A Gift

I can't believe it!  I just found a card Jeff had given to me on one of my birthdays.  It was in the second drawer of my nightstand, a place I keep my facial tissues.  I've been in that drawer I don't know how many times and never noticed it, but I saw it last night and pulled it out. I don't know which birthday it was for because it wasn't dated.  It was a beautiful card with a sentimental note and then he wrote his own note.  It was truly a gift.

There is absolutely nothing like finding a card or any little scrap of paper that has his distinctive handwriting on it.  It is the most unbelievable gift, especially two years since he's been gone.  Finding something truly new, something I didn't know was there and had completely forgotten about, is almost like having him back.  And it's just so weird to find something like this in a place I look at frequently.

Anytime anyone posts a new picture of him on Facebook, or tells me a story about him that I've never heard before, or posts a short video of him being his typical hilarious self that I've never seen before, or when I find a card from him when I think I've found every last card he gave me, can only be described as a gift.  It's like he's giving it to me for the first time.  It's like he's still here because I'm still learning something new about him.

I think that's really one of the hardest parts about death.  Our experiences and encounters are now finite.  It's like you got what you got and hopefully it was enough, until the day you somehow get a gift and you're seeing a new-to-you picture/video, a long ago forgotten card or note, or hearing a new story.

So thank you Jeff.  Thank you for every card you ever gave me and thank you for keeping every card I ever gave you and stashing them like a scavenger hunt around the house so I can still find them two years after you're gone.

And thank you for finding a way to tell me that you still love me.  I know that you love me but it's always nice to be reminded.

Grief and Food

I am a food lover.  I have always loved food.  It used to drive Jeff crazy when we would be eating breakfast and I would ask him what he wanted for dinner.  He couldn't believe as we were eating one meal that I was already thinking two meals ahead, but that's just how I've always been.

I've also always been a fat and happy kind of girl.  I find food to be the epitome of love and happiness.  I enjoy cooking and baking for others.  I enjoy nourishing those that I love.  I prefer to eat in groups and celebrate life and each other through food.

Anytime anything was stressful or traumatic in my life I lost interest in food.  I would lose weight and it was ironic that I was complimented on how great I looked physically when I was feeling my absolute worst emotionally.

When Jeff died, I, of course, lost interest in food.  Food was such a huge part of our life.  I usually made dinner 4-5 times a week for us and I loved the idea that he was coming home from a long day of delivering packages for UPS to a hot, home-cooked meal, made by me with love.

He had just started getting in to cooking the last few years we were together.  He had a couple of signature dishes he liked to make and one of my favorite pictures of him is when he was standing over a big pot of his spaghetti sauce with a huge smile on his face.

Every fall, spring, or summer break I was on, he would try and take a week off of work and that was when we would plan on going to all of our favorite restaurants and delis that we didn't go to while we were working.  I was definitely fat and happy.

I tried my best to heal him through food after he was diagnosed.  I bought a cancer fighting cookbook and tried all kinds of new and crazy recipes.  I started making him these crazy organic smoothies that he absolutely hated.  So after he died, I had no motivation to cook.  I had tried so hard to save him through food and failed.  Plus, there wasn't anyone to cook for.  I used to be so creative and try all kinds of new recipes and that passion was just gone.

But at least I was eating since Jeff's parents were with me the first couple months and his mom did all the cooking.  Then when they moved out, Jeff's brother moved in and I was cooking for him but the real joy of cooking was gone.  What I used to find so enjoyable and a form of mediation just turned into a chore.

When Jeff's brother moved out, I had a really hard time cooking because there really wasn't anyone to cook for other than myself and cooking for just me was never something I enjoyed.  I always cooked for a crowd and any of our friends can attest that Jeff and I definitely ate like we were a crowd.  It was funny though that I would still grocery shop like I was still feeding a crowd.  I was on autopilot maybe, still buying food like I had someone to cook for.  So after a few months of that my pantry and freezer were packed and that was a sad sight because I knew that nobody was eating any of it.

What began to get me out of my rut is a meal program called Blue Apron.  It sends all of the ingredients needed for three meals a week to my house complete with a recipe card.  This has allowed me to go through the motions of cooking creatively but without all the thinking and planning.  I have enjoyed using Blue Apron and feel like it has helped me tremendously by just getting me back in the kitchen and allowing me to regain those skills and use those muscles again and it feels good.

I still have a hard time being creative and thinking of things to cook on my own.  I'm better now and I am actually looking at new recipes again but I still don't have the motivation to actually make them unless it's a Blue Apron meal.  I just save them in a pile on my counter top hoping one day I will find that motivation again and have a passion for creative cooking.

I am hopeful that I will one day get back into it on my own.  It helps that Wyoming is a real foodie too but he is the one who enjoys doing all the cooking and I have just been letting him do it all when we are together.  I am letting someone else nourish me and I can see how happy it makes him, just like how happy it made me to nourish Jeff.

Two Years Eve

Tomorrow will be two years.

I feel like it's been a bit anticlimactic.  I got through Christmas relatively well. I've kept busy and maintained a strong workout schedule even though I've had a cold for the past two weeks that relapsed hard the day after Christmas.

I'm hoping tomorrow will just roll on by.  Of course I'll recognize the date my husband passed but I'll also still be breathing, moving, and essentially, living.  Might as well make that life happy.

I'm meeting two of my girlfriends for brunch tomorrow and then have plans with another girlfriend for dinner so I have things to do and won't be alone.

Then, on the 30th I will be flying out to Wyoming to spend New Years with Wyoming.  I'm looking forward to it.

I think making plans helps a lot.  I think surrounding yourself with positive, supportive people helps a lot.  I think exercising helps a lot.  I think having something positive to look forward to helps a lot.  I think all kinds of things can be done to help stay up and not let the deep, dark, black hole of grief suck you down.

It doesn't mean that I won't have moments of sadness, but I'm hoping that they will only be moments.

Looking back, I'm proud of all that I've accomplished.  I truly believe that Jeff is proud of me too and really, that's all I could ever ask for.

I Survived!

I survived Christmas relatively unscathed this year.

There was of course the typical Christmas family drama (what's Christmas with 20 adults and multiple children all crammed into the same space without a little yelling and crying?  What do you mean we only have 5 potatoes and not 10 pounds of potatoes?  What do you mean I am the one who has to go find an open grocery store to buy 10 pounds of potatoes even though I wasn't in charge of mashed potatoes this year?) but I didn't let it phase me or stress me out like I would have in past years.

Christmas is ever evolving.  This is the second Christmas without Jeff and Grandma.  It also felt different this year because one of my uncles is in the hospital awaiting a lung transplant, my mom is battling health issues, and one of my cousins is going through a nasty custody battle and also recovering from a heart attack, while another cousin is in jail. 

But, it was still Christmas.  It was still full of food, family, laughter, and love.  Well, at least in between the yelling and crying.

I have come to realize I would rather have yelling and crying and chaos at Christmas because that means there is family, who even if they might not get along all the time, still love each other enough to come together, maybe fight a little, but all sit down and genuinely enjoy each other's company than a quiet, lonely Christmas. 

Hopefully your Christmas was everything you wanted it to be, whether that means it was chaotic, yet full of love, or it was peaceful and routine.

Merry Christmas everybody. 

Amen Sister!

This article by Widow Chick epitomizes how I feel right now.

Today is the last day of the semester at school and two years ago today was when I got the phone call from the doctor telling me that there was nothing else they could do for Jeff in the hospital and it was time to call hospice.  A little over a week later, he was gone.

Last year, I had a hard time (to say the least) when it came to the holidays.  I was almost expecting the grief to hit me hard again (and I may be jinxing myself since there is still a week until Christmas and about two weeks until the anniversary of Jeff's death) but so far I've been doing ok.

I really connect with Widow Chick's article about it getting "easier."  It's true what she says that the word "easier" doesn't really quite fit but it's so hard to explain these feelings.

This quote from her article is totally me:

"I know that, in the beginning, when someone would tell me that it gets easier, I wanted to know the exact date, time, and cause of death of the person's spouse so that I could compare notes with my own situation.

Okay...so her husband died two years before mine...in an accident...so in exactly six months, four days, and three hours things should be getting easier."

 

I used to say over and over "someone please tell me how to do this whole widow thing and then I can handle it, it will be easier.  Please tell me what I will expect tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day for the rest of my life."

But as Widow Chick says:

"Doesn't work like that.

And the truth is, that what "easier" means to someone could be completely different from your definition:  She could mean that she actually took a shower that morning and remembered to put on matching shoes while you're thinking she means that she is now remarried, got a promotion at work, and is training for a marathon.

I can assure you, that this journey is never "easy" for anyone...I don't care how far out you are or what your current life situation is.  Life will never be "simpler, uncomplicated, and effortless."

But I do have to say that this year, so far, the holidays have been "easier" for me.  I don't know if it's because of the passage of time, the new school I moved to last year, the relationships I have gained and lost since Jeff died, the work I've done on myself with my bereavement group, one-on-one therapy, and all the grief literature I've read, Wyoming, or all of the above combined.

What I do know is that I still feel like Jeff helps me through all of this and I continue to thank him for helping me.  I hope he never stops.

If you are having a difficult time this holiday season, hopefully it will get "easier" for you soon.

Allegiant

Spoiler alert!  Tris dies! 

Four has a hard time dealing with her death obviously and he wants to take this serum that will erase his memory.  As I was reading this, I also thought how wonderful it would be to erase the pain I feel.  I mentioned in a previous post how I wanted to fast forward through grief and I realized, just like Four realizes, that we can't do that.

I love that the last couple of lines of the trilogy are:

"Life damages us, every one.  We can't escape damage.  But now, I'm also learning this:  We can be mended.  We mend each other."

How fantastic is that statement? 

But I think the key is that we need to allow ourselves to be mended.  We need to be grateful and thankful for those that we love and care about who are still here, especially during this holiday season.

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad

Today is my parents' wedding anniversary.  They have been married for over 40 years.  It's been 42 years to be exact.  They have definitely been awesome role models.

They were able to retire a little over 10 years ago and have been traveling and relaxing and just enjoying themselves, which I'm glad they got the opportunity to do since my mom has been having some health problems these last couple years.

My dad says all the time now that people should retire as soon as financially possible and really enjoy life.  With Jeff leaving so early in life and now with my mom having health problems, I can't agree with him more. 

I think about how Jeff and I would be if we would have made it to 42 years of marriage.

But at least my parents made it.  Happy 42nd Anniversary Mom and Dad!