Thank you, Frank & Theresa Poff!

It was three years ago tomorrow.  Frank & Theresa Poff gave me a precious gift for which I can never adequately describe my appreciation. But I will try...  Because of this special couple, I have something I will never forget....a unique & wonderful Valentine memory with Jim.

It was February, 2009, 26 months after we lost Jake.  The fog was beginning to lift a little. We had each started the year acknowledging the unhealthy state we had both reached.  So we were ready. Jim adopted the South Beach Diet. I began my tried-&-true method. Of course he loses 20 pounds, seemingly overnight, the way guys just seem to do by skipping breakfast sometimes.  I had finally reached 10 pounds, with a lot left, but it was a healthy start. Things were looking up. Claire & Sarah were doing well in school & Jaxson was the light of our existance.

Even before the loss of his son, Valentines was never a huge deal for me.  Always too crowded to go out. Our routine had gone something along these lines...

Year 1: Don't send roses, Jim. They are too expensive.  Jim sent red roses.
Year 2: Don't send roses, Jim. They are too expensive. They die too quickly. Send fresh cut flowers. Jim sent red roses.
Year 3 Don't send roses, Jim. They are too expensive. They die too quickly. Send fresh cut flowers. I really like them better.  Jim sent red roses...BUT... the card said, "because  I like roses!  Well, ok..case closed.

But, 2009 was different.  I don't remember if there were flowers. I don't think so. A few days before, he told me Frank had invited us to see the Gatlin Brothers at the Perot.  Jim seemed excited, which didn't make sense to me, since he had made fun of me when I went with Becky & Garrett Steele a few years before.  After he assured me he really wanted to go, I agreed. We were to go to dinner  before the show. I balked and reminded him we would NEVER get into a restaurant & we would miss the show. Jim's words?  "You don't understand. Frank KNOWS people.  We will get in!" (while we were eating dinner at their SECOND choice, Frank confirmed, "I do know people. We made it to the top of the cancellation list! But....no one cancelled!")

Jim came in from court that day with a beautiful Fossil bracelet watch for me.  I loved it, and was completely surprised, since we did not exchange gifts at Valentines  and I had nothing for him. The face of the watch was huge.  I have to credit Frances Haynes and Providence, as well as Jim, for that beautiful gift. There was no way to know at that moment that 48 days later, that watch would become my lifeline when I moved into the  ICU family waiting room and began living from one 12-hour shift to the next for 30 days.  I could see the hands without glasses. But that night, we were 10 days away from the first time 'cancer' was mentioned, and enjoying the evening. I put on my new beautiful watch for the concert.

Dinner was delicious, and the company was incredible, as  anyone who knows Frank & Theresa can attest. Our tickets were front row and center. I was excited.  Then I realized..... I was the only one of the four who could name even one Gatlin Brothers' song.  Even Jim, who had ridiculed me years earlier about the group, had no clue.  I remember exclaiming something to the effect, "We are sitting front row and center and you guys cannot even mouth the words to one song?! Oh dear! We are the ones they will see!" I had always loved the Gatlins, and I knew the words to ALL the songs, so I instructed them to follow my lead.  "Ok, I will lip synch & move enough for all of us. We can do this."   And we did.  It was a great show. Because of their ages and the strain their style of singing places on the vocal chords, they have a lot of cutesy 'filler' time in the act, but it was fun.  And we were invited to stay and meet the band after the show.  Front row center does have its advantages.  We stayed and got our picture taken with Larry.  That picture was published in Four States Living and was on the newstands when I came home from the hospital after losing Jim.  It was tough to see, but I am so grateful for it now.

I searched for an appropriate Gatlin song to share here.  There are so many that showcase their beautiful harmony that I've loved so long. I selected one of my all time favorites.  It is a tough one, but achingly beautiful.

"And how will we live now....you tell me...
with parts of our hearts torn away?
Just existing makes dying look easy.
But maybe tomorrow....I've done enough dying today.."

I have always loved this one.  Before I moved to the address in time where "existing makes dying look easy", I always thought of it as just a sad song. But now, after I had to "learn sleeping all over", I feel the hopefulness inside the soul of the song. 

So tomorrow, I will head to T-town with a Gatlin CD to keep Dusty & me company during the ride.  I will deliver valentines to my most precious little men and stop by the cemetery. Yes, of course, there will be red roses...

Frank & Theresa, I love you guys for many reasons. I am so grateful your beautiful marriage is a part of my treasured memory. Happy Valentines Day and thank you from every chamber of my heart.

God's gift to Jim..

I wanted to find the perfect picture and words for today, the day Jim would have turned 57.  The picture I took of them after a big win in Jakes senior football season reminded me I had the perfect words already; Jim’s own words. He was attending an annual prayer/study retreat in southern Louisiana and wrote this February 28, 2008, at the mid-way point between Jake's death and his own.

“Until this morning, I have not been much on trying to imagine how Heaven might be in any specific or literal way. As I was taking my morning exercise, about 7 o’clock, though, I had a powerful and comforting idea which I believe was sent from God and for which I am deeply grateful. This idea may well not turn out to be the way Heaven is for me or anyone else, I understand. It may be better! God obviously will do what God knows to be best. At this point in my life, while Jake’s death and my grieving are still active and sad, this little scene was wonderful.

As I was walking around the main grounds of the campus, toward the river and away from the large dormitory, I faced, at a distance, the statue of St. Joseph, earthly father of Jesus, holding the baby Jesus. The big white fence had its entire gate removed so I am able to walk without stopping through the gate and down a great, huge oak alley__ towards Joseph and Jesus.  Behind them is the levee and beyond the levee, Old Man, the Mississippi River.

The idea that came to me is the white fence; gate not only open, but removed and put aside so that there was no hindrance to entry into Heaven. (The gates here at Manresa were down and put aside). The walk from the entrance to St. Joseph was short, easy, and the weather was perfect. The view was surrounded by the magnificent oaks. It was perfect. Though the statue of Joseph holds the Christ Child, I imagined Joseph not only introducing me to the risen Jesus, but also to my son Jacob, also risen and waiting. Then the fields outside the oak alley became places Jake and I could play catch__baseball or football again. Except now I could throw better and we’d “get it right this time”__our relationship; and it would be forever.

Thank you, God for this beautiful thought this morning.”

I pray it is every bit as wonderful and so much more than you saw that day, Jim!  

Love, Kath

My life as a tree.

When I got to church this morning, this tree was the first thing I saw. There are several full size bradford pears surrounding the parking lot that were planted about 10 years ago. Each one was dedicated to remember or honor a loved one.  At this spot was Jim's tree.  His stepmother Jane had honored him this way.  On May 2, 2009, half of Jim's tree broke off during a storm.  This was the night before he died. Actually, it coincided with the time his daughters and I surrounded the bed and told him how much we loved and needed him, but we would understand if it was time for him to join his son Jake.  It was several weeks before I was told exactly when the tree broke. A prayer vigil was held in this parking lot several weeks before that and around 100 people attended. Jim's grandson Jaxson was shown his Papaw's tree the night of the vigil.

For two years, half of the broken tree continued to live.  Of course, it wasn't a beauty like the surrounding trees.  It oftentimes looked so sad. I continued to hope it would regain its shape and beauty.  A couple of weeks ago, during another set of storms, the remaining tree fell over.  A young tree was replanted in its place.  I am in the process of relocating so I knew nothing about it. The head of the trustees found me this morning to let me know, but of course, I already knew and had taken a picture. I just needed the details filled in.

I realized during the service today that the tree was me.  It was broken the same night I was. And for almost two years, it was alive, but not thriving. It was surviving only.  And close to the two year mark, the old life let go and a new life began to grow in the same spot.

Several widows who are older than I told me along my journey to give myself two years. Almost every one of them said two years would pass before you feel alive again. My hero Jon told me early to forget about getting back to normal. I would have to find my way to a "new normal", as the old one was forever gone. Being a younger widow, I wanted to reject the two year suggestion.  Surely, it would not take me that long.  I should listen and learn more.... it was very close to two years. 

My Wid Family

I am so grateful the internet social network was established before my grief journey began.  I do not want to think about where I would be today without it.  My wids have been lifesavers.  I am certain many of my future blog entries will refer to this group, so I'd like to introduce them a little.

A few months after Jim died, I was googling for help on one of the many sleepless nights. I found an internet support group for widows where each posted what was on his/her mind and others responded. Similar to facebook, but without games or gimmicks or pictures. Everyone was as anonymous as they needed or wanted to be.  It was amazing.  They were reading my mind! They were saying things that I could not.....and many others were thinking the same thing! I wasn't crazy! I wasn't losing my mind! Or....if I was....I had company!!  It was always open. 24/7. Someone was reading, someone was posting, someone was responding.  They were all over the world; United States, Canada, New Zealand, United Kingdom, etc.  All with one thing in common; the loss of their spouse.  I wanted to talk to these people, but at the time, I could not.  I could not put my words out there at that time.  We had a caringbridge blog while Jim was in ICU. In 30 days, it received over 65,000 hits. His friends would check it constantly during the day, so the numbers quickly climbed.  Many people thanked me afterwards for allowing them to share the journey.  In truth, it took a toll.  And I could not bring myself to talk to these people, as I was just empty.  So I read, and read, and read.  For over a year, I read. I cried. I laughed. Finally, in August, 2010, I joined.  I found a family. They welcomed me with open arms.  The very first person to respond to my introduction post is planning a visit this summer to see me, and she and I will be finding, or creating, some trouble.  In February of this year, I met 24 of these wonderful people in Fort Worth, Texas for a weekend. It was an amazing time of instant friendship, love and understanding, and many of us are planning to meet again soon. We now communicate through the original site, facebook, chatrooms and even the occasional phone call.  The most painful truth is the membership list continues to grow everyday. But... so does the love.....

Seldom do we refer to ourselves as widows.  Too.....well....old!  We are wids, widdas, widchicks, widsis,  widbro, etc.  At Easter I called some my widbunnies!  

I thought I would share the post where I introduced myself to the group. I won't share the responses without their permission, but I can tell you, they were incredible and overwhelming.


MY INTRODUCTION TO MY WID FAMILY

I need to thank you guys for saving my sanity if not my life. I joined the board 10 days ago. But in truth, I was a lurker for over a year.

My background: I lost my husband in May, 2009, less than 2 1/2 yrs after we lost his son to an accidental drug/alcohol overdose.

After Jim died, I found you guys, but I could not speak. All my words were gone. I read. I cried with you, I laughed with you, I prayed for you on the occasional days I could see outside my own grief.

In January, 7 months after he died, I was trying to find the courage to speak when I got my diagnosis; breast cancer. I was almost relieved. I was going to join him and stop hurting. Even hearing my cancer is one of the very best kind to treat didn't convince me. Jim died from sepsis and I might too. Ladies who had been there would tell me my attitude was the most important thing for my outcome. I'd smile and say what they wanted to hear. Inside my head, I thought, "Great! Attitude sucks and I'll soon be out of here". Made sure the monument was what I wanted and put in place and went to the hospital.

Surgery went well; reconstruction went well. Clear lymph nodes. 2 @ stage 0, 1 @ stage 1 and no chemo recommended. It was a few weeks before I realized this wasn't going to kill me. Then the grief monster came to live at my house and would not go away. I was going to live and I had no life without him, nor did I want one.

But you guys were still there for me. Day in; day out. Night and day, you guys were there and I still had no voice. But it was ok. You had my words. And I love you for that.

Then, 10 days ago one of you mentioned she did not have health insurance. I snapped. I had to talk to her. My first outpatient biopsy was $12,000 and she was in my age bracket. I wish there was a video of me trying to get registered. Finding a name; finding a password, figuring out what I'd just entered as a password. I was a madwoman. I HAD to get to her, NOW! Can't type worth a damn in that mindset, but I finally got in. She was so sweet. Then I messaged someone else, then someone else, till I began to really feel like I was among my friends.

So if sometimes I post like I've known you a while, I probably have. You probably helped to save me. People tell me I seem better, as I have begun to ask myself what do I want my life to look like?

I have a long way to go, but Thank you, thank you, thank you.

And to the large group of Anonymous users who haven't found your voices either, it's ok. I hope my friends are helping you as much as they did me.

Thanks
Kathy

Not Yet!!

It would probably make more sense to share my story in chronological order.  But....that isn't going to happen. My timelines now are now; before Jake died, after Jake died, before Jim died, after Jim died, before cancer and after cancer.  I think I remember most of it, but trying to put it into a timeline would be impossible for me, as my mind jumps back and forth. So my postings will probably have no rhyme or reason. They will follow the thoughts of the day.

A few days ago, we lost a fellow widow. I did not know her. She could not handle it anymore and she took her own life, leaving her young children with no parent. I am not sure what the answer is, but I know there are many who are grieving a spouse, a child or another love, and the same thing could happen again. We must find these people and help them before it is too late.

There is a difference between "wanting to die" and being "suicidal".  But my fear is they can both end the same way. I will share my own experience. 

I think it was about 2 weeks after my husband Jim died.  I was already in counseling, but I was drowning in PTSD.  Thirty days in ICU only to lose the fight left me empty.  I wanted to die. That was ALL I wanted.  But I wasn't suicidal.  And the opportunity presented itself.....

I think it was the first time I went back to church. I was heading downtown and was at a redlight. My light turned green.  The next few seconds played out in very slow motion.  I saw a car coming.  I knew there was no way she was going to stop at her speed.  I also knew I had just enough time to get in front of her...and it would be over....and it would be an accident....and it would not be my fault....  I saw ALL of this in that second. I saw the end of the pain...and I reached for it. I lifted my foot from the brake and pressed the accelerator.....

Somewhere... at that second...and I have no idea if it came from within me or outside of me... I heard a very loud, "NOT YET!", and my foot slammed back on the brake. Was it my will to live, or was it God's intervention or a combination of both?  I do not know the answer to this day. But a choice was made that day to live. And for that, I am grateful...

And being available for those in pain for any reason is very important to me now.  I believe Jesus spoke to us about loving each other a few times....

Have a blessed day!

  

My favorite version... After A While

I often see a shorter version of this called Comes the Dawn, but last week I found my favorite version after misplacing my copy years ago. The first time I saw it was about 30 years ago. As a twenty year old clueless one, something in it spoke to me then.  As a fifty year old, still clueless one, it still speaks, but in a new way.

After A While...
....Veronica Shoffstall

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and sharing a life
And you learn that love doesn't mean possession
And company doesn't mean security
And loneliness is universal.
And you learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build your hope on today
As the future has a way of falling apart in mid-flight
Because tomorrow's ground can be too uncertain for plans.
Yet, each step taken in a new direction creates a path
Toward the promise of a brighter dawn.
And you learn that even sunshine burns
If you get too much
So you plant your own garden and nourish your own soul
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that love,
True love,
Always has joys and sorrows
Seems ever present, yet is never quite the same
Becoming more than love and less than love
So difficult to define.
And you learn that through it all
You really can endure
That you really are strong
That you do have value
And you learn and grow
With every goodbye
You learn.