I need a little extra love, they’ll be there for me!
I think I’m actually going to be okay. I’ve mentioned previously that I have a friend who is a spiritual medium. I know everyone may not understand or agree with this but it is something that has brought me comfort. And believing that my friend is able to send me messages from Patrick does not diminish my belief in God. I still believe in God and heaven and I believe that it is possible for our loved ones to send us signs after they are gone. And this friend is the one who mentioned the intense trio of 3 days. More on that in a minute.
Yesterday I was briefly put in “Facebook Jail.” I think there may be different levels of jail for Facebook. I was put in jail because my post “went against our community standards on human exploitation.” This decision was reversed a few minutes after I told them they misinterpreted my post and I can no longer see what all of the punishments were but I remember two of them. 1) I could not advertise for 30 days. Um, okay, I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway. And 2) I could not livestream for 30 days (I definitely wouldn’t have been doing that either). I think the last one might have been that I couldn’t request to be added to any groups.
If you didn’t see my post, I will put it at the end of this post. I made the post on Patrick’s birthday and I told a story about the outrageous lighters he ordered days before his death. The lighters shoot flames from an exaggerated male appendage. I was careful not to use the P word but I still got in trouble! I put a picture of the lighters in the comments and mentioned my 18-year-old niece since she was the latest person to find a hidden lighter. Maybe she was the human I was exploiting? Lol
Patrick would have LOVED this story. In fact, I’m fairly certain that the idea that Facebook jail exists might have been enough to get him to create a new account and make it his sole mission to get put in Facebook jail. It saddens me to think of all the entertainment we missed out on!
So, back to the message from my friend. She mentioned that she had a message for me and it’s my understanding that the messages are not always as clear as I would imagine so it sometimes takes a while for her to convey them to me. She’s still working on the whole message but she did tell me that Patrick loved the story and was very happy that his lighters caused problems. This surprises no one!
I guess I should sleep soon. Bruce is out of town tonight so I’m not worried about keeping him awake. Plus, he can sleep through just about anything! Speaking of Bruce, I’m happy to say that I’ve now spent well over a million minutes with him and I’m very grateful for this. He continues to be there for the girls and I. Last week he came with us to spruce up Patrick’s headstone and he ended up in his hands and knees washing it off. I was filled with love as I watched my current husband lovingly clean my late husband’s headstone. I don’t know how I got this lucky twice but I am very grateful. Today will be a little bit easier because he will be by my side. ❤️
Here’s the birthday post:
Happy Birthday in heaven Patrick! ❤️❤️❤️
In honor of his birthday, I have a funny story. Shortly before Patrick died he had bought pipes for Phillip Weathers and Denny Boyles. They were ridiculous looking and one was an actual corn cob pipe! I knew they had arrived but I could never find them. I know they were sitting in boxes on a coffee table and I think the boxes were thrown into recycling during the chaos of that day. I was sad that we never found them but I discovered another surprise while I was looking.
When I pulled up our Amazon order history to confirm we had received the pipes, I saw he had ordered a unique lighter, a little golden man with a very large appendage from which the flame was intended to shoot out! Only Patrick would order something like this! And the shipment hadn’t arrived yet!
The day the box arrived was a difficult day. We had an appointment at the funeral home for a private viewing. Denny drove the girls and I there and I decided I would let him open the box when we got home. He had no idea what to expect but we were all surprised to find not one, but two lighters in the box. We had a good laugh!
We thought about what we would do with the lighters and we decided to share them with each other in the Cranberry Lambic tradition.
Many years ago someone (possibly Dina or Jeff) bought a beer that was called Cranberry Lambic. I’m not a beer drinker and I never tasted it but it is apparently the most foul-tasting beer that exists! Once the first one was drank the purchaser decided they couldn’t finish the rest and decided to “gift” them to others. Over the years the siblings came up with elaborate schemes to sneak the beer to their unsuspecting victims. You might find one in your fridge after guests left. Or maybe it was in the ice chest you carried home after a party. One particularly cruel sibling carefully removed the label and replaced it with a Sierra Nevada label. I believe the rule is that if you start drinking it, you have to finish!
When Patrick died the siblings agreed that it would be fitting to leave a bottle with him to ensure that he was “it”. So now the lighters are passed around and hidden in each other’s houses. Last Friday we had a gathering at Matthew TeNyenhuis’ and Denny mentioned that a lighter might make an appearance. As I left Matt’s house I realized I hadn’t heard if it was left there or not. Apparently Denny carefully opened and resealed a bag of tortilla chips and made sure they were left there. A few days later my 18-year-old niece, Ella TeNyenhuis, had friends over for tacos. So now Ella is it!
I’m so glad that Patrick’s humor has outlasted him! I’ll put a pic of the lighters in the comments!
Twenty eight years ago I was probably laying in bed awake at 2:00 in the morning just like I am now. I’m taking a training class this weekend so I essentially worked 10:00 AM – 9:30 PM and my class is all day the next two days. I need to sleep, so of course, I’m awake.
In 1992, I’m sure I was going through all of the details and worrying about everything going smoothly. And I was also super excited that my wedding day had arrived. We had waited six long years to begin our life together. The day turned out beautifully and was all I had ever hoped for and more! This will be the 4th anniversary without Patrick and I am able to think about it with more smiles than tears.
The other day, I was telling my counselor that it has become harder to write my blog. I will always love Patrick and I also love Bruce. I know it can’t always be easy for Bruce but he never makes it awkward. I know that I don’t have to hold back and I’ve cried in his arms on several occasions. I am so grateful that I was blessed to find love a second time. My counselor encouraged me to keep writing and I’m sure I will.
I can’t think about Patrick without feeling a sense of deep love and gratitude that we were given the gift of two beautiful awesome girls and allowed to be their parents. I am thankful for them every day and it also breaks my heart that he is missing out on everything they’ve accomplished. And they are missing him! As hard as the quarantine has been, I will always remember that it gave me extra time with the girls and allowed us to live as a family for a while. Bruce would never presume to take Patrick’s place but he has found his own place in their hearts. Sometimes I come out of my office at the end of the day and hear the three of them talking and laughing downstairs. How great is that?
I still have days when it feels like no time has passed and the grief feels fresh. I know that my heart has buried some of it to protect me from the pain but it’s still ever-present. Most days my heart allows me to look back on the good times and remember the love. For that, I am grateful!
This is not the pandemic I imagined. Years ago I read The Stand by Stephen King. And I always thought a pandemic would look something like that, with a really high death rate. So in some ways this is a better scenario, but it’s also worse. I never imagined that the whole world could be affected so quickly. And, I never imagined that so much would be shut down.
I’ve tried to do some reading during this. If I read about normal activities like social gatherings or eating out I catch myself wondering how they are able to do that. Has this happened to anyone else? Normal activities seem like such a novelty. And even though it’s only been 5 weeks or so, it feels like it’s been a lot longer.
When this first started, my sister Dawan showed me the Johns Hopkins site with the COVID-19 map. I noticed her taking a screen shot of the numbers so I did too. And then I obsessively kept taking screen shots twice a day. I’m not even completely sure why I did that. My counselor brain says that the whole thing was so unknown that I wanted to find some sort of predictable pattern. I estimated that I took these screen shots for a few weeks but I just looked at the date stamps and it was only 5 days. When I took the first picture, on March 15th, California had 368 confirmed cases and 5 deaths. On March 20th that number had risen to 1,030 confirmed cases and 18 deaths. Four weeks later we are now at 28,157 confirmed cases and 973 deaths. That number will probably increase as I write this. But, it’s actually not as high as I had envisioned and it doesn’t seem to be growing as fast. So, hopefully the social distancing is working.
I’ve been wanting to get back to writing but it’s been difficult to decide exactly what I want to say. When I’m in pain, the words just pour out but now I probably tend to overthink what I’m writing. But I feel that history needs to be recorded so this is my way of documenting what is happening.
This pandemic has effected our society in profound ways. I know we will feel the effects for years and we will probably never return to the “normal” that we used to know. Not to minimize all of this but I have to say that I am extremely grateful for this gift of extra time with Sierra, Camille, and Bethany. Sierra (and her cat Gidget) moved back on March 14th. That same day, Bethany flew home from the Culinary Art Institute in New York. Camille stayed in Davis for a few more days as she studied for finals. But on Monday the 16th I started hearing about the possibility of sheltering in place and I asked Camille to come home. I was so relieved to have them home! Beth splits time between our place and her moms. Since both households take social distancing seriously we feel that is ok. When she is with us we eat WELL! Lately we’ve been getting sourdough bread each day! Last week she made the Disneyland Churro recipe and it was yummy! She also made enough cinnamon rolls to deliver some to my immediate family members. We enjoyed getting out for some social distance visits.
I’m used to getting my girls for long stretches but it’s nice to have them here together. I am just soaking in all the memories and enjoying my time with them. 💕💕 I am especially grateful for the time with Beth. When she graduates we know she will probably not end up in town so this is time we would have never had with her. I’m getting to know her so much better and she and the girls enjoy their time together.
So, for me, the quarantine has had a silver lining. I’m also grateful that Bruce is still employed and I will be again soon. I have one week of class left and then I will apply for registration as an Associate Professional Clinical Counselor (APCC). Once I get my registration number, I will start working for Omega Mental Health as a paid employee! Until then I will continue seeing my clients via Telehealth.
My work has changed in many ways. Telehealth can be impersonal but I am also getting a glimpse into my client’s homes and I think that has been a good thing. The first few weeks we mainly talked about the impact the quarantine had on people and things they could do to decrease anxiety and depression. For some, being isolated has become their number one problem. For others, being quarantined removed a lot of their day to day problems. I think it has been a good learning experience and I do feel that I’m helping.
So, I’m sure you are wondering what I tell my clients. Here is my recipe for improving your mood and decreasing anxiety:
Hang in there!
I’m supposed to be sleeping. I’m supposed to be in a good place. I’m happy and I have an amazing husband. I also apparently have some unresolved grief.
On Sunday, when I saw the breaking news alert about Kobe Bryant, I immediately thought of my good friends Lisa Walthall and Diana Durham. They are both huge Lakers fans and they’ve each taken me to Lakers games. I imagined that it would hit them hard. I enjoy any professional sports but I don’t really follow them a lot. I ran downstairs to tell Bruce the news and then I sat down in front of the TV and obsessively watched the news for hours. And I got sadder and sadder. Sierra texted Camille and I to say “I love you”. I asked if they had heard the news and they had and Sierra said that’s why she had texted. We texted back and forth a bit about how awful it was and then I continued watching the news.
I tend to be a news junkie when something bad happens. I worried that Bruce would think I was obsessed but honestly I WAS obsessed! Who was in the helicopter with him? How many children did he have? Were they with him? at first the news said there were five people. This is going to sound terrible but at one point I thought he had 3 kids. So, if he happened to be the pilot of his helicopter, it was possible he was flying the whole family. So then I was agonizing over whether or not they would all be in there. As horrible as that would have been, it would have meant that no one was left behind. Then I found out he had 4 daughters and I felt sick at the thought that possibly one member of the family was left behind. What if it was a kid? How do you come back from that?
After several hours I started realizing that I had probably watched enough. I was going to turn off the tv but I watched a news conference first. And they said there were 9 people on the plane!!! Once again I obsessed over the possible scenarios, each worse than the others. Finally I turned off the tv, spent time with Bruce and tried to feel better. By then it was evening. I went to bed wondering why this was hitting me so hard.
Once in bed, I still couldn’t sleep. I thought about Nancy Saltzman, who loss her husband and two sons in a plane crash. I credit her book, Radical Survivor, for giving me hope in those early days. I was positive that if I had lost Patrick AND the girls, I would not have wanted to live without them. If Nancy could survive that, surely I could survive losing my husband and still having my daughters.
I checked Nancy’s Facebook page and she hadn’t posted anything but she had shared a post from Michelle Neff Hernandez, who I recognized as the founder of Soaring Spirits International, a support group for widows and widowers. I’m putting a link to the full message below but basically it talked about wondering how Vanessa Bryant was coping and recognizing that some of us have gone through similar losses.
After reading that, everything fell into place. Even though this tragedy was not the exact circumstances, it was close enough to trigger painful memories. I also know I’m not alone, many of my fellow widows and others who have lost loved ones were also feeling incredibly sad.
I drove to work Monday wondering if I was fit to do counseling. I have an ethical duty to monitor my fitness to counsel. I felt ok but I also continued to monitor myself. At one point I talked to my coworker, Andrew, and shared what I was feeling. He validated my feelings and reassured me. That night I talked a bit more about what I had been feeling and Bruce thanked me for sharing and asked how he could help. Did I mention that he is wonderful?
As the week wore on I wasn’t really feeling any better. I talked about it during supervision at work and decided I should probably go back to counseling myself. I’m realizing that there are certain parts of this journey that I have not let myself feel. It’s easy to do. In fact, people told me I was doing it and I really didn’t believe them. Sometimes suppressing feelings is a survival mechanism and I did what I needed to do. But I pushed a lot deep inside me and now it needs to get out.
Last night I was at a low point and I cuddled up with Bruce and told him the story of that day. I thought I had already told him. I thought I talked about it all the time. But apparently I mainly share happy memories. I shared all of the really painful ones and had a good cry. It was a good start to a new journey I have to take. Since I’m a counselor now I’ve decided that this is a learning opportunity for me. I’m going to try a few different approaches and I’m going to try and write more, since that really helps me. As always, thank you to everyone for your support. ❤️❤️❤️
Yesterday I attended a memorial service for my cousin Kimberly Jordan’s step-son, Cody Jordan. He struggled with addiction and his life ended way too soon. I didn’t really know him that well but his death had a huge impact on a lot of people.
After losing Patrick I kind of feel like I’m supposed to be some sort of expert on grief. Especially now that I am doing my counseling internship. At funerals, I want to go up to people and say something comforting. The truth is, there’s really nothing anyone can say to take away the pain. I have learned a few things that help.
Say their name – I know I’ve said this before but it’s worth repeating. I can’t speak for everyone but most grieving people appreciate the acknowledgment that their person existed and is now gone. In fact, at first, it was very odd if I went somewhere and Patrick wasn’t mentioned. I mean, didn’t people realize that I thought about him all day long? Which brings me to the next point…
Bringing it up does NOT remind us that it happened – To me, it sounds crazy even writing that. I don’t think any of us consciously think that but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t guilty of the same thing. “I don’t want to bring up a bad memory”. Trust me, you never forget losing someone. Hearing their name is just acknowledgment that others felt their loss.
Listen – I am learning that allowing someone to talk about their trauma or loss is one of the most effective forms of healing. Death is still such a taboo subject in our society and I think that serves to make grief more isolating. At work and in my personal life, I encourage people to talk about their grief, it’s very healthy.
Keep reaching out but don’t smother – I appreciated people checking on me but also knowing when to give me space. There were many people that let me know they were there for me if needed but sometimes I needed time alone. Balance was good!
Offer or do, don’t ask – We are all guilty of this one… “Please let me know if there is anything I can do”. You will usually never get a response from this, even if there are things you can do, it’s still hard to ask. I really appreciated the people who were in the kitchen washing dishes, getting leaves out of the pool, taking the trash out… If you see something you can do, just do it.
My intent is not to criticize anyone who is guilty of breaking these rules. I’m guilty! But I like to think I do at least a little better now that I know. Hopefully this can be a guide for those who don’t know what to say or do.
The most important thing is, Say their name!
I’ve been impacted by a lot of untimely deaths and I know this is not an all-inclusive list but here are the names I need to say. Feel free to add your own in the comments.
It’s hard to believe I retired from Aetna over 2 1/2 years ago. When you work at a job for over 22 years it becomes a big part of your life. And the people you work with become family. You don’t always realize just how much time you spend together. You take it for granted…
The year 2000 was possibly my best year ever at Aetna. Our Seattle sales team was trying to land a big client, Nordstrom, known for their excellent customer service. Up until that time, in our office at least, claims were handled in one unit and customer service in another. A decision was made to offer Nordstrom a dedicated unit, staffed by service consultants, who would be trained to take calls and process claims. At the time, I was a supervisor of HMO customer service. Nordstrom was being offered HMO in some areas and PPO in others. Before we even won the contract I was promoted to handle the HMO team. Sarah McQuay was fairly new to our office but not to health insurance. She was promoted to lead the PPO team, which was the majority of the business. We hadn’t worked together but we quickly bonded when we found out that the sales team wanted to interview us for the jobs we had already been hired for!
Sarah was the perfect person to lead the Nordstrom team. She was always stylishly dressed and she loved Nordstrom! I’m not sure if I had ever even been in a Nordstrom and I had to step up my game and do some shopping before we met the customer. Luckily Aetna was ultimately selected to be the health insurance carrier for Nordstrom. Sarah and I went to Seattle to meet the HR staff and learn about the Nordstrom culture before training our teams.
Sarah was a lot of fun to travel with and we had a great time sight seeing and shopping, at Nordstrom of course! We felt it was important to dress the part and we found a lot of great deals on the sales racks!
Sarah and I spent four or five years as partners on the Nordstrom account. Our cubicles shared a wall so it was easy to communicate. We were a great team since Sarah was an early bird and arrived at some ungodly hour like 5:30 or 6:00. I rolled in around 9:00 and stayed after she went home. We shared opening and closing duties with the other supervisors but our partnership ensured that I never had to open and she never had to close.
I was Sarah’s personal IT desk and it was fun to help her over the years. Even years later, when I moved to another position, she would call or IM me and I would come help her. If she remembered something I taught her, she made sure I knew and was proud of her!
Sarah loved meeting Patrick and hearing stories about him. In fact, she was privy to a little bit too much information and usually knew things I would not tell others.
Sarah tended to be more of a homebody and usually didn’t socialize outside of work but one year we convinced her to go to the Christmas party and Patrick and I picked her up. We were in our 30’s at the time, with two small children so a night out was a treat! When the party ended we were reluctant to end the night so a group of us decided to go out for drinks. We ended up at the bar in the bowling alley. We had to practically kidnap Sarah to get her to go. Actually I kind of think we DID kidnap her since she really had no choice. There was only one problem, the bar carded everyone and made you leave if you didn’t have an ID. One person in our group had forgotten their ID and it was the oldest person, Sarah! Patrick offered to take her home to get the ID but she was thrilled to have an excuse to leave and no way was she coming back!
Sarah loved birthdays and her team loved her! They always decorated the entire unit and made her feel like a celebrity. One year the theme was her beloved Rod Stewart. Another year it was the academy awards. I managed to find some pictures from her birthday on October 10, 2002 and I’m including them below.
I don’t think I had seen Sarah since we both retired in January 2017. I’ve been told she was devastated about Patrick and was worried about me. I don’t know if she had heard I am getting married but I would have loved for her to meet Bruce, she would have thought he was really cute!
On Friday I was driving near where she lived and thought about calling her but I was going shopping so I decided not to. I had also been thinking about her when Aaron’s name kept popping up as a friend suggestion. I’ve said before that i don’t think those sort of thoughts are a coincidence so next time I’m thinking about an old friend, I’m going to call.
I will miss you Sarah! If I know Patrick, I’m sure he made sure you had a glass of white wine in your hand as soon as you arrived!
A year after Patrick died I wrote about my experience so far. In One Year Later I described what it felt like to be going on a familiar path and then having everything change in the blink of an eye. I tried to describe how, in the midst of so much sadness, there were still moments of unexpected happiness.
As I entered the second year I started thinking about dating. I have to say that I probably had the idea that I would find someone I was comfortable with, who would be a good companion. They might have faults but I would put up with them because I hated being alone. I didn’t even dare to hope that I would actually find someone I could truly love!
Bruce and I met on OK Cupid last August. I don’t remember who contacted the other first but we not swiped right and started talking on Monday, August 13th (Happy Birthday Shayna Danell 😉). Here is one of his profile pics. I love that it says we like each other!
I seem to remember that we switched to phone calls early on, which I really enjoyed. His profile said he lived in Clovis so I asked him what part of town and he told me his cross streets were Ashlan and Locan and those also happen to be my cross streets! 👀 👀 I think I might have actually looked out the window at that point. 😂 Fortunately he wasn’t a stalker and had lived just across Locan from me for the last 4 years. In fact we have lived less than a mile from each other for the last 16 years. Our kids were in different grades but went to all the same schools together! We made plans to go to dinner that Saturday night but as that got closer I suggested that we meet for coffee on Friday. I met him at Starbucks and we were so comfortable that he suggested we go to dinner. He gave me the option of taking separate cars but of course I wanted to ride in his cute little convertible!
The next night he picked me up for the dinner date we had originally planned. Once again, we were enjoying each other’s company so much that we decided to extend the date and go see a movie (Crazy Rich Asians). From that point on we talked multiple times per day and saw each other almost daily, sometimes walking the short distance between our houses. Usually we would meet in the middle.
I want to get this story right so I decided to divide it up into several parts. I will post more tomorrow!