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OCG

I have a love-hate relationship with food. Mainly I love food, but I hate the fact that I gain weight so easily. I’m definitely an emotional eater, and I mean ANY emotion! If something good happens, I like to go out to dinner to celebrate. If there is a special occasion, it’s usually centered around food. And if I’m sad, a bowl of ice cream might cheer me up, at least until the guilt sets in.

One of my favorite treats is Mickey’s Yogurt. I feel it is healthier than ice cream, as long as you don’t overdo the portions or the toppings. When Cathy and I were walking all of the time and I lost weight, we would allow ourselves yogurt frequently. Our favorite flavor is oatmeal cookie gelato (OCG). I don’t know what it is about it, but Cathy, Camille, and I just love it! We check the Mickey’s Facebook page regularly because it is not always available. When it IS available we have been known to cancel all previously scheduled activities to go get it! If one of us can’t be there, they are usually taunted with pictures like the one below.

I’ve shared this picture before. I took it to send to Camille the night before Patrick died (I also took some home to her) and I like to think of it as the last happy picture before my life changed forever.

I have always wished that I was one of those people who quit eating when under stress. I know that’s not healthy either but at least I wouldn’t add weight gain to whatever stress I am under!

The only time I completely lost my appetite was when Patrick died. Food was no longer important. I’m sure I could have survived for a long period of time without eating but that is not a healthy way to lose weight. And, when you’re under that kind of stress, you need sustenance.

Everyone felt helpless during that time. So many people wanted to help and there wasn’t much anyone could do. That first day I remember Phillip bringing me a Diet Pepsi. I realize it has zero nutritional value but there are worse vices I could have! Matt Lamb stopped by Mickey’s and got me OCG. I was surprised that it was about the only thing I could eat. I’m not sure how long they had it that time but a lot of the teenagers (nephews, nieces, and friends of the girls) found out I liked it so they kept bringing it, sometimes more than once a day! The OCG and the love of the people bringing it, helped keep me going.

As hard as it is to know what to do when there has been a death, it’s actually surprisingly easy to do small things that have a big impact. A lot of that time I was in a fog but I remember the little acts of kindness…the yogurt, the Diet Pepsi, making sure I had water at the celebration of life. I could go on and on but my point is, sometimes it’s the little things that mean the most.

There have been several other times over the last two years when the OCG has arrived at a time when I needed a little cheer. I wish I had written them all down. Suffice it to say, there had to be some divine intervention going on!

Today there was OCG again, it’s as if someone knew this would be a hard week of memories…

PS – I’m definitely sharing this blog with Mickey’s Yogurt in a shameless attempt to get them to make OCG available on a more frequent basis. A girl can try!

Facebook screenshot and extra artwork courtesy of Cathy Lamb.

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Celebrating Patrick

Every year, for his birthday, Patrick liked to take a guys trip. Usually he went with his “only friend” Joe. Matt usually joined them and Gabe did occasionally. Usually they went camping. Some years they went to Shaver Lake. Other years they went to the beach. He just wanted to relax, maybe do some fishing and drink beer.

I was thinking about these trips, wondering if I should have gone… Of course, in hindsight I would go back and take advantage of any opportunities to spend time with him. But I never felt that I was being a bad wife by not going. I’m sure he would have allowed me to go but he never really expected me to. And the truth was, this was his gift to himself, a little break from all his responsibilities.

There is a known tendency, among widows, to idealize, or sanctify their late spouse. I’m sure I do this to some degree but I do try to be real. Patrick was by no means perfect but he was definitely a wonderful husband and father. I’m happy that we took these little breaks from each other. It reminded us of all the time apart early in our relationship and made us appreciate our time together.

Yesterday would have been Patrick’s 51st Birthday. So, he really should have been camping this weekend. I’ve been a little emotional at times this week. At times I will have random thoughts or random anger. I try not to spend too much time on the anger but I admit that I am angry at times. His death was so random and unfair and if I really stop and think about it I am just so angry that it happened. Earlier in the week I was in the drive-thru at Taco Bell and I started thinking about Patrick and getting sad. I looked up and there were yellow flowers. They always make me think of him. 🙂

I like to add funny stories so I’m going to add my niece Shayna’s post. She actually posted this the day of his funeral but reposted it yesterday. I have no idea why he had these but it was classic Patrick!

Last night we had a huge get together and it was really nice to all be there and share our love. In a way, I’m glad that his birthday is a week before the dreaded anniversary of the day he died. We can always celebrate his life on his birthday! We will think of him next week but last night was a happy time! I am so grateful for our family! Here are some pictures!

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I miss my “person”

Since losing Patrick I’ve kind of been on a crusade to make grief and mourning a less taboo subject. Talking about a loved one dying seems to help ease the pain. I really believe this. So why do I sometimes feel that I can’t?

There are unwritten rules in our society that tell us we should get over it and move on within some unclear amount of time. I’ve heard that people have actually made comments about this to grieving people. Thankfully no one has ever said anything like that to me but I do it to myself!!!

I have been so obsessed with this whole dating thing and I think it’s been a way to redirect my grief. To be clear, I am not dating to “replace” Patrick. He’s irreplaceable! Any new relationship will be a completely new chapter.

I do think I can replace the intimate connection that I lost. And I’m not talking about sex. What I miss more than anything is having that one person that you can talk to about anything. I have thought about this a lot because I have a lot of friends and family who care about me. My loved ones would do anything to help me and they would love to be able to fill this void. So I want to be clear that this is not something I could get from a parent, sibling, child, or friend.

If I had to, I know I could survive without having this again. I hope I don’t have to, but I do think I could have a good life without it. Many people do. I just prefer not to be alone.

The other thing I have been doing is trying to convince myself and potential partners that I am mostly done grieving. I have this idea that men might think a widow sits around crying a lot that is probably not something they would want to sign up for. It’s such a hard sell!

I think I just need to be me and quit worrying about it. Yes, I lost my husband. Yes, I am sad about it, some days more than others. Most days I still can’t believe he is gone. But I still have fun. I smile, I laugh, I LIVE. I’m just going to focus on that for a while.

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I’m in awe of Sierra!!!!!

Patrick loved both of his girls dearly and he had unique relationships with each. The last few days I have been reminded of how proud he was of Sierra.

Sierra. My firstborn. Beautiful. Strong-willed yet loving. Confident. Smart. Witty. She has been a bit more of a challenge to parent, not because she is a bad kid, we just butt heads at times.

Sierra had a special relationship with Patrick. They loved each other dearly. They would have heated arguments about a variety of things. He knew which buttons to push and on more than one occasion she ended up going to her room in tears when he pushed a little too far. And he tested this frequently. They didn’t always see eye to eye but as she got older i think they enjoyed their debates.

He worried about her when she went to college in Long Beach. She frequently called with a variety of car and apartment issues and at one point he was convinced that she needed to just come home. I knew that she would be fine. She tended to react strongly to problems but she always worked through them.

Two years ago today, Sierra got a ride home with her Aunt Denise and surprised us for a weekend visit. I screamed when I opened the door! Patrick had been experiencing a lot of challenges at work since he became the acting Inpatient Rehab Supervisor and it had been a rough week. He was SO happy to see her! They stayed up late talking and when he came to bed he told me that having her come home was exactly what he needed. He was so very happy and proud of her.

Sierra had been telling us she was graduating in three years. We weren’t sure whether or not this was a pipe dream or actually possible. She had not been a straight A student in high school but she was always a really good student and had a lot of AP classes. Patrick and i talked about how amazing it would be if she were actually able to pull this off!

When Patrick was killed, Sierra was in Long Beach. Fortunately Denise was only 1 1/2 hours away. She called Sierra and told her something had happened at home, and to pack a bag and be ready to be picked up. Sierra did as she asked and then waited for her to arrive. She didn’t call or text anyone. I asked her about this recently and she told me that she didn’t really want to know what it was until she was actually with Denise. I think it was a very wise decision.

We cried together as I told her over the phone. Then she came home, moved into my room for a while, and we helped each other through the next few months. She was able to take incomplete grades for that semester and was given a year to make them up. When she returned to school in the fall, I just wanted her to be okay and finish one thing at a time. I assumed the 3 year plan was no longer possible.

She exceeded all of our expectations, making up her classes and sticking to the 3 year plan. She graduated with magna cum laude honors last May. I encouraged her to take a year off to study for and take the LSAT, and apply for law school. This also meant that I had another year of not being alone!

In December, she retook the LSAT and improved her score. At the end of January she submitted her first applications. I assumed it would take a while to hear back but on Friday she walked out of her room with a big grin on her face and told me she had been accepted to Southwestern with a decent size scholarship! She cautioned me that she didn’t want to get too excited because there were others to hear from and she had a few applications left. She didn’t want to make a decision until she knew all of her options. I couldn’t help it though, I sat there and imagined what it would be like to be sharing this moment with Patrick and tears poured down my face. I am SO proud of her and I can just picture the huge grin that would be on his face.

Yesterday she checked the mail and there was an admissions packet from McGeorge, UOP’s law school. UOP is Patrick’s alma mater! Inside there was a letter telling her she had been selected as an Anthony M. Kennedy fellow, an honor that includes a FULL tuition scholarship!!!!! Again the tears flowed! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine she would get this kind of scholarship! Sierra has worked hard and overcome so much. Her dad would be so proud of her! I can’t wait for her to hear from the other schools and make her final decision but WOW, she already has so many options!!! I feel like there is nothing she can’t do! I’m just going to sit back and be in awe of her for a while!

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This drug is bad!

Prior to Patrick’s death, methamphetamine was something I rarely thought about. I knew that thanks to all of the meth heads we now have to wait in line at the pharmacy to get the really good decongestants. That is about the only impact it had on my life. Then, on that day, it suddenly became a regular intruder into my thoughts and life. And every time someone mentions it, I think, “Meth killed my husband!” I don’t say that out loud because it would probably make him sound like a drug addict! The man would not even take an aspirin!

The further along I get in my counseling education, the more I realize that meth is going to be ever-present in my life. It’s just that big of an issue. And even though I told myself I would never work in substance abuse, I think that God has different plans for me.

Tonight was my third night of training for Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA). I thought I would be advocating for kids from abusive situations. I definitely will be but the majority of the cases will more than likely have a connection to drug abuse. And meth appears to be the drug of choice. Parents who become addicted to it are more than likely going to end up doing something that causes their children to be removed from their home.

I have become a fairly unemotional observer of life. I can’t let a lot of feelings out at once. But tonight, listening to stories of how meth caused so much heartache in families, I did shed a few tears. Can I just say that it is incredibly unfair that my husband, who never touched illegal drugs, was killed as a result of another person’s meth use?

I think that I’m going to hear meth mentioned over and over again. I don’t want to become immune to emotional reactions when I hear it. I want to take that pain and channel it into something positive. I am trusting that I will eventually know what that is.

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All You Need Is Now

My latest assignment was a paper about the creation of hope. Some papers are a drag to get through but I enjoyed this one. Still, I am easily distracted. I took a break to fold some laundry and I was singing and dancing to “All You Need is Now” by Duran, Duran. I had a smile on my face and I suddenly pictured Patrick dancing with me. I don’t think things like this are random. I know that not everyone agrees but I get a lot of comfort from the thought that he is with me.

Later I listened to the song over and over and it was exactly what I needed. I have not felt a lot of hope lately. I’m very in tune with my feelings and I’ve been consciously struggling with depression. Things don’t always work out the way that I hope, and I spend way too much time analyzing them. I know what is causing my depression and I also know the things I need to do to get out of it, but I am stubborn, so I’ve been resisting a little more than I should have been. My foot hurts and I know if I go to the gym it will be painful, but I need to exercise. I took a walk instead and it did improve my mood.

The song was a reminder of the life I have had. I have to take those happy memories and propel them forward because I know I will be happy again. I had the most unimaginable thing happen to me and the way that I am getting through it is creating purpose in my life. I am hoping that my pain will make me a more empathetic and compassionate counselor. I am hoping that sharing my story will bring hope to someone who is just beginning their grief journey.

I’m not going to lie, the fact that Patrick is dead sucks! I’ve cried and screamed out loud, ate whatever I want, bought whatever I want, done whatever I want, and it still sucks. I know that I could let that be my story, but I think I owe it to him to have the best possible life that I can. Living my life to the fullest and doing something that would make him proud is going to give both of our lives meaning.

Some people quote bible verses but I am more likely to quote the lyrics from an 80’s song, or any song really. I look for purpose and meaning wherever I can find it. To me, “All You Need is Now” can be interpreted in a lot of ways. The song invites me to live in the moment, take one day at a time and live like there is no tomorrow.

One of the verses is “Everybody’s gunning for the VIP section. But you’re better up and running in another direction”. I hear that and it reminds me that we all have dreams. Some of us may fulfill them. Others will head down a different path and find something completely amazing there.

Mainly this song just reminds me of all the happy times we had. I’m not sure if we were dancing in the picture below but this picture and the others remind me of those early days. Thinking about them makes me smile and gives me hope that I will have wonderful times in the future.

All You Need is Now

By Duran Duran

It’s all up to you now

Find yourself in the moment

Go directly to the voodoo

Now the channel is open

Lose your head

Lose control

You come on delicate and fine

Like a diamond in the mind

Oh whoa, yeah

When you move into the light

You’re the greatest thing alive

Oh whoa

And you sway in the moon

The way you did

When you were younger

When we told everybody

All you need is now

Stay with the music let it

Play a little longer

You don’t need anybody

All you need is now

Everybody’s gunning

For the VIP section

But you’re better up and running

In another direction

With your bones in the thrall

Throw a shadow on the vine

Bat your lashes let it shine

Oh whoa, yeah

Every moment that arrives

You’re the greatest thing alive

Oh whoa

And you sway in the moon

The way you did

When you were younger

And we told everybody

All you need is now

Stay with the music let it

Play a little longer

You don’t need anybody

All you need is now

All you need, all you need is now

All you need, all you need is now

All you need, all you need is now

… and we will

Sway in the moon

The way we did

When we were younger

(When we were younger)

When we told everybody

All you need is now

Stay with the music let it

Play a little longer

(A little longer)

We don’t need anybody

All you need is now

All you need, all you need is now

All you need, all you need is now

All you need, all you need is now

All you need, all you need is now

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Trauma

Traumatic experiences never really leave you. I tend to downplay this since it’s not a pleasant topic. I survive by filing it away and controlling the amount of time I spend thinking about it. Usually this works.

My class assignment this week was on Crisis Counseling. Almost every week I have to write a research paper. I have to find references to support what I write about. Sometimes this is easy and other times it’s like pulling teeth. Last week I found 10-15 articles to pull from. This week I had the bare minimum of 3.

Sometimes I will find articles that aren’t relevant to my current assignment but I save them for future reference. I am interested in grief and trauma counseling so I have saved a lot of those. This week I found one on a program in Washington DC that provides crisis support and bereavement counseling for families who arrive at the morgue to identify someone who died suddenly from homicide, suicide, or accidents. This sounded similar to the Village of Support concept that I have talked about so I was eager to read it.

To clarify, I did not have to identify Patrick and did not see him until the funeral home had prepared him for viewing. I didn’t go through the process discussed in the article but as I read it, I still found myself back in that viewing room at the funeral home with my legs crumbling beneath me. I’ve told this story before. I realize I did not have to see him. This is a deeply personal decision, and for me, it was important to have that closure.

I was escorted into the room and I honestly can’t remember who was with me. I know it was one or all of my siblings. My Dad followed and as I sank to the floor he was suddenly there to hold me up. For some reason all I could say was, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”. I was telling Patrick that I was sorry that this happened to him but I know it was also an expression of my grief. They had him on a table, and this was somehow easier than seeing him in the casket. His skin felt soft, yet cold. His wedding band had a scrape on it when it was returned to me so I had to check his hand and there was an injury but it didn’t look bad. He looked peaceful but it wasn’t him. He had never looked like that in life. I knew he was gone.

There were many moments of trauma that I relive. The moment I saw the breaking news alert with the words fatal and bicycle jumping out at me. The phone call to tell Sierra. Being handed his watch and wedding band. Seeing him at the funeral home, then taking the girls in to see him (their choice). These memories aren’t endless, and they pop up less frequently now, but usually I’m caught a little off guard.

Yesterday, I was headed to an early morning appointment with my counselor. I got to Shaw and Locan, and BOOM, it was that day again. I wished i could go back to that exact moment, when I thought I was driving to find my husband walking his bike with a flat tire. One of the last moments before my life changed.

Today, as part of my interview to become a court appointed special advocate for foster children, I had to describe a traumatic experience and how I had gotten through it. The interviewer was aware of my background and made it clear that I didn’t need to discuss that experience. The thing is, I’m okay talking about it and it gets easier every time. I was able to recount all of the love and support I had that day and explain that my gratitude for that is the reason I am doing many of the things I am doing with my life.

Tonight, I read a comment from a widow/widower forum. A widower explained that a friend told him he needed to tell the story of his wife’s death more than 300 times. This suggestion came from a book by Kathryn Mannix, titled With the End in Mind. The author explains this by saying;

Bereaved people, even those who have witnessed the apparently peaceful death of a loved one, often need to tell their story repeatedly, and that is an important part of transferring the experience they endured into a memory, instead of reliving it like a parallel reality every time they think about it.

We need to be more comfortable talking about death. We will all lose someone and we will all die. It’s okay to acknowledge that. Tell your story, listen to mine. Each time it will get a little easier.

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He kept things running

I am finally free from the boot! Now I am learning to use my foot again. I have to keep reminding myself that it is okay to walk normally. I declined physical therapy, for now at least. Basically I just need to use it and exercise. But, I miss my in-house physical therapist. 💔

I realize more and more all of the little things I took for granted. I have done some silly things lately. If he were around I can imagine him telling these stories at work. I would expect him to. Silly mistakes were fair game in this house!

The Sprinklers – “Danell bought the “smart” sprinkler timer. If it’s so smart, why didn’t it know she accidentally turned it off in October and didn’t water the lawn for two months?”

The Thermostat – “If it’s so “smart” why does it need batteries?” Batteries died and I froze for two days before figuring it out!

The Air Filters – I can’t think of a joke he would make about this but I’m sure he would think of one! I was so happy the first time I changed them because he had a new set in the garage, AND I took a picture of them so I would know what to buy the next time. The date stamp says this was in July of 2016. I didn’t think about them again until last week when my sister was helping my mom change hers. Air filters? Oh yeah, that’s a thing! Oops!

Today I finally put all of the Christmas stuff away. It is all stored in the Harry Potter room under the stairs that he made by cutting a door in the wall. Last year I carefully fit it in while humming the Tetris music. If I ever complained about the dishwasher being too full or no room in a cabinet he would remind me that I loved Tetris and he would start humming the song. I usually didn’t laugh… I laugh now though and he would be proud of how I fit everything into that closet, especially since some of the boxes need to be held up while you shove other ones beneath them. This is not easy since the door is about 3 feet tall! I had to wait until the boot was off to finish this for obvious reasons.

I also finished organizing at least part of the garage so I could reinstall the fence system he designed to keep Aggie from running out when the door opened. I’ve been meaning to do it for months so Maisie could use the dog doors. It made me smile putting it up, knowing he had created it.

And I finally took down the work boots and shirt that hung just inside the door. The work boots are worn and probably need to be thrown out. The shirt I will probably save. So many memories of my big, strong husband wearing it while he took care of the yard and so many other things.

Life gets easier as time goes by. I’m trying to carry on like he would want me to. But I have a newfound appreciation for all he did. And it makes me miss him even more. He was one of a kind!

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Cherish

Last year I started a tradition of choosing a word for the year. For 2017 I chose patience. I think it was a really good word to choose and it was applicable to a lot of different parts of my life. A few times it reminded me to slow down and not rush into things. But I still need more patience so I may need to work on that one for the rest of my life! For 2018 I wanted a clean slate.

I thought it would take a lot of time to choose a word. I set aside some time to think about it and the word cherish just came to me within a few minutes. I think I’ve used this in my blog previously but not as my word of the year. I like that it has several meanings and a lot of synonyms!

Cherish means to protect and care for (someone) lovingly. I especially like this word because it makes me think of how Patrick cared for the girls and I. Anytime I drove somewhere without him he would tell me to “drive safe” because I was “precious cargo”. When we became parents he expanded this to include the girls. I also used this word to explain to one of my daughters that I hoped for her to find a man who would cherish her because she deserved nothing less.

Cherish also means to hold (something) dear. This makes me think of all the memories and traditions associated with Patrick. I will always cherish them!

The last definition I found is to keep (a hope or ambition) in one’s mind. This one reminds me of the goals and plans that I have for my life and the importance of fulfilling them.

For 2018 I want to remember to cherish everything in my life. Although I have experienced a profound loss I also have a lot to be grateful for and I want to cherish that. If I am cherishing life I feel that I am acknowledging that it is precious and I need to enjoy every bit of it, including everyone who is part of my life.

I also want to be cherished. This may seem like a no-brainer. However, when you are alone and lonely, it’s not always the first thing you think of. I know I am cherished by friends and family. I have felt the constant love surrounding me since that awful day last year. But I am also beginning to realize that this will be one of the qualities I look for as I date. I want to find someone that I cherish who also cherishes me. I realize that it will be very easy for me to settle for less than that and I want to remember that it’s important that I don’t.

Finally, I want to cherish who I am and what I do in my life. I need to have a meaningful life! I’m still thinking about my Village of Support idea but the timing hasn’t been right for me. So I will focus on other things I can do.

I like picking a word of the year because it will remind me to check in with my goals regularly. Feel free to share your “word of the year” in the comments!