The One Year Anniversary in Eight Acts

I. Facebook Photos - Sometime just before I fell asleep last night I started looking through my photos on Facebook, commenting on some, liking others. I did it again when I had a free moment earlier tonight. It was cathartic to look back over the events, places, and people who had been a part of my life with Joe. It was also healing to watch throughout the day as others interacted with the photos. Here are a few of the photos that struck me and why:

NLDS - October 4, 2006
Mets v. Dodgers/Mets win 6-5
WP: Guillermo Mota (LOL), LP: Brad Penny
This is my favorite Mets game photo of us ever.

I love this moment from our wedding day because it was natural and took place in our backyard. 

How could I NOT love the photo of us in the Mets dugout?
And this is particularly special because I was pregnant with Domani.

Joe with Domani at the beach for the first time. I'm just glad that Joe and his
Mom and her husband Ross were able to share this 1st together.

Domani's first baseball game was a Patriots game with Joe and Joe's Dad.
Baseball was a favorite pastime of Joe's and I'm glad they shared that 1st together.

Excuse the quality of this one - it's a photo of a framed photo that hangs in my house.
I took it while Joe was in the hospital in January 2010 and
posted it to his Facebook page. It's special.

My all time favorite "party" picture of Joe. He's got his go-to beverage and,
of course, a water gun.

II. The Bank - This morning I took care of some of that day-to-day business stuff that I never seem to have the time or emotional resolve to finish. With some help from family, I was able to tackle the final tasks that remained at the bank. I do have a few things on what seems to be a never ending list that need to be done but at least I feel like I am continually making progress. 

III. Go On - I didn't get to watch this week's episode of Go On last night when it aired so I was happy to have a few moments before my massage appointment to watch it. It went perfectly with a cup of tea and my chocolate chip muffin from Mendoker's. Once again, there was something in this episode that hit me like a ton of bricks. At the beginning of the show, the conversation in their support group turns to the end of the world (of COURSE it does with the Mayans and everything) so Matthew Perry's character Ryan King ends up telling the story of legendary college basketball coach Jimmy Valvano and his speech from the 1993 Espys. He talks about the 3 things named by Jimmy V that make for the perfect day - laugh, think, cry - and then sets out to pursue them.

Here's a powerful excerpt from that 1993 speech:

"To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. Number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special."

To "laugh, think, cry" I'll also add "push" because my feeling is that we should all push ourselves beyond what we think we can do in one area of our lives every day. Think of the amazing things that can come from a life of those four things.

You can watch Jimmy Valvano's speech and read the transcript here.

IV. The Massage - One of the smartest plans I made for today was booking a massage with Nancy, my regular massage therapist. She is awesome. And today's massage was really something special. During the final half hour, I found myself in the strange place of having a conversation with Joe. I know how that may sound if you have never experienced anything like it so I won't even try to explain it. I can only say that for me it was very real and it still is real a full twelve hours after it happened. The conversation went like this:

Joe: I didn't want to leave you, babe, but my body was ready.

Me: I know. It's ok.

Joe: I knew you'd be ok.

Me: We miss you, but we are.

It doesn't sound like much even now as I am typing it out, but that was it and for me it was profound. It brought lots of tears, a runny nose, and an overwhelming sense of love and peace. It was what I needed and I'm glad I opened myself up to it.

V. The Cemetery - This was probably the hardest part of the day for me. Joe's Dad happened to be there at the same time I went and I felt the tears welling up as soon as I turned the corner towards where Joe's crypt is located within the mausoleum. It was comforting to have someone else there to share in my sadness and I have to think that Joe would have wanted to see his family comforting each other through this grief we are all feeling. Even though it was hard, I'm glad I went to the cemetery today. For me, it has been a place to sit with my grief and, while sometimes painful, that has played a role in helping me move forward.

VI. A Five Mile Run - As a part of my half marathon training program, I put in a 5 mile run at a 10'04" pace on one of my most hilly routes. It was my fastest run of that length so far and physically I felt great. After the difficult trip to the cemetery, I also found it to be emotionally healing. There is just something about moving along the solace of the road that feels powerful and peaceful all at once. Going for a run always helps me feel centered in my day and in my life and that couldn't have been more true today.

VII. My World Is Empty Without You & The Afghan Whigs - What would today be without something Afghan Whigs-related? For the past several weeks The Afghan Whigs have been uploading to Facebook various YouTube videos of songs along with brief background blurbs on the songs, usually from lead singer Greg Dulli. The video that went up today was, of course, My World Is Empty Without You (yes, a cover of the song by The Supremes). It happens to be in my top 3 AW covers of all time and the one that I have listened to again and again since Joe died. I feel every piece of that song and somehow there it was right in my Facebook feed...today.

My World Is Empty Without You - Live by The Afghan Whigs

My world is empty without you, babe
My world is empty without you, babe

And as I go my way alone
I find it hard for me to carry on
I need your strength
I need your tender touch
I need the love, my dear
I miss so much

My world is empty without you, babe
My world is empty without you, babe

From this old world
I try to hide my face
But from this loneliness
There's no hiding place
Inside this cold and empty house I dwell
In darkness with memories
I know so well...

I only hope that somehow the band heard my Facebook plea to incorporate this song into their New Years Eve playlist. Hey, a girl can dream.

VIII. Many, Many Wonderful People - There are literally too many to mention, but today I received countless texts, emails, cards, FB posts and messages, tweets, hugs (both virtual and IRL), and phone calls. I am thankful for each one of them and the piece of my heart that each warmed. Once again, the support network that Domani and I enjoy is unbelievable and you all keep us going when it all feels impossible. 

I miss Joe. I miss Joe the husband and I miss Joe the father. There are many others who miss Joe too and I continue to find comfort in our shared grief and "Joe stories". We are bound by this wonderful man for as long as we live and that is a special thing. I am humbled by that bond and I am thankful for those who have been moved to offer their support without ever even knowing Joe. He truly was something special in that way.

Hurricane Sandy

I am finding it quite difficult to put this past week into words. I've been literally working on this blog post since last Tuesday. There's just been so much emotion. Fear. Sadness. Anxiety. Helplessness. Anger. Frustration. Thanksgiving. Relief. Pride. Hope. Grief. Lots and lots of grief.

And there was also sleeplessness. And physical pain. And eventually, even laughter. After 4 days of tension and fear and anxiety, on Wednesday, October 31st I finally laughed and laughed and laughed. Thank God for my son who decided to be a ghost for Halloween by throwing his blankie over his head and saying "BOO!". And thank God for Jon Stewart ("I guess he found that f*@king light switch, huh?"). Seriously. I needed those laughs like some really needy thing needs whatever it really needs.

On Sunday morning before the Hurricane, I drove home from a good friend's wedding in North Jersey with a mental list of things to do running through my brain like the Times Square Stock Ticker. It included, stopping for gas, putting away all the items in my backyard, picking up some extra flashlights, and then finally picking up my little man and watching the Giants play the Cowboys. The stock ticker in my brain was overwhelming because it was also clouded by a million other things I HAD to do - fill the bathtub with water, set up the pack n play in the basement, fill pitchers with drinking water, turn up the heat, put little bags of water in my freezer, run the dishwasher, pay my bills, stock up on ready to eat food, and on and on and on - but mostly it was overwhelming because I didn't have Joe there with me. I did get to some of those things, but not all of them and thankfully, we still survived. 

Domani and I spent Sunday afternoon, all day Monday and most of the day Tuesday in our house, witnesses to Hurricane Sandy. Our power started going off and on for short periods starting at about 6pm Monday.  For my little man, the loss of electricity was the worst part of the storm. He of course had no concept of the possibility that one (or more) of the 3 huge trees in our front yard could have fallen on our house. Or of the possible danger that comes with downed power lines. Or shattered windows. Or cars being swept up and dumped on top of us (ok, that last one was more from the imagination/movie category). In fact, until the lights started flickering, he was having a GRAND time.

Domani playing peek a boo with his blanket
 before the power failed on Monday evening.

Posing for a "lights on" photo.

The first time our lights flickered I thought that the little guy would NEVER STOP CRYING. My little tech kid. Thankfully, the first time it happened he was nearby me and I had a flashlight handy. The power came right back on and he quickly forgot the horror of being without power. He became brave again, wandering all over the house even though I tried to keep him close. The power flickered at least 3 more times before it finally went out for good. And I mean really for good. It would be nine days until we got it back - on Election Night the lights would shine again in my house. (Metaphorical if you ask me.) Once the power was officially out (a little before 8:00pm) it was time to make our way into the basement. Our little family of 3 had slept there during Irene too, unable to relax in our bedrooms with the winds howling outside. There was no way that my son and I were spending Sandy anywhere else but in the basement.

Camping out in the basement during the Hurricane.

Being the supermom that I am, I proceeded to bribe my anxious, crying son with M&Ms and a flashlight so I could have some time to pack whatever perishables I could into cooler bags. I made sure I had one that fit the bottle of white wine that I had been drinking. Hurricane priorities. (Please note that my son was safely eating M&Ms by that point.) Once I had packed up whatever I could we read his Elmo book on the iPad about 4 times, cuddled, turned on the sleepy time play list, and let nature take its course. 

Unable to sleep, I began reading R.A. Dickey's book Wherever I Wind Up and listened to all of the horrible noises outside which, of course, would have been much more horrible had I been upstairs. I poked my head upstairs one last time before I allowed myself to fall asleep. Even though I had heard some pretty loud crashes, I couldn't see anything from my kitchen windows that seemed amiss so I went back to the basement and fell asleep. The morning revealed some real damage although miraculously nothing on my property. I found out in conversations with neighbors later that EVERYONE was nervous about the possibility of my trees coming down. Certainly none more nervous than I.

My kitchen looks out onto my neighbor's house
where this happened.

Looking up the sidewalk from my house.
What's left of the tree that fell across our road.

Once it was clear that the power was not coming back on anytime soon, I made the decision that I would pack an overnight bag and my son and I would head over to my parents house and the promised land of power and heat. We left Tuesday late afternoon and the 9 mile drive took us over an hour. At least I had filled my gas tank on Sunday. I know that I cried at least twice during the ride, overwhelmed by the destruction I was only beginning to hear about and missing my husband more than I could ever express. The huge weight of responsibility for my son and for my household was just too much to carry without a release. I'm sure I cried again when I got to my parents' house and walked in to the warmth and light with Domani, although much of the time we spent there is a blur.

Domani certainly had a good time being at Grandmom and Grandpop's house.

Playing in the sunroom at Grandom & Grandpop's. His stay there also included
later than usual bedtimes, watching movies, and fort building.

There is no such thing as dessert WITHOUT
whipped cream at Grandmom & Grandpop's house.

On Saturday, my mother went with me to my house and we proceeded to throw out all of the unsalvageable items from my refrigerator and freezer. I felt sad. At the moment when we pulled out those chocolate bears with "Anne" and "Joe" written on them from last year's Thanksgiving dinner, I felt like I would just crumple to the floor in a heap. It wasn't from surprise. In fact, I had warned my mom that when she came across them, they were to be kept no matter what. But then she found them. And it felt like I had been punched in the gut. Oh, Sandy. How you stir up pain that I didn't realize was still there. We kept the chocolate bears. They remind me of the scene from True Blood where Sookie eats the last pie that her Grandma had made before she died. I feel like I will eat them on Thanksgiving in a private moment of remembering and grieving. Or maybe I won't. It's funny how a Hurricane can stir up more than just uprooted trees and floodwaters.

One of the best parts of the Hurricane for me was the time I was able to spend with my parents and Grandfather. I was there with them when we got the news that my Grandfather's sister had passed away after 94 full and wonderful years. There were many moments of watching my little guy play with his grandparents and his great-grandpa. And there was Scrabble. Confession: it's hard for me to play Scrabble now. It was a "Joe" game. In him I had found my Scrabble equal and it was always great playing with him (although I NEVER particularly liked losing to him). When we would play with my family, Joe and I would often be on a team and more times than not we were unstoppable. I miss that. With each word on a Scrabble board, I miss that. On Saturday night, I think I had some help from Joe. I beat my mom and dad pretty handily, which does not usually happen.

My Instagram explanation of this photo:
1) #Scrabble with the parents. Convinced I had a little
help from Joe - my letters were just TOO perfect.
Just ask my mom & dad.
2) I totally blew it by not challenging my dad on "roja" and "oz"
but I kicked his butt anyway.
3) I feel like I have to add that I would have TOTALLY challenged
him on "roja" but I LITERALLY missed it. I was reading an email
on my phone. D'oh.

I'm glad we played Scrabble. It was a well-timed distraction from the storm aftermath and connected me with Joe at a time when I needed that encouragement.

And then on Sunday, I ran. To the cemetery. It was a good run. I felt powerful. I felt in touch with myself emotionally and spiritually. It was everything that I have found running to be since I started doing it again after a 15 year hiatus. When I arrived at the cemetery right around the 3.5 mile mark I was already feeling heavy with my loss. I cried on that lonely bench in the mausoleum for a good ten minutes, allowing myself to feel whatever I was going to feel. Anger. Sadness. Jealousy. Loneliness. Fear. Why did I have to go through this scary storm without my Joe? What if I end up going through every one of my life's storms alone - single supermom extraordinaire who really would rather not have to be so super? Why my Joe? There was no voice from Heaven answering my painful questions.

But there was this when I was leaving the mausoleum:

I call this one "HOPE" because that is how it made me feel.

It didn't make me miss Joe any less and it didn't assure me that maybe there is someone out there to help share the "super", but it did bring some hope to my soul. And it gave me the physical strength I needed to run the 3 miles to Tastee Sub to pick up my lunch. Thankfully, they had power.

And, on Tuesday night, so did I.