One day a few months ago, my granddaughter Samantha was spending the night at my house. There was no occasion, just her and I hanging out together. She thinks it’s a big deal to do that and, truth be told. so do I. When she was brushing her teeth before going to bed, she opened the doors beneath the sink and stood on the bottom of the vanity so she could reach the faucet better. I told her I thought that was a great idea to do that and asked her how she learned that trick. She said, “Grandma showed me when she didn’t die yet.”
Those were Samantha’s exact words. I know that because I heard her say them and I will never forget them. Children are so pure. It didn’t matter to her that the proper way to say that was “Grandma showed me before she died.” Or “Grandma showed me while she was still alive.” It doesn’t matter how the phrasing goes, the message at the end is the same. Samantha lost her grandmother. Of all the ways to say it, I kind of like hers best.
She was a little shy about saying it. I think it was because she wasn’t sure how to verbalize it or exactly which words to use. It was the first time she mentioned Coleen’s death to me on her own and I’m sure she was a little uncomfortable with it. I like to think part of her shyness was to protect me. Like she wasn’t sure how I would react to hearing those words so she was being very gentle with me. Am I giving her too much credit for that? Maybe, but I don’t think so. Samantha is a very caring and sensitive little girl and she had an incredible grandmother to learn from. Just for not nearly long enough.
I’ll never forget the excitement Coleen and I had just before Samantha was born. She was our first grandchild and was a little late in arriving. It was a Monday morning and we were both at work waiting for the news. Lindsay’s husband Mike was keeping us updated with text messages and when the one came through saying “getting close,” Coleen called me. “I’m leaving now,” she said and of course I did too. We rendezvoused at the hospital and just as we were getting on the elevator, another text came from Mike saying “It’s a girl!” We met Samantha about 45 minutes later, when she was brand new. The joy and happiness on Coleen’s face as she held her daughter’s daughter for the first time will always be unforgettable to me. Coleen was a wonderful mother and I knew that she would be even better as a grandmother. It was the perfect role for her. Just for not nearly long enough.
There is a bond between women that few men understand. They have these incredibly honest and caring relationships with other where they can say anything without hurting anyone’s feelings. Usually. They can talk for hours about topics seemingly unrelated and somehow eventually return to whatever it was they started their conversation with. Coleen was like that with her sister and with Lindsay. Her bond with her daughter was very special and like so many things around us, even more special once it’s been taken away. Lindsay told me a few days ago that she was kind of jealous. She said there was no place to go to find a new mom. I could find another woman to be with as my companion and wife, but she could never find anyone who could be a new mom. That role can never be filled for her.
Wow. I had never thought of that. I was so busy thinking my loss was the greatest loss of all that I never considered the full consequences of my daughter’s loss. She is right. There is no e-harmony or match.com website where you can interview for a replacement mother. You only get one of those per lifetime. And sometimes their lifetime is not nearly long enough.
I don’t know what made me do it but just a few minutes ago I opened one of the drawers in Coleen’s dresser. It was a small drawer where she kept some mementos and paperwork. I rummaged around in there for a minute and came across a greeting card that she had purchased but never signed or sent. It was a beautiful card with a lengthy message of love from a mother to her daughter. From Coleen to Lindsay. I couldn’t read all of it because it is just so sensitive and delicate and it made me cry again. I wish Coleen had given it to Lindsay “when she didn’t die yet,” but I’m equally glad she didn’t. In this world of messages and signs and things found, is it preposterous to think that this card was meant to be read after Coleen was gone? That she is using this card to deliver a message of love to her daughter, telling her how much she loves her even though she can’t be with her. I don’t think it’s a stretch to think that. I think that’s exactly why I found it today. And exactly why I will give it to Lindsay.
I am very saddened today and a little angry thinking about all these things. Thinking about daughters and granddaughters and lost opportunities. I wish there was something I could do to make it all better. I am learning to deal with my demons of Coleen’s death and managing to slowly find my way. But when it’s about my daughter and her daughters and the loss they have suffered, I will always be angry that they were so cheated.
Of all the things I learned this week, two of them stand out. One is that there are some amazingly talented people among us. Two is that I am lucky to meet some of them.
I was invited to attend a press conference held by the Breast Cancer Coalition of Rochester (BCCR). Each year, they award grants to local scientists who are researching breast cancer cures. The press conference was to announce and introduce this year’s recipients of those grants and it was held at the offices of BCCR. The reason I was invited to attend was because of Coleen and the Executive Director of BCCR, Holly Anderson.
When Coleen and I talked about arrangements during the weeks that preceded her death, one of the decisions she made was about donations. She told me that she didn’t want flowers at her services but donations made for metastatic breast cancer research. When I asked her what organization would do that, she answered very succinctly, “I don’t know, find one.” I eventually contacted Holly because Coleen always spoke highly of her and her organization. I thought Holly could advise me of an organization that was specific to research and she said, “You know, Rob, we do that here. We can make sure all donations get spent on research.” She made the decision for me and memorial donations in Coleen’s name were sent to BCCR and directed to research. Exactly as Coleen wanted it. When they scheduled their awards ceremony, Holly was thoughtful enough to invite me to attend so I could witness the process of those donations turned into research.
I brought my daughter Lindsay with me for the 70 mile trip to Rochester. I had never been to the BCCR offices but Lindsay was there once for a program that Coleen brought her to. And Coleen was there many times. It was a regular stop for her in her role as Patient Services Director for the Leukemia Lymphoma Society and it was there that she became close friends with Holly. Lindsay and I arrived 30 minutes early and had a chance to meet some of the BCCR staff and also the grants recipients. Holly talked to us and showed us her office and the chair Coleen always sat in when she visited.
I had never been to any kind of press conference and was excited about this one. There were crews from two local television stations filming it and members of the press. It started promptly and Holly spoke first about what was about to happen and some of the goals of the organization. She said the number one goal was to lock the doors and go out of business because that would mean that their job was done. That a cure for breast cancer had been discovered and they could finally move from that challenge to another. She was eloquent. After the two $50,000 awards were made, each doctor had a few minutes to explain the project they would use the money on. Dr. Helen McMurray from the University of Rochester spoke of her intention of researching specific cells to unlock the secrets of metastasis. That was the exact target that Coleen wanted to hit.
I can not explain the range of emotion I felt as I sat and watched the ceremony. It was powerful to be present while Coleen’s donation dollars were transferred to such capable and passionate scientists so they can continue the research Coleen sought. So they can make more progress toward a cure. I was honored to be a witness to that. Of course, I was also terribly saddened, and remain so, by the demoralizing event that initiated those donations. I might call it bittersweet if that word was strong enough. It is not, though. The ultimate reward of being in attendance for such an uplifting occasion won the day for me and more than enabled me to overcome that sadness.
The atmosphere in the offices of BCCR is filled with enthusiasm and passion. The facility itself is beautiful and the staff of BCCR is made of extremely talented and knowledgeable people. Lindsay and I spent quite a bit of time talking with various staff and board members of BCCR and came away inspired by their accomplishments as well as their ambitions. I have always thought that once talent meets passion, remarkable things can get done. That is what is happening at the Breast Cancer Coalition of Rochester. It is a very impressive organization.
When we first met with Holly that day, she noticed the flower lapel pin I was wearing and commented on it. I wasn’t sure if she knew the significance of it so I briefly explained that it was a drawing Coleen had done and I had it made into lapel pins. Later, as we were leaving, I asked her if I could give her one of the pins and she happily accepted it. Not only did she accept it, but she put it on. Holly had an award of her own to accept that day given by the Rochester Business Journal. I saw a photo of Holly receiving her award on Facebook that evening. In it, she was still wearing her flower pin.
Can one woman’s death make a difference? Can a roomful of talent, passion, knowledge and desire make a difference? Or a bunch of people walking around with a cute little flower on their shirt? I don’t know. I’m just proud to be somewhere close to it all and trying to add what I can.
Sometime last December, I attended a bereavement seminar held by Hospice. The topic was how to handle grief and the holiday season at the same time. I didn’t count the people in the audience but I would estimate the attendance to have been around 50 or 60 people. Of those people, only four of us were men. I thought that was odd and when the seminar was over, I asked one of the facilitators about the ratio of men to women.
“Is it because men die first and don’t have a chance to attend things like this or is it that most men just don’t care to attend?” He said women are much more likely to reach out for help than men and that is why they are in the majority for things related to grief. Men just don’t handle their emotions and their grief very well.
I can attest to that. Besides the imbalance at that event, I have noticed a common thread with men in general. We are not good with things like death and dying. My father-in-law has not been the same since he lost his daughter. I can’t blame him for that. Nobody should lose a child. It is against everything that’s right and just. But what I do blame him for is not seeking out help so he can better cope with his grief. I don’t see him as much as I should but when I have, I try to talk to him about Coleen’s death. He seems very reluctant to talk about it to me and I wish he would because I know from experience how much it would help him to express his feelings and thoughts about his daughter. Not just about losing her, but about loving her.
Boys are no good at that. Nor are they any good at listening. Sometimes that’s what I need most. Someone to listen. A sounding board. They don’t have to understand everything I say or feel, just be willing to listen and hear me once in a while. Men like that are hard to find. I have friends and brothers and it’s hard to engage them in conversation related to my wife’s death. When I talk to them, which is fairly infrequent anyway, they seem uncomfortable hearing about my feelings and journey. It’s not like I need to talk incessantly about my loss, but once in a while I might slip in a reference or two to Coleen. That usually doesn’t lead to many follow up questions or comments. Contact with those guys is usually generated by me anyway. Like I said, boys do not excel in helping each other with grief.
Which is why I much prefer talking to girls. They get it. Girls have the emotion DNA that most boys are lacking. They are intuitive, sensitive and know how to cry. I have recently been accused of having an overabundance of female friends. It’s true. Most of the people I have become friendly with over the past six months are girls and there is a reason for that. I like them better than boys right now. The women in my life all listen to me when I talk. They ask how I’m doing and listen to my answer. They are interested in my interests and appreciate my talents. And they let me help them with some of their burdens. I can also listen to people and provide guidance and am much more likely to do that with women than men because men never open up enough to ask for help.
I am very comfortable having a lot of female friends. I get along well with most women and on the whole, I enjoy their company more than men. I have made new friends from new affiliations, from yoga, and from my support group. They are all women. I have also become quite friendly with a very special woman who was a friend of Coleen’s and I continue to meet new people from the places I keep putting myself in. What began as practitioner/client relationships with my massage and reiki therapists have both evolved into valued friendships. I can lean on many of these people for support and that doesn’t even include my daughters who almost have to listen to me. All the women in my life are important to me. When I have the need to be heard, I’d much rather be talking to girls.
Tomorrow is the six month anniversary of Coleen’s death. Tonight there is a full moon and it is in the zodiac sign of Libra which is also my sign. I don’t claim to know very much about astrology and zodiacs, especially when it comes to the moon being in one of them. But I thought there might be significance to the moon and Libra so I did a little research.
According to lunaf.com, “when the moon is in Libra, the desire for harmony, tact, justice, relationship with people, balance, impartiality, partnership increase. The moon in Libra stimulates our desire for harmony and balance. We begin to pay more attention to the people around us.”
That all sounds very Coleen to me. It also sounds like things I could use these days, especially the harmony and balance part. Regular readers here know of the relationship I have with the moon. It dates back to the night Coleen died when I came home to a brilliant, nearly full moon shining light upon me and my backyard. Since Coleen had such an affliction with light, always talking about how she was drawn to it, I took the moon’s presence that night as a signal from her that things would somehow be okay. I look for that comfort from the moon often, every time I see it. So I was very intrigued about tonight’s moon and what it’s positioning represents.
I will never forget the vision of Coleen looking out our bathroom window and taking in the beauty and the power of the stars and the moon. She would stand there and marvel at their light and then close her eyes and still somehow take in that same light without looking at it. Through another sense and her awareness she was able to receive that energy. She was also fond of standing before the window in our hallway or dining room when the sun was shining in to feel that light and warmth. Funny how I used to shake my head when she did that and now it makes perfect sense for her to have done that.
Today, on the eve of Coleen’s anniversary, I received a letter from the Breast Cancer Coalition of Rochester (BCCR). That is the organization that we asked people to donate to in Coleen’s honor in lieu of sending flowers. When Coleen and I were discussing matters during her last week or so, she told me she didn’t want flowers at her funeral. Instead she wanted donations to be made for metastatic breast cancer research. Specifically and only for that. Not to some pink ribbon waving charity to use as they wished, but to an organization that would direct those donations to Coleen’s cause. And that was to find a cure for the disease that took her so early. Neither of us knew at that time what organization that would be and after reaching out to the director of BCCR, I learned that they awarded annual grants to local recipients researching metastatic breast cancer.
The letter I received from BCCR today was an invitation to the press conference announcing and introducing this year’s grant recipients. I was invited because of the donations BCCR received on Coleen’s behalf that helped fund the two $50,000 grants. I am unbelievably touched by the invitation and honored to be able to attend. I cried when I read the letter and am still choked up every time I think about it. Coleen knew many people from this organization and I am so glad that we were able to help BCCR with their generosity to research. It is hard to find funding for that specific cause as most breast cancer donations for other national organizations are directed at awareness. Very little of those monies is targeted for metastatic research which is ironic since in most cases, breast cancer is not fatal until it metastasizes to other organs. Things need to change on that front and Coleen knew it which is why she was so specific in her request to me. I am very proud to be part of an occasion that speaks so perfectly of Coleen’s values and wishes.
(I’m going to return to the moon here briefly since I just went outside to check on it. I can report that it’s full, big, beautiful and bright. Radiant light and energy. Maybe the best moon I have ever seen.)
Tomorrow is the six month anniversary of Coleen’s death from metastatic breast cancer and I am reminded of things I have learned. I have met several people as a result of this website. One of those is a woman who I haven’t actually met but have exchanged several emails with. She lost her husband about three months before I lost my wife and she has faced many challenging days. She wrote to me about how hard it was when the six month anniversary came. She said it was the hardest day of all to that point. Another man I met through my support group observed the one year anniversary of his wife’s death this week. He was overcome with anxiety while talking about that last week. He is usually very accepting of his wife’s death and frequently mentioned that since she was in her eighties, her time had come. He was different though when he realized that there was a significant anniversary involved.
I can not imagine how will be on the one year anniversary. Just like I couldn’t imagine six months ago what life would look like today. How could I have possibly predicted all the life changes that have occurred? Nobody could have done that.
I got up early this morning while it was still dark. It is now March 18, the six month anniversary of me being without Coleen. I went to the bathroom window and looked at the moon. The sky was clear and dark, the moon was big, bright and beautiful. I wondered if I was looking for her or looking for answers. I think I might have gotten some kind of answer later on when the reiki appointment I was so looking forward to was cancelled. I thought having reiki on the six month anniversary day would be special but it was not to be. If I truly believe that there are still no coincidences, then I must take the good with the bad. I’m not sure if I should interpret the reiki cancellation as protection or punishment but I can’t help but think of it as some kind of sign.
They say that when the moon is in Libra, it is not a good time to make big decisions. That it is a better time for harmony, balance, justice and relationships than for decisions. That is perfect for me as I now have nothing to decide. And I am now in balance.
I am quickly approaching the six-month anniversary of Coleen’s death. In fact, it will be upon me in three short days. That will mean I have lived one half of a year without her. One half of a year as a widower. I remember back to the first few days of life after her and how hectic everything was. And I remember all the days between then and now and think about how far I have come in that time. It is remarkable. I am remarkable. I have many more steps to take, many lessons yet to learn. I thought this might be a good time for reflections of my journey. Maybe like some random thoughts I have about things at this point.
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The bereavement books, articles, and counselors tell you all about how you are feeling or how you will feel as a person surviving their spouse. They tell you all about the canned symptoms you will experience as you attempt to forget the life of your loved one. Your one and only. Maybe even your soul mate. They all talk about grief coming in stages like denial, guilt, depression, anger, and finally acceptance.
In my personal world of dealing with death, I have certainly encountered all of those factors and stages of grief. I can’t say in what order they came and sometimes they presented all at once or a couple at a time. They have all appeared with different degrees of difficulty but they have all been difficult. And continue to be. And I expect that will never go away.
Two nights ago I awoke suddenly from a sound sleep. It was sometime around 2:00 AM and I had a sickening thought in my head. I am never going to see Coleen again. I was very disturbed by that for not only was it a terrible admission to make, but I want to be passed that stage of grief. I don’t want to have to think the thoughts again that I have already come to terms with. Or at least thought that I had come to terms with. I’m not sure which one of the grief stages that fell into, but to me it fit at least three of them
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In many ways, I have tried to keep Coleen’s life alive. By talking about her, writing about her, thinking about her, This website started as a memorial, a tribute to her and our life together. My intent had always been to segue those memories into the story of my healing and my discoveries and my life after her death. I believe that is gradually happening although the process still frequently requires visits to the past.
One of the biggest hurdles for me to overcome has been enabling myself to let go of the idea that it is my responsibility to eternalize her. I do not want her forgotten. I do not wish for her legacy and accomplishments to get lost. I will always keep her memory alive with my children and grandchildren and perhaps some of that message will survive another generation or two. But in whatever is left of my life, I still have time for more living. The last thing Coleen would want from me would be to settle into a world of remorse and sorrow. She would not want this house to be made into a shrine. She would want to be remembered but not mourned.
Today in my bereavement support group, we talked about the legacy of our deceased spouse. Coleen’s legacy will live on in the hearts, values and memories of her children and grandchildren. And hopefully, great-grandchildren and generations after that. Her legacy will survive in the people she touched and helped in her various roles of aunt, sister, friend and social worker. Coleen probably won’t have a plaque hanging or statute standing in a park somewhere, but the impact of her life will be felt, and hopefully passed on, by many people. She did a lot of good in her time and helped many people in many ways. For that, she made the world a little better place.
My friend Barb pointed out to me yesterday that I was creating a legacy of sorts for my children and grandchildren by creating this website. She thought my writings and memories would be precious and interesting to generations to come. After all, how many people get to read about how much their grandfather loved their grandmother? I liked her take on that and frankly, had never thought of this little project of mine in that way. I hope what she says proves to be true. Many of my thoughts now are formulated from the perspective of a patriarch overseeing his family. Aware of their feelings, maybe even a little protective of them.
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Once I solve the equation that asks me to find the balance between the memories and the future, I will have found my peace. For that remains my greatest challenge. I want to keep Coleen alive in some way. I loved the life we had together. We have already said goodbye but I still can’t believe it’s over. As wonderful as I remember that life being, I must move on from those memories, especially the ones of losing her, and keep myself in a different place where I can make new memories. In many ways I have done that and continue to make more strides. But sometimes it’s as if I feel guilty getting too far away from the old memories for fear I might lose them.
Sometimes I think that six months is not long enough. That I haven’t grieved long enough to move on, that I’m being disrespectful to her memory and being insensitive to my children. But it seems like so much longer than six months. There have been many changes in my life and in myself during that time and I am encouraged to make new memories. Actually, I already have and none of them hurt and none of them made me forget about the old memories. It’s all about finding a balance.
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One week ago, we celebrated Coleen’s life on her birthday. Today, we are together as family once again to celebrate the third birthday of our granddaughter, Claire. This is another difficult day because it’s an occasion that Coleen should be attending but will be noticeably absent for. Claire won’t notice but I will. Three days from now will be the six month anniversary of Coleen’s death and that will obviously be a very difficult day. I don’t know what to do that day although I do have a reiki treatment in the morning and a meeting to attend in the evening. Those will help me be occupied but there will also be a lot of time in between. So far, the first half of March has brought many challenges. Spring is only four days away, though. That means a new season of rebirth, new growth, warmth and flowers. I am ready for all that. Here comes the sun. I am remarkable.