Jay’s Perspective

When I first woke up, I actually thought I was fine. I forgot it was my dad’s birthday (as I can never seem to remember anything first thing in the morning), and when my mom reminded me I was okay with the day. I was actually excited to celebrate him today, even though our plans were cancelled. Sometimes significant dates just feel weird and empty, but I thought I didn’t feel any different today.

As the day as progressed however, I’ve realized I must be feeling more than I’m even aware I’m feeling, because I’m exhausted. I don’t have much to write for you all today, and I truly wish I had more. Today feels more “blah” than anything to me today. It’s a day where I just want to curl up and hide so I can just be alone and rest; although that’s not exactly unprecedented with me. I’m a huge introvert and I had my first zoom call yesterday, and I’m not exactly the best with technology so it was stressful and draining for me. I figured that the experience partially contributed to my exhaustion and wanting to become a human-blanket burrito today, but this is more than just my usual “ugh-I’ve-done-too-much-socializing” exhaustion. I miss my dad every day, but I think I’m missing him more today than I even realized.

Being in tune with my feelings is always tough for me, but it’s especially difficult today since I’m so tired. I’m not an emotional person by nature, and feeling my emotions takes effort for me sometimes. It’s something I just don’t have the energy for today. I don’t know what the cause of the exhaustion is; it could be socialization and stress yesterday, missing my dad, or honestly just life in general. Feelings take a lot out of me, and I feel like I have nothing to give to them today. I’m too tired to be sad, I just want to sleep. Honestly a siesta is probably exactly how my dad would have wanted to celebrate his birthday anyways.

There’s also the fact that our power went out in the middle of the night this week, and I am petrified of the dark. I hate to admit it, and often times I can even convince myself that I’m not that scared of the dark. Then a power outage happens in the middle of the night, I scream bloody murder, and there’s no denying I’m terrified of the dark. I’ve never freaked out in public before except for when I was five, and usually when I can see even a slimmer or pin-prick of light I’m okay. But when the lights go out unexpectedly and it’s pitch black… Watch out for the crazy screaming lady (that would be me).

I just got up to go pee, and as I was washing my hands the lights went out. The next thing I knew, it was pitch black and someone is screaming. It took me a minute to realize the screams were actually coming from me. I flipped the light switches like a mad woman trying to get them to work, and when I opened the bathroom door the dark room looked like an empty void of blackness. I screamed more and my entire body started shaking. I grabbed onto the door frame and pressed my head against the cool metal to try and calm myself down. It felt like years later but it was probably less than a second before my mom finally came running to me with her phone for light and held me in her arms. I felt calmer seeing her face in the light, but I couldn’t breathe. I was just sobbing, wheezing and shaking in her arms. It was so embarrassing, I finally had to pull away and just force myself to inhale some air. For the record, it is still embarrassing and I can’t believe I’m actually sharing this story.

I did finally calm down and the lights did come on, but that wasn’t exactly the best nights sleep I’ve ever had. So I think that whole ordeal has effected how tired I’m feeling today, since today is my first actual day off to recover from the week. I’m too tired to actually do all that grief stuff today, I’m just putting a little pause in that right now lol. I do wish I had more for you all today, but I can share that I was griefy when the lights went out. It made me think of when I was little. My dad and I would stay up after my mom went to bed, and my dad would walk me to bed with his phone light because I was scared to walk down the hallway alone. I’m so appreciative of my mom and I’m so glad she was there, but I have those memories of my dad helping with the dark. Part of why I hardly slept that night is because I was thinking about my dad and the upcoming birthday.

We’ve learned that sometimes the days leading up to the date are harder than the actual day itself, and I think that was the case for me. I’ve been grieving all week leading up to today, and now that it’s here I’m griefed-out. I did my birthday grieving and now on this actual day I’m ready to just rest. If you ever feel like leading up to the day is harder than the actual date itself, just know you aren’t alone. We’ve noticed this pattern, and we’re sure other people experience this too.

I really can’t think of a clever sign off today, but I hope everyone is doing as well as they can right now. I hope this post helps someone not feel so alone in how they grieve if they tend to feel more leading up to the day than the actual day. I’m wishing everyone a safe and healthy week. Just remember, to quote Dear Evan Hansen,  “You are not alone”. (And if you don’t know Dear Evan Hansen, go YouTube the song “You Will Be Found”. It’s six minutes long, but it is a freaking mantra for anyone who is grieving.)

Shell’s Perspective

This is my sixth year grieving my husband and I can honestly say some days are just harder than others. Today would have been his 52^nd birthday. All week I have been ignoring the “date” and pretending like if I ignore it, the day will just magically go away and all will be well. But for some reason, no matter how much we ignore something our bodies, hearts and subconscious know and feel these “dates”. I have friend who told me once to just forget about the dates; ignore them and they will go away. Obviously, she meant well, but for me that does not work. Trust me, I tried all week to ignore it. What happened? I went to bed feeling sad last night and I woke up with a heavy heart today. The lockdown that is happening right now really isn’t helping either. We had big plans for today. We had plans to go to an art show in San Diego and eat at a raw vegan restaurant that we have been wanting to try. Then we were going to finish off the night at Disneyland. The way we handle our grief is by going out into the world and living life. We celebrate our loved one, talk about him and do things. But everything is shut down, so now what? We talked yesterday about taking a drive to the beach and just cruising around then heading back home. That way we would get out of the house for a bit and not leave our car, so we would mostly be following the rules. Then we saw that the beaches are packed and full of people. Wait, isn’t there supposed to be a lockdown? So, the decision to drive was cancelled because honestly neither of us want to deal with crowds or traffic. Ironic right? So how will we spend today? I am not sure yet. I do know that for the first part of it we will be writing as I am writing to you all now.

To be open and honest about my grief, today feels rough. I said last night to Jay, “sometimes I wish grief would just go away”. Greif can be annoying at times, and it’s like this Achilles heel that just won’t go away or a monkey that is stuck on your back.  When you love someone and they die, you’re left with grief because you love them so much. I never want my love for my late husband to go away, but sometimes the pain is more than I want to deal with. I know it’s important during grief moments to feel your pain and ride the roller coaster of grief. Everyday is not a rough day, it’s just some days like today. Today I have a heavy heart and true sadness. Then I heard a voice in my head asking myself if I am being selfish for feeling the way I am feeling today. Then I thought, why did that question of being selfish even come into play? That’s crazy talk! How is deeply missing the one true love of your life selfish?  

This stems from back in 2015 when a person I deeply admired sat me down and said he thought I was the most selfish person he had ever met. Let me tell you, my heart was already in a million pieces from the loss of my husband and father, but I swear this guy just stomped on the remaining pieces!  This man who I always saw as a father figure had a lot of nerve that day to speak to me that way in front of my child!  It was one year after my husband and father died. I was dealing with double grief while raising my daughter by myself with hardly any family or friends. What made him think this was the opportunity to say his thoughts and feelings about me? I’m not sure I was the one being the selfish in that moment. Nor was it appropriate to take the time and sit a widow down and tell her exactly what you think of her in a way that is not supportive or loving. It is deeply wrong and shame on him.  It just goes to show that when you speak to someone who is grieving, watch your words closely. Words hurt deeply, especially to a grieving person. I have never spoken to this man again nor do I ever plan to. He knew the damage he caused that day and whether he meant it out of love or not, his words were deeply damaging. The only reason I am bringing this up today is because, although it took me a long time to move past it, here I am five years later and that little voice popped into my head, “are you being selfish, Shell?” Words hurt and words stay for an exceptionally long time and you can never take back what you say. I have come a long way in six years since handling compound grief. I am sure that if this man would sit me down today and say those exact same words, well let’s just say many unkind words would fly out of my mouth and probably an inappropriate finger would wave as well.  I have learned to stand up for myself and speak when necessary. I would put this man would be put right back in his place and he probably would never speak to me again, and I wouldn’t care.

No, it is not selfish to feel your feelings of grief for a person you loved with your entire heart and soul. I took really amazing care of my husband for 15 months of his terminal cancer. I gave him and my daughter everything I had; they were first in my life at all times. I even had his family say things to me such as, “wow you really took your wedding vows seriously”. I always thought it was strange they would constantly say these things to me. Did they think I was going to run off and leave my husband to die with his extended family? Life with them was always weird and not so appropriate.  Yes, I did take my vows seriously, in sickness and in health until death do us part. I am just sad the later part came so early.

So yes, today I am grieving a little extra right now. Today I am missing my husband so much it hurts my heart. I know there will be tears at some point during the day and you know what? That is okay! Crying is healing. My husband was a great man. I would give anything to have him back. I would give anything for him to be here so our daughter could have her father back. I miss him. I will always miss him and today is the day where I miss him so much it hurts. People in our life have moved on and I know that missing my husband for them is a distance memory, but for Jay and I it is every single day. It is not easy, especially when the world has shut down for a bit and we can’t go out be amongst the living to celebrate the person I love the most in this world with the person who is my entire world, Jay. Jay is my sunshine in the darkness. Jay makes the world a better place and I am so grateful and blessed to have her as our daughter.  

I will end this post with the fact that as we are writing this, we are still not sure what we will do today. We are little bummed and very much missing our guy. Also, my advice to anyone who wants to talk to a grieving family is to have some empathy and watch your words closely. Words can help but they can also hurt and never be taken back. Be kind. Show love and empathy and if you have nothing to say, that is okay too. There are a lot of grieving people out in the world right now with the pandemic happening. To those who might be new to grief who just recently lost someone, you are not alone. We see you; we feel your pain. Surround yourselves with people who love you and support you. Remember if someone does say something that hurts you, it is okay to walk away from them. Protect yourselves, protect your heart and protect your grief. It’s your grief to share and handle in any way you see fit. Today I will listen to my grief, feel my grief and know that not everyday feels like today. Today is just one day. Today is what Jay and I call a griefy day. Happy Birthday my dear husband, we love and miss you very much.  

From both of us: Remember to be kind to yourself!

Aloha and gratitude,

Jay and Shell