Tag: neverforgotten

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What would Patrick do?

I’m sure I’ve mentioned how much we enjoy imagining how Patrick would react in different situations. He had such a crazy sense of humor and we all knew him so well that it’s not hard to predict how he would react to particular situations. I used to be embarrassed or horrified at his reactions but now I just miss the constant entertainment. Predicting his reaction is my way of keeping his memory alive. The bonus is that it is easier and less painful to smile and laugh than to cry. 

Last summer my sister Dawan suggested we join her family in Catalina for their annual vacation with her husband’s family. It was the kind of distraction we needed last summer and we had a great time. 

We went in the midst of the Pokémon Go craze and we spent a lot of time chasing Pokémon. It helped us work off all of the yummy dinners and snacks. If you’re not familiar with the game, it involves using your smart phone and walking around to find virtual characters and then catch them. I realize that a lot of people thought it was a ridiculous way to spend time, especially for a middle-aged mom like me! I didn’t care because it made me smile!

At some point it occurred to me that Patrick never knew about this game and I mentioned to the girls that he would have had a field day with it. First we would have had a long discussion to explain the game to him. It would be a serious discussion but he would be mocking us the whole time. When he “understood” the game he would probably then suggest that he play it with us. We would remind him for the thousandth time that he did not have a smart phone. He would reply that he had three and then try to get one of us to give him one of those three phones. And there would be no way any of us would let him touch our phones because who knew what he might do with them?!

When he figured out that we weren’t going to give in, he would announce that he could play on his flip phone. Then he would proceed to play an exaggerated version of the game. His version might involve climbing a tree, hopping up and down or using stealth moves. And I’m sure that his version would have special Pokémon that only he could catch. They would have names like alutnarat, booger, and diputs. Or maybe they would be called nystagmus or syncope (two names he actually proposed as baby names). We all had a good laugh imagining his reaction and it made playing the game even more fun!

We just got back from our second trip to Catalina with the Utecht’s and Brandlin’s. This time we added a few teNyenhuis kids to our entourage. Sierra has a “twin” cousin, Dominic. They were born on the same day in the same hospital and Monday was their twenty-first birthday and Catalina was the perfect place to celebrate! We had a great time!


This year was easier than last year. I didn’t seem to notice every single happy couple and I didn’t cry at all. I’m not going to say that I didn’t miss him. I miss him every day and especially when I’m having a great time because he should be there too, right? It’s just a little easier to bear now.

I saw the No Turkeys Allowed sign in Catalina. I think I remember seeing it last year too but it didn’t catch my attention. I happened to be walking by it alone and there were people sitting in the yard it was in. I was almost overcome by a sudden urge to ask them why I couldn’t bring my turkey there. Then I thought of Patrick and I knew he absolutely would have said something. He would have started a crazy rant about discriminating against turkeys. The people would have thought he was crazy. I would have needed to drag him away in embarrassment. I never thought I would miss that but I would give anything for him to annoy me now! He was crazy and unforgettable and that makes it easy for me to imagine him in situations that never happened. He still makes me laugh and laughter is good. ❤️❤️❤️

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It’s not as hard, but it isn’t any easier

May was a crazy, busy month! Awards, graduations, moving Sierra, multiple parties… I’m enjoying the fact that things are a bit slower this week. I was worried that it would be a big let-down but we do have a lot planned for the summer so I have things I am looking forward to.

I have to say that 13 1/2 months later it still doesn’t seem real. Time has definitely passed and there have been a lot of changes but it also seems like I saw him just yesterday. 

Setting goals and making plans seems to help me a lot. I added the girls to my gym membership (Urban Block Fitness) and tomorrow will be day four for them. Camille is probably in the best shape overall so we are kind of getting a kick out of the fact that she is feeling the pain! Like me, she is not used to the type of arm workouts that we do at the gym. She is looking forward to having arm strength! Sierra went with me over spring break and incorporated some of what we did into her workouts so she is not as sore but we are ALL feeling it this week. I missed a lot of workout days in May so I’m making up for lost time!

Tomorrow I also start a new class and for three weeks I’m going to be enrolled in two classes. I’m overlapping the classes so I can take a break for vacation in August. I hope it’s not too much. I guess I still worry that if I put too much on my plate I might fall apart. I don’t think that’s going to happen but I still try to make sure it doesn’t. 

My days are mostly good now unless I think about it too much. There is always going to be this ache deep inside of me. Right now I just can’t allow myself to visit that place very often. I don’t think I’m in denial, more like self-protective mode. The best way to describe where I am now is this, it’s not as hard but it isn’t any easier. I know that’s a contradiction but it just seems to fit the way I feel. 

I put my wedding ring back on for Sierra’s graduation and I can’t get it off now. So I guess I needed to have it on a little bit longer. I imagine Patrick chuckling about that. 

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One year later

Patrick has been gone for 365 days. I’ve only seen him in videos and pictures. Some days it seems like just yesterday and on others it feels like an eternity. I’ve tried to share my journey with others. This is mainly for selfish reasons as I seem to feel much better when I write everything out. But I have also heard that others have found this helpful and that makes me happy.

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’t even see the places you had planned to go. 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. 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. But 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.

That may be a little corny but that is how my life is. 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 are 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.

Over the last year I have met so many wonderful people and became re-acquainted with some old friends. I was able to leave a job that I was burnt out on and embark on a journey toward a new career. The girls and I have spoiled ourselves a bit and had some great adventures with more planned. None of us will have a future exactly like we planned but we will have a future and good things will happen. We will face adversity but we will always remember that we survived the worst thing imaginable and we can probably survive just about anything.

I will always miss my husband but I know that my story has not ended. He has provided for my future and I am able to focus on doing positive things and pursue a career where I hope to make a difference in people’s lives.

The girls are doing better than I could have ever imagined. They also miss their Dad but they are choosing to live the kind of lives he would want them to. We have pulled each other through this.

I have heard many different things about observing or not observing the anniversary of death. I can’t imagine how you would ever ignore it so we are choosing to be together, with other loved ones. We will spend the day at Shaver since he loved to be there. We may paddle the canoe around the lake or take a hike. He will be right there with us.

Thank you for all of the love and support in the last year! Keep it coming because this grief journey is not over! We love you all!

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A Bit of Closure 2/16/17

This was originally posted on 2/16/17. I am reposting today since the defendant has completed his program. I’ll make a new post about that also. The image is the picture I planned to show the defendant.

Court is over finally. The defendant will spend 316 days in a treatment facility. I will write more about it later. Here are the statements we read. FYI “addressing the defendant” means addressing his back.

Statement read by Denny
Testimony

Your honor, I want to thank you for the opportunity to address the court. I’d like to start by reading a note from Daniel teNyenhuis, Patrick’s brother who cannot be here today. Dan is a retired United States Marine who still works to keep our nation safe. While we are in court for the sentencing of the man who caused his brother’s death, Dan is at work defending us.

These are Dan’s words –
“Patrick John teNyenhuis was my first friend and will always be my friend. I knew Pat before I knew anyone else. I spent my formative years with him. He significantly contributed to my personality and character. I owe much of my success to his influence. Yes, Patrick John teNyenhuis did live a blessed live. Pat deserved every blessing he received, including his three girls, Danell, Sierra, and Camille. Pat earned his other blessings through hard work and dedication, including his career as an expert Physical Therapist where he routinely helped others in need. Patrick John teNyenhuis was a COMPLETE man in mind, body, and spirit; from his music and career, to his health and physical fitness, to his family and faith. During his life, Patrick John teNyenhuis met people from all walks of life through his profession and his hobbies. Pat could talk with crowds and keep his virtue; he could walk with kings without losing his common touch. The world is a lesser place without the skills, music, and wit of Patrick John teNyenhuis. We all miss him.
–Daniel Joseph teNyenhuis

I can’t do a better job than Dan to describe Pat or the impact his life had on everyone around him.

Before I sit down, though, I want to talk about the impact his death had, and the actions that brought us all here today.
It’s important that everyone in this room understand that we are not here by accident. Recently, following a court appearance, a member of the defendant’s family told us that they were praying for us, but it was an accident. That is a lie.

Pat’s death was not an accident. He died because of the irresponsible, selfish and illegal actions of the defendant.
The defendant chose to buy an illegal drug.
The defendant chose to take that illegal drug. The defendant chose to get behind the wheel of a car and drive while under the influence of that drug and the sleep deprivation that resulted from its use. Whether it was intentional or not, the defendant then hit and killed Patrick. No logical person argues these facts.

Where logic still fails us all is the lack of accountability being shown here, and the total lack of justice.

The defendant will be back with his friends and family within a year, while Patrick is gone forever from our lives.

Neither are things we can change. We have to try and accept them, and choose to honor Pat’s legacy rather than live our lives filled with anger over the unimaginably deep and painful hole he left behind.
We will spend the rest of our lives following Patrick’s examples.

When this legal process started, many of us hoped that the defendant would be accountable for his actions and would take responsibility. As we learned more about his long criminal history, we were forced to give up that hope. On April 20 of last year the Defendant forever changed the lives of our family and his own. The only hope I have left for some positive outcome from this terrible crime, is that it is not too late for everyone in this courtroom to learn from a better example. For that hope I offer the memory of Patrick.
Patrick was a man who loved God and his family. Patrick was a man who worked hard, every day of his life. Patrick was a man who worked for everything he achieved in life and always shared what he had with those in need. Patrick was a man who often worked six days a week to provide a better life for his wife and children. Patrick was a man who had dreams and worked hard to achieve them. Patrick was a man who touched the lives of everyone he met. Patrick was a man who accepted the blame when he made mistakes and did everything he could to do better.
Patrick was a man.

Today I asked the court to do all it can to encourage the defendant to be a man from this day forward. To be a man and accept the terrible results of his crime. To be a man and work hard to change his life, so that this awful scene is not repeated. To be a man and work hard to give his children a better example. To be, a man.
Your honor, I thank you.

My Statement
My name is Danell teNyenhuis. For the last 24 years, I was Patrick’s wife. Our marriage began in 1992 and ended on April 20th, 2016 when you took his life.

I am not a vindictive person. I know very little about you. I know you are a father and I know that you made a series of poor choices that
resulted in Patrick’s death.

There is no punishment that will make up for the loss my daughters and I have suffered due to your choices. Unfortunately, our legal system was unable to find a way to adequately hold you accountable. So, you will do your time and then have the rest of your life ahead of you.

What will you do with the rest of your life?
Let me tell you how Patrick lived his life. He was an amazing husband! We were truly partners in life. He helped with everything including doing the grocery shopping and most of the cooking. He also found time to make me feel special and loved. He made all of my dreams come true. He was a wonderful father to our daughters, Sierra and Camille. His daughters were his pride and joy! When they were infants he would get up with them at night, change their diapers and then bring them to me to nurse. When they began eating solid foods he made all their baby food from scratch. He attended sporting events, helped with science projects and truly enjoyed spending time with them. They are beyond devastated by his loss. In the next year one will graduate from high school and one from college. Someday they will get married and have children and he will miss these important milestones.

Patrick was an excellent physical therapist. I know because he helped me rehabilitate after hip surgery. I also know due to the numerous
patients who have reached out to me since his death. Here is just one of the many stories that have been shared.

In 2009 I had a surgery which resulted in damage to my femoral nerve. Patrick became my physical therapist for an entire year, 3 times per week, as he persisted to try to figure out the best therapy routine and exercise regime to help my femoral nerve
regenerate and function. He did not know if the nerve was severed, crushed, stretched or who knows what, but he was relentless in the challenge to help me be able to use my right leg
again. I developed the greatest respect for him, his physical therapy skills, his tenacity and determination to take on the challenge and master the results successfully for me, as well as for his professional skills and efforts. The therapy was successful because of his training, perseverance and knowledge. I was able to move and functionally use my right leg again. He told me that I was a rehab miracle. The truth is, the miracle was God’s divine intervention transferred through Patrick’s passion for healing, professional skills and caring personality for his clients,
including me. He became not only my therapist but my friend during those sessions.

Patrick was also a devoted son and brother. And he was loved by 22 nieces and nephews and numerous extended family members. He was a good friend to many but was also humble and felt he only had one friend. His funeral service was standing room only.

He was a great provider for his family and he worked overtime most weekends to ensure that he could pay for his daughters to go to
college. He was unselfish and spent very little money on himself.

I could go on and on but I think by now you might be realizing how many people were affected by his death. In my opinion you have been given the gift of a second chance. Will you choose to continue the same path and risk making a poor choice again? My challenge to you is that you learn from this tragedy. Do your time and then change your life. Do
something positive. Make a difference in the world. Share your story as a lesson to others. I am not ready to offer forgiveness. But, if you want to atone for this then make your life matter.
The girls Instagram posts from 4/20/16, which I read in court.

Dina’s Statement

I’m Dina teNyenhuis, Patrick is my brother.

I’m not going to talk about Patrick being senselessly taken away from us because there are no words to describe the grief and anguish and pain it has caused our family. I’m going to talk about “accidents”. What is an accident? I think everyone in this room knows what one is. The problem with accidents is sometimes the ChoicesWeMake are what cause them to happen.

When my students would make poor choices and then claim that the result of their choices “was an accident,” I used this example to explain to them that they can’t hide behind that excuse: If you choose to climb up on a table and start dancing, then you fall off the table and break your arm, or another student’s arm – it was your choice to climb in the table – something you shouldn’t have done in the first place, that led to the “accident”, even if you didn’t intend to fall off.

If we make choices to do certain things or choose a certain type of lifestyle, there are consequences to those choices and to the “accidents” those choices lead to. We put ourselves in positions that can cause negative circumstances or “accidents”. Those are within our control. Our negative choices caused them.

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Growth rings – 12/9/16

Originally posted on 12/9/16:

Yesterday I started working on my afghan for the first time since Patrick died. I am using an infinity loom and technically it is knitting, which I don’t know how to do without the loom. I bought the loom when I was recuperating from surgery in early 2015. It took me the rest of that year to finish. I decided midway through that it was for Cathy. She is always cold and the color I had chosen was one of her favorites. I finished her afghan on January 1st of this year according to the date stamp of the picture I took of it. I started my afghan right after that and so far I’ve done about 4 inches so I have a long way to go.

I chose really soft yarn that is multi-colored with deep pinks and purples. I like the loom because you don’t need to count each stitch. On Cathy’s afghan, I alternated stitches and did an entire row at a time. For mine, I chose a basket weave pattern and it’s kind of a pain! Four knit stitches and then 4 purl stitches repeated throughout the row. You do three more rows exactly like that and then you switch the order. You end up with little four by four squares of the alternating stitches and it is pretty but it takes focus and I haven’t had much of that.

 

Eight months later and I have no idea what row or stitch I was on. I remembered that I made notes so I was able to figure out which stitch sequence I was on but I had no idea which row and that’s a problem with this pattern. After agonizing over it I decided I was just going to pick where I thought I was and if it resulted in imperfection, so be it.

Maybe my afghan will be like the growth rings on a tree. Nice and orderly and then a shock to the system. For trees, this could be a fire or drought. For me, it is the upheaval of my life when Patrick died. I decided that even if it was imperfect I would eventually get back to a set pattern and the afghan would be a reminder that I kept moving forward despite the shock to my system.

 

Everyone always tells me how strong I am so I must be missing my calling. Clearly, I am a good actress! The girls both got back to their old routines relatively quickly and I am still not working. Younger people are pretty resilient but I am still proud of how well they have done! I try to be careful about what I post about them, especially in my blog, but I am going to make an exception and be a proud Mama for a bit!

 

Both of my girls received communication from teachers this week that spoke to their ability to weather this tragedy and not only function but excel in their schoolwork. Sierra’s occurred when she turned in a final assignment. Camille’s was via comments on letters of recommendation she received from several teachers. I also had a chance to read several essays Camille wrote for scholarship applications. Out of respect for their privacy, I will not post the specific essays/letters or comments but I am really proud of both of them!

 

Today I am 49 years and 8 days old. This is significant because Patrick was 49 years and 7 days old on the day he died. All of those years that I joked that he would always be older and now I have passed him up. It’s a strange feeling that I will continue aging and he won’t. I’ve said from the beginning that Patrick hated the thought of getting old. I imagine that he is laughing a little at the thought of me passing him up and if there’s any solace it’s the fact that he does not have to experience old age or any of the physical problems that come with it. I, on the other hand, will continue making growth rings. I hope that each year I cover up more of the scars from 2016. They’ll never be completely gone but time will lessen their impact.

 

As I got ready to put away my afghan for the night I remembered that I DID actually have a way to track the rows. I had been using a row counter and when I searched through my bag, there it was! I was working on row 32 prior to April 20th. This conflicted with what I had determined and I should have changed my pattern at the end of that row. Instead, I continued for two more rows so now I will have 4 by 6 boxes instead of 4 by 4. I’m sure I could pull out the two rows and fix them but I think I will leave it the way it is. The imperfection will serve as a reminder that this was a bad year but there will be other years.

I will grow stronger, never the same, but on the path to all of the blessings I know I will experience in future years. Just like a fire can devastate a forest, 2016 has devastated me. This devastation will always be a part of my history but I have the opportunity to make new, healthy, growth rings and that’s what I choose to do.

Update 8/16/20 – The funny thing about this post is I still haven’t finished the afghan! When I finally DO finish it there will be all kinds of growth rings!

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Shaw Avenue 11/16/16

This was originally published on my Tumblr blog, which I’ve been slowly moving over. The picture was taken on 4/23/16 during a family walk to get us out of the house. My siblings and I are standing with our childhood home in the background. Denny, Dawan, Me, & Denise

The holidays are quickly approaching and I want to run in the other direction. Back to April. Back to last November. I am just so unprepared for holidays without him. At the same time I am really looking forward to January because that will mean the holidays are over.

I really don’t spend my days crying. I promise. And most of the time I am okay but it really doesn’t take much for the thoughts and pictures to start scrolling through my mind. If I go anywhere during the day I inevitably end up driving or crossing Shaw. I can’t really avoid it.

It’s crazy how much of our life is tied to Shaw. We both worked on Shaw. One of my elementary schools is on Shaw. We met a few blocks from Shaw. We opened our first checking account on Shaw. Fresno State is on Shaw. I spent four years of my childhood in the big house on the corner of Shaw and DeWolf. And he died on Shaw, a half mile away from that house. I have now driven down that section of Shaw 3 or 4 times. I only go there when I really need to let it all out and I don’t have to do that very often.

Ironically some of my best and a few of my worst childhood memories are from that house on Shaw. We moved from a tiny 3 bedroom house to that house and I think we all thought we were rich! A lot of the time we had our own bedrooms and somehow the 6 of us survived with 1 bathroom. I don’t even know how that was possible! We had all kinds of animals including a horse, a steer, goats, rabbits, ducks, geese, dogs, cats and pigs. There was always something to do. One time the pig had 13 piglets. They were cute when they were little. I remember one day I sat in the pasture and played with them. Later that day I was on the porch when they decided to go for a walk. Across Shaw. As I watched a car sped through their pack. All you could hear were squeals of pain. I ran in the house screaming. I was so upset I couldn’t really articulate what had happened and my parents thought one of the other kids had been hit. Miraculously only a few died. One had a broken leg but my mom had a splint put on it and it recovered just fine. We laugh at that story.

Another time I was getting home from school on the bus after track practice. There was an almond orchard surrounding two sides of our property. I saw Denise and Denny jogging along the orchard and, a little further, I saw that someone had left a few piles of clothes in the orchard. The bus stopped across the street from my house and the bus driver got out and let me cross the street. Suddenly, I saw a strange man with my brother and sister. He looked kind of crazy and seemed to have his arms on Denny. He asked me to get my parents and told me he had hit two men. We later found out that the tragedy began when a girl was driving by our house, pulling a horse trailer, and hit our Saint Bernard, Morley. Since she had the horse trailer she didn’t want to stop so she went home and told her dad and uncle. They lived less than a quarter mile away, on the opposite side of Shaw. Her dad and uncle drove over to tell us. For some reason they decided to park across Shaw instead of pulling into our driveway. I think the sun was low in the sky as they crossed. The driver never saw them. They were thrown into the orchard and killed instantly. I didn’t realize that I had seen them. Our dog was injured and my parents had him put down. What an awful day! This was forty years ago and I still remember almost everything about it.

How ironic that Patrick would ride past that house and a little way down the road his life would also end tragically. I didn’t really think about the fact that people lived near the accident site and would now be forever tied to this tragedy like I am to the one forty years earlier.

Today Camille went to Subs and Grubs for lunch. She used her phone to call in the order for herself and 3 others. As they went up to pay, the owner asked which one was Camille. She told her she recognized the name from caller ID. She pulled her aside and told her she lived out on Shaw and had been praying for my family. She didn’t charge Camille for her lunch. Such a small, crazy world! What a nice and unexpected gesture! I continue to feel the love that surrounds us, some of it from people we don’t even know. This is such a horrific experience but we are very blessed that so many people care about us and continue to do anything they can think of to help us. I know that I will survive the holidays. I will be surrounded by family and we will keep moving forward. There’s really no other way to go.

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Facade – 10/25/16

Originally posted on 10/25/16

Everyone always tells me how strong I am. How composed I am. Some days it is merely a façade. And facades aren’t intended to be permanent. Sometimes they fall apart.

I think I just went too long without crying. You try to hold it all in but trust me, eventually, it’s going to come out. Today it was the plants at the top of the stairs. I looked at them and pictured him watering them. He took care of the plants. I’ve kind of taken pride in keeping a bunch of plants including those alive since the funeral but let’s just say some of them are half alive. Kind of how I feel some days. I go through the motions, do the minimum. I know this isn’t fun to read but this is the reality. This is grief. And I promised to be honest about it.

I was chatting with another widow today. She lost her husband a few weeks after Patrick. His name was Pat. We are sisters now. She told me “I still can’t believe Pat is gone!” I said, “I know, I think that every day!” You’d think my brain would come up with something more original. I don’t know why it insists on reminding me. As if I didn’t know!

On days like this, I just can’t believe this is still so hard. Not that I ever thought it would be easy but I swear it’s harder now than it was the first month. At least I know that I will have good days and I do seem to have them more often.

Too much sadness! I will tell a story that I haven’t really put out there. Many of you have heard that Patrick ordered pipes for Denny and Phillip. They arrived here but never made it to them. My latest theory is that the boxes they were in were put into the recycling bin on the day of the accident. As things started unfolding I knew my house would be full of people so of course, all I could think about was how messy it was. The pipes could still turn up but I kind of think they would have by now. They were hilarious. Denny’s was a corn cob pipe and Phillip’s was some ridiculously long thing.

In the course of trying to verify that he did receive both pipes, I found a recent Amazon order that he had placed. The order was for a lighter that was shaped like a little man with a rather large body part that the flame shot out of. I realized that the lighter had not yet arrived so I told the girls we would be getting a package that would make us laugh. The package came on a Monday. I got the mail and left it on the table. We were leaving the house to go to the funeral home to see him for the first time so opening the mail was not a priority. That was a really, hard day for all of us. On the way home Denny was driving and I started talking about the package. I realized that somehow Denny had not heard me talking about it! So, I decided that he could open it. He opened it and there were not one but two lighters in the package!!! I’m not sure who they were intended for but we all got a really, good laugh out of them. They were on the mantle for a while, “saluting” his picture. I finally hid them after one too many kids noticed them (oops)! I didn’t put the picture in the original post but here it is! 

Later I decided that they would be a new family game. I gave one to Alyssa to hide in Denny’s house and one to Caitlin to hide in Gabe’s house. Gabe’s was apparently found quickly but Denny’s was in his 49er helmet and after several months we all but told him it was there and it was hilarious when he finally noticed it. Patrick’s humor lives on…. And now I can go to sleep with a smile on my face!

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The Lost Art of Writing – 9/28/16

Originally posted on 9/28/16

I found something else when I was searching in the garage. I found a box of things from high school and college. I am a sentimental person so I save a lot of things like that. The box mostly had certificates and sports award programs. A lot of stuff from my years of Cross Country and Track at Clovis High. There were also writing assignments from high school and college, poems I had written and some free form journaling. What surprised me is that I had forgotten how much I used to write!

In high school I spent a lot of time journaling or writing poems if something was bothering me. I think I continued this at the beginning of college. I met Patrick in the summer of 1986. He was home from UOP for the summer and I was on summer break from Fresno State. We began what would be a 6 year, long-distance relationship. Back then we did not have cell phones or email. Long distance calls could be very expensive and we were broke college students. So we sent each other a LOT of cards and letters!

I am eternally grateful that I have this written history of our early relationship. Right after Patrick died, when I was still in a semi-state of shock, I began reading through these. I would read a few at a time and I was sorting them into two ziplock bags in case the girls ever choose to read them. One bag is labeled PG and the other has a warning as they might not like the content of those.😉 As the shock began to wear off, I had to put them away. Some day I will read the rest but right now it’s just too hard.

As I read through them, it occurred to me that I would have enjoyed reading through them with Patrick. I think it would have been a great way to reconnect and reminisce. I have said this before but I repeat it often. I think one reason relationships fail is because the early days are so exhilarating but it is not like that forever. Your love matures and you become more comfortable with each other. When the “honeymoon” period is over, a relationship becomes something that you have to nurture. You can’t take it for granted. There’s going to be give and take and it’s not going to be as picture perfect as your courtship and honeymoon. We always seemed to find ways to rekindle that but I wish I had thought of the letters.

And the letters were not all hearts and roses either. One letter from Patrick was a heart breaker! He had been dating another girl at UOP and when he initially returned that first year he was torn between the two of us. In the letter, he told me that he loved both of us but was choosing her over me because he didn’t think he was capable of a long-distance relationship. I, of course, knew better and we all know how that ended! I truly had forgotten about this letter but it did not upset me to read it. That was part of our story and after that I was always confident in our relationship.

I know that people have been saying this for decades but I feel that writing is a lost art. We are all bombarded with constant communication. My children interact with their friends way more than I did but much of it consists of short text conversations, Snapchat stories and other social media posts. That doesn’t mean they are not close but when they eventually start having serious relationships (after age 30, lol) I hope that they also take time to record their thoughts and feelings in something more permanent than a text.

I challenge each of you to take the time to send a card or letter to someone you care about. It doesn’t need to be long, just let them know how much they mean to you. As I thought of this last night I wrote each of the girls a letter. And by wrote I mean I typed it in a document on my phone and emailed it to them. I’m a modern mom, right? I told Camille what I was doing and my thoughts behind it all. She said she would refuse to accept it if it wasn’t handwritten. I sent it anyway. I hope she forgives me. If I had waited until I found a card or stationary and then had to actually write it might have taken forever! 😊

The pictures below are pictures of a card Patrick sent me when I moved into our first apartment, shortly before we were married. This pretty much sums up how excited we were to be done with the long-distance relationship! I have so many good memories and I am thankful that I was blessed to be his wife!

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Five Months Later – 9/20/16

Originally posted on 9/21/16

Yesterday marked five months without Patrick. In many ways it feels like yesterday. I find it odd to think about all of the things that have changed. I’ve made little changes such as rearranging things in the kitchen cabinets, moving the wine rack and putting up pictures. I don’t want to erase him from memory but somehow these little changes seem to help.

Grief is a much longer and harder process than I ever imagined. I’m not sure why that is so surprising to me. I have had experience with tragic situations in the past but nothing that I was this close to. And no one talks about it. We just all assume that it is easy to move on, that people adjust to their new reality and the unpleasant grief goes away. So far, that has not been my experience.

Right after Patrick died a friend shared a Facebook group called Widows Hope with me. The first few times I saw posts I almost deleted it because it was SO sad and did NOT make me feel hopeful. “It’s been two years and I still cry every day,” or “It’s been five years but it seems like it was yesterday”. As time went on I did start to see more hopeful posts but I also came to realize that this is a place where people can bare their souls without worrying about upsetting others and sometimes when you are grieving you really need that!

I appreciate everyone’s kind thoughts and comments each time I post something but I don’t want you to always be sad for me. I am not writing this as a cry for help or attention. This is really just my way of healing and hopefully in the process sharing that it is okay to grieve.

I don’t want this to be the end of my story. I have a lot of life ahead of me and I hope that there comes a time when my loss is not the first thing people think of when they see me. I don’t want anyone to forget Patrick or assume that I have but I look forward to a time when the emotions are not so raw and painful.

I love you all! Thank you for helping me on this journey!