Technologically Advanced Grief

If Joe were still alive there would be no way that I would ever be allowed to write this post. He was much too shy and private for even this watered down version. But then again, if he were still alive there wouldn't be a need for me to write it.

Over the course of the past week, I have dealt with a facet of widowhood that I'm pretty sure was not a part of the paperwork just a generation ago. It started in March when I got the first notice from the Sperm & Embryo Bank of NJ that the annual storage fee on Joe's "account" was coming due. It's no small fee - $575 a year - to maintain the vials that were stored just prior to the start of his chemotherapy treatments.

Last year, when I got a similar notice 3 months after Joe died, I knew that it was too soon for me to make any decisions about what to do so I paid the storage fee and let it leave my mind.

This year's notice was perfectly timed to arrive just in time for my 35th birthday. It contained all the instructions I needed on how to transfer the account officially into my name (by this point they received notice Joe died) and the various options of continuing storage, donation, or destruction. It probably goes without saying that I wasn't very interested in dealing with "this" issue at "that" moment in my life. Between my birthday and my biological clock the emotions were just too overwhelming. 

So, to the bottom of my TO DO pile it went. 

Several subsequent notices always seemed to arrive when I was too busy at work or just too overwhelmed in general so they joined the initial one at the bottom of my TO DO pile. 

Before I knew it, the calendar was showing August and those nice people at SEBNJ finally decided I needed a kick in the pants. It was the "pay within 15 days or we are sending this to collections" notice that arrived a few days before my scheduled vacation time for work. I knew that I had run out of time and added "SEBNJ" to my already lengthy TO DO list for while I actually had some time off from work.

On Monday, August 5, I called SEBNJ and managed to hold it together through the 5 minute conversation with a nice woman named Sandy. She expressed her sympathy for my loss and explained to me what I needed to do in order to transfer the account officially into my name and then to officially give permission for them to destroy the vials if that was going to be my decision. She said that she would email me the instructions she had just given me along with all the necessary paperwork. After we hung up I cried.

Does anyone realize that this decision feels a little bit like your husband DYING AGAIN? There's this piece of him (that I happen to know helped create a pretty damn amazing kid not so long ago) that's still here. On earth. With me (sort of). And I'm completing a NOTICE OF DESTRUCTION for it?!

But then, I caught sight of a photo of Joe I have in the house and I pictured what he would have to say about all of this. While we didn't talk specifically about what would happen to these vials if he died, I knew my husband and the relationship we had. Every time I have contemplated this issue I have come to the same conclusion and have had the same visual of Joe laughing and saying "what are you crazy? Don't give them any more money. You have a life to live with Domani."

And so the next day, I faxed over the documents to change the account to my name. After a couple of days, I made the arrangements to have the Notice of Destruction notarized. It was Sunday and I'm quite sure that Domani had no idea what was going on when we went to visit our family friend after church. He was more talkative than normal and I was feeling peaceful after being caught by the hymn Trust and Obey during church. There was something about it that brought me calm in spite of my fears of the future. Many of those fears are wrapped up in my current relationship situation that has left me questioning whether I will actually find someone who is as interested in me as I am in him, whether I will find someone who wants to have kids, and whether any of that will happen with the timing that would make it all possible. That was what was weighing on my mind on Sunday just before I signed the Notice of Destruction and why these words especially got to me:

Not a shadow can rise, not a cloud in the skies, But His smile quickly drives it away;

Not a doubt nor a fear, not a sigh nor a tear, Can abide while we trust and obey.

Not a burden we bear, not a sorrow we share, But our toil He doth richly repay;

Not a grief nor a loss, not a frown nor a cross, But is blest if we trust and obey.

But we never can prove the delights of His love, Until all on the altar we lay;

For the favor He shows and the joy he bestows are for them who will trust and obey.

I thought of other dark periods in my life and what it felt like then to be unsure of the future and then I realized how richly I was blessed out of that darkness. There was no question in my mind that this was the right decision, but I needed the courage to do it in the midst of uncertainty about my own hopes and dreams for the future. 

On Monday, August 12, I sent the notarized Notice of Destruction to SEBNJ. That night I had a helpful conversation with Joe's mom which brought me even more peace about the decision. Today, Thursday, August 15, I received a letter from SEBNJ acknowledging its receipt and specifying my pro-rated balance due. After opening the notice, I cried at the finality of it. Domani was there to give me a sweet hug and kiss and to "make me smile" as only he can do. Thank God for that kid.

So, now as the clock ticks past midnight and the date changes to August 16, I'm thinking back to this day 5 years ago when Joe and I were married. There are more tears as this has been a hard week and getting through tomorrow won't be easy. But I'm also right now remembering the "conversation" I had with Joe and smiling just a bit about the fact that I'll be using the balance of the money I won't be paying to SEBNJ this year to take Domani on the road for a Mets game in September. I think Joe would approve.

Five Days of Baseball Heaven in NYC - All Star Game 2013

We went back to Citifield this past Saturday for the first time since the All Star break and the only way I can describe it was surreal. You see, the five days that began with Fanfest and ended with the All Star Game on Tuesday night were about as close to baseball heaven as I think I will ever come and it was strange returning to "our" ballpark for "just another game". We had a lot of fun at Saturday's game and thankfully the Mets managed to squeak out a win against those rival Phillies, but it all just made me think wistfully of the events of the week that had just passed. I found myself glancing up towards section 510, tearing up at the leftover ASG signs and souvenirs, and flipping through the photos in my phone from the various events and games. It was no contest - those five days and everything that came with them were simply some of the most fun I've had in the last year and a half.

On Friday, I was able to bring Domani along with his cousins and his Uncle Derek to the All Star Game Fanfest at the Jacob Javits Center in NYC. We assumed that we would spend a few hours there and then have to sweep the bored kids away and return home, but we ended up spending the WHOLE day checking out as many of the exhibits as we possibly could and having a blast together. We each posed for our very own baseball cards and practiced our aim by *attempting* to throw baseballs through tires (we even got a few in). I got my ASG program autographed by John Franco. The kids got free baseballs, beads, and balloon animals/flowers/swords. We got to see items on display from the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown and got our picture taken with the World Series Trophy. We ate lunch and snacks and, of course, bought souvenirs. We packed an awful lot into 6 hours.

That smile is me visualizing the Mets bringing this to Queens in a few years (2? 3?)
Ya gotta believe, right?

Joe would be proud of his niece's Mets shirt for sure.

Posing for a quick photo by Matt Harvey's "locker" at Fanfest

Saturday had its own All Star Game festivities although this time it was off to Prospect Park in Brooklyn with my cousin Mike for the ASG 5k. We had an awesome cheering section - his girlfriend Kristin and my friend Scott - and despite the humidity I managed to beat my previous best 5k time by more than a minute and a half, finishing the course in 26:41. It was a fun race and I'm so glad I got to run it with Mike who I don't get to see very often. We already have plans to tackle another 5k soon and although I'm sure nothing will quite compare to getting a send off from Mr. Met I see another PR in my future as the weather cools off.

With Mike after the race

After the 5k I had time for a massage with Nancy before our church's annual Blueberry Festival. And then it was straightening up the house and very little sleep in anticipation of an early morning run to the Philadelphia airport to pick up my friend Justin who was flying in for the rest of the All Star game activities. We picked him up a little before 9am and could only coax Domani away from the airport by reminding him that we were going to Citifield. It was Sunday and that meant the Futures game and the Legends & Celebrity Softball Game. I was a little nervous about driving in to the game since I had been getting basically daily emails from the Mets telling us that we should take the train, but I figured that since we were traveling with a full car, including the little guy it was worth attempting the ride in. In the end, it was the easiest drive in and out of Citifield I've ever had. (Which was more than made up for on Saturday when some guy who wasn't paying attention sideswiped us on 278 in Brooklyn while we were driving home from the Mets v. Phillies game!)

Sunday was a hot day and we were relieved to discover that even though our seats were high up, they were under cover. We had a nice view just off to the right of home plate and were mercifully out of the hottest rays of the sun. As a result, we were able to tough it out through the Futures game AND the softball game that followed. It was a great afternoon and special because I was able to bring Domani along, but my favorite part was when the Mets legends were announced for the softball game. I couldn't help but think how much Joe would have loved watching Darryl Strawberry, Dwight Gooden, Mike Piazza and John Franco take the field in that moment and I was especially moved by the tribute to Gary Carter, who passed away from brain cancer last year. And of course, it didn't hurt that Piazza got himself a nice little homerun so we could cheer like old times. So much fun!

At Sunday's games with a sleepy Domani

By the time we got home on Sunday we were all pretty tired, but it wasn't long before Justin and I were on our way back to Citifield for the Home Run Derby. After a scary incident with a parking deck elevator that just about closed with Justin's arm in it (welcome to New Brunswick!) we made the rest of the trip in without any problems (the problems would come on the trip home!)

I wasn't quite ready for the emotional roller coaster, though, that was waiting for me upon my arrival at Citifield. As I stepped down from the train station stairs and walked towards the stadium there was a VFW vet selling poppies and I immediately thought of my Grandpop. I walked around a little aimlessly as I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes - thinking of him, thinking of my Grandmom who was the biggest Mets fan of all in our family, thinking of those two things together. I was just thankful to have a friend there with me and somehow it helped keep me from completely losing it. But then, for some cosmic reason I will never understand, there was more. 

We walked inside the stadium and no sooner had we scanned our tickets and passed through the turnstile then we were handed a bag with goodies. One thing - a lanyard to hold our ticket - was pretty exciting as Justin had just been talking about buying one the day before. And now...no need - FREEBIE! But in midst of the lanyard excitement I noticed something else...Stand Up 2 Cancer was EVERYWHERE. There was a table in the Rotunda. There was a sign in our bag for us to fill in the name of someone we "stand up for". There was a guy (or a gal, I honestly can't remember) in a SU2C shirt thrusting a marker at us so we could write in the name on our sign. Damn it, I stand up to cancer every day. Every day when I get out of the bed that I used to share. Every day when I look in my son's eyes. Every day when I kill a stink bug or take out the garbage or empty the basement dehumidifier. Why do I have to do it here TOO?! I grabbed the marker, took a deep breath, looked around the Rotunda at this place we didn't get to visit together for nearly enough years and wrote his name. Once again I was glad I had a friend with me because that was one long escalator ride and subsequent walk up to our seats.

Once I was over the initial shock of having SU2C as a constant fixture for the night I decided it was actually a nice thing. The moment when they had everyone stand up with their signs was moving and it was a special way to think about Joe during an event that I know he would have loved. There was nothing like being a part of the Citifield crowd cheering for David Wright when he was announced or watching Yoenis Cespedes smack homer after homer during his 17 home run first round. I've enjoyed many home run derbys from the comfort of my couch, but there was just no comparison to this experience. The ballpark felt electric and I knew I was lucky to be sharing it with my cousin Mike, my Uncle Kevin and Justin. The whole night was so much fun, even from up in the "cheap seats".

David Wright is announced at the Home Run Derby to a cheering crowd

With my cousin Mike and Uncle Kevin

Citifield at sunset on the night of the Home Run Derby, 7/15/13

The journey home that night was a rough one. We had taken the LIRR to Citifield with ease but as we approached the station to take the train back to NY Penn Station it became obvious that something was definitely wrong. As it turned out, the 7 train was shut down due to a fire on the line so EVERYONE was trying to take the LIRR. Thankfully, I had something to distract me while we were waiting on the platform for the train - Matt Harvey! During the Derby, a friend had emailed me the YouTube video of Matt Harvey interviewing New Yorkers about Matt Harvey, so I took this as a chance for a good laugh. I ended up watching the video that night, once the next morning, and several times thereafter, laughing until I cried each time.

If nothing else our ride back to Penn Station was entertaining as a group of drunks on the train serenaded our car with their own stirring rendition of the national anthem. Unfortunately, even the dose of patriotism didn't help us make it to NY Penn in time for the earlier train to NJ so we ended up having to wait until 1:20am to head back to Jersey. The only upside was that it gave us some time to get a head start on our planned adventure for the next (really SAME day) - APPLE PHOTOS!

I call this my "1am crazy" Apple photo.
With the Boston Red Sox Apple at the Party City on West 34th.
Note the Home Run Derby LANYARD. So exciting.

We got home well after 3:30am and eventually got some sleep. Then, it was time for the All Star Game Apple Adventure. In celebration of the ASG being in NYC there were decorated apples placed throughout the city - one for each MLB team, one each for the Brooklyn Dodgers and the NY Giants, one for each of the two leagues, and one for the ASG - 35 in total. There was an Instagram contest running which you were entered if you posted at least 15 photos with the apples so Justin and I set that as our goal. (We found out after the fact that the contest ended Monday at noon, but oh well!) We had just about 3 hours from the time we arrived in NYC until the time we met Karen and Derek, the rest of our ASG crew, at NY Penn, but we managed to pay a visit to all of the following apples:

1) Boston Red Sox - Party City 223 West 34th Street between 7th & 8th Avenues

2) Arizona Diamondbacks - Modell's 1293 Broadway at 34th Street

3) Chicago Cubs - Staybridge Suites 340 West 40th Street between 8th & 9th Avenues

4) NY Yankees - Modell's 234 West 42nd Street between 7th & 8th Avenues

5) Chicago White Sox - Toys R Us 1514 Broadway at 44th Street

6) Miami Marlins - Grace Building West 43rd Street at 6th Avenue

7) Brooklyn Dodgers - Grand Central Terminal at 42nd Street

8) New York Giants - Grand Central Terminal at 42nd Street

9) Houston Astros - Westin 212 East 42nd Street between 2nd & 3rd Avenues

10) Milwaukee Brewers - Office of the Commissioner 245 Park Avenue at 46th Street

11) Toronto Blue Jays - Intercontinental 111 East 48th Street at Lexington Avenue

12) Seattle Mariners - Nintendo 10 Rockefeller Plaza at 48th Street

13) NY Mets - SNY 1271 Avenue of the Americas between 50th & 51st Streets

14) Detroit Tigers - Duane Reade 1657 Broadway between 51st and 52nd Streets

We also went by the NYC Public Library to see the Apples from the National League and the American League, but they had already been removed. As it turned out they had been taken to Citifield so that the players could sign them. All of the apples are now being auctioned off (including the league ones signed by all of the ASG players) here. As a bonus at the library though we did get to see their Honus Wagner baseball card so that was definitely worth the stop. The card, by the way, was much smaller than either of us imagined it would be (just in case you were wondering).

So, without further ado...a sampling of our Apple pics...

My attempt at a badass pose with the Brewers Apple.

No, Justin, the Miami Marlins Apple does not need security.

Corporate branding at its best/worst.
Geoffrey jumped right in this photo.

If I had a broom, I would have been sweeping this Apple away.

Ah, finally I get to pose with the Mets Apple!

I can't believe I actually took a picture of him doing this.

After our Manhattan Apple Adventure, we headed back to NY Penn Station to meet Karen & Derek who were arriving at 5:30 to join us on the LIRR train to Citifield. The four of us together made for a fun crew - Derek for the Red Sox, Karen for the Yankees, Justin for the Marlins and me for my Mets - a perfect balance between American League and National League with some good rivalries thrown in. Once we arrived at Citifield, there was the disappointment of not getting another lanyard (What? NO All Star Game LANYARD?!) and then, after having a beer with Derek and Karen it was up to good old section 510. I could definitely feel the emotions welling up as I looked around the stadium at all the fabulous orange and blue and took in the beautiful night. We were at the All Star Game. At Citifield.

The pre-game ceremony was tough for me, mostly because every piece of it made me think of Joe. I always get a little choked up during the National Anthem at baseball games, but there was definitely something special about this moment that really got me. Karen noticed and I'm glad she was there to give me a hug like only a sister can. When Tom Seaver aka "The Franchise" came out to throw the first pitch the tears were freely flowing because at that point I couldn't help but put myself back in my living room watching the final pitch at Shea Stadium with Joe in 2008. We were newlyweds and of course had no idea what was ahead for us, but my eyes were filled with tears then too as we watched Seaver throw that final pitch to Mike Piazza to close out play at the stadium where we had made so many amazing memories together.

Tom Seaver prepares to throw out the first pitch.

When Seaver threw that pitch to David Wright before the start of the All Star Game it did feel like Joe was there too. All those memories we had from Shea and then Citifield were somehow wrapped up in that moment. I have found many paths for healing in the midst of my grief since Joe died and baseball has definitely been one of them. For that, I am thankful beyond words. A ceremonial first pitch and a hug from my sister - two simple things that made a big difference on a night I will never forget.

And then, the game actually started! I can't begin to describe how exciting it was to watch Matt Harvey start the All Star Game at Citifield, even if he did start it by giving up a double and then hitting Robinson Cano. I'm glad he was classy about it and that he settled down for the rest of his appearance - giving us 3 strikeouts to cheer for and not giving up any runs. I do love me some Matt Harvey. And some David Wright. On a night that was short on hits for the National League, our hometown hero managed to notch the 2nd hit for the League, giving all of us in orange and blue a little something to cheer about. Even though I was a little disappointed that the American League pulled out the win, I'm glad that the 4 of us watching from section 510 got to see some good moments.

Justin saw his lone Marlin pitch a perfect 6th inning.

Karen got to watch Mo Rivera pitch in what will most likely be his last All Star Game ever. Derek got to say that he sat while everyone else stood while Mo Rivera came out to pitch in what will most likely be his last All Star Game ever. 

We all had a great time.

With Derek

With Justin

With Karen

And just like that...it was over much too quickly. The American League won 3-0. It was time to catch the LIRR back to NY Penn Station and wait again for the 1:20am train back to Jersey. Another late night that was well worth the sleep we sacrificed.

Justin and I did manage to nab our final Apple shot after the game when Karen snapped a photo of us next to the All Star Game one outside the stadium. We may have missed the contest deadline, but at least we got our 15.

With Apple #15 at Citifield!

Mommy, I want to go see the Mets today!

It started with him wanting some Mets popcorn. First thing this morning.

Then he was explaining how he wanted to go to Citifield. 

Mommy, I want to go see the Mets today!

But we couldn't possibly go today. I had to work today. Even though it was a Sunday. Even though I wish I could play hooky.

Even though Zack Wheeler was pitching his first home game. We couldn't possibly go today. I had to work today.

I felt the tears in the corners of my eyes as I proceeded to get myself ready for work. He was crying too. Then, I picked him up to console him and the conversation got more difficult.

I miss Daddy.

I want to see the Mets with Daddy.

He pointed at a family photo that hangs on my bedroom wall.

And then we were both crying.

And then it was...It's ok, mommy.

Daddy is in heaven. He is ok. He's with Great Peepaw.

And then later in the car while we were driving to my mom's house, he was pretending to talk to her on the phone - Hi Meemaw. I miss Daddy. 

Yeah, kid. I do too. Especially on days like these.

Superman: Man of Steel Hope

It's been out for two weeks so it was really about time that I saw it. There was just something about going to see THIS movie though that I knew was going to be extra hard. It was, after all, Superman. And for reasons that I could probably never do justice in a blog post, Superman is special. Joe was my Superman.

The tattoo I got a few months after Joe died.

So I revert for a moment to an old blog post to tell my story about the meaning of Superman. The very first post I wrote...

Superman

Written October 13, 2011 2:12pm

Many times over the past year and a half I have told Joe that he is my Superman and I think there is no time that has been more true than these past few weeks. After powering through intense radiation on his spine, he had surgery this past Tuesday to deal with the accumulating fluid in his lung. In the end, more than 2 liters of fluid was drained both through the surgery and using the catheter that was placed. (Imagine, a 2 liter bottle of soda - that's a LOT!) It's no wonder that he is now breathing easier!

In the midst of it all, we celebrated a very HAPPY 1ST BIRTHDAY with our little man and enjoyed all the love and support from family and friends. Domani enjoyed his birthday cupcake on Tuesday although he seemed more interested in eating his party hat (he'll learn)! The time has just gone by so quickly and we are looking forward to celebrating with the whole family this Saturday.

Joe started back with his chemo treatments today after a long hiatus for his radiation. Here's to hoping that this helps him find relief for some of his symptoms and that he is able to fully enjoy the party on Saturday.

Back to the present day and the fact that the man who normally would take me to see the new Superman movie is no longer here with me. Earlier this week, I was in Orlando for work and I met up with Joe's cousin Tony after he got out of work late one night. We found ourselves at Universal CityPlace standing in front of the movie theater and wouldn't you know it...neither of us had seen Man of Steel. And there was an IMAX showing in 40 minutes. OF COURSE that was what we were going to do.

I'm so happy that I saw Man of Steel with him because I needed that connection with Joe when I saw it. When Joe and I went to see Superman Returns in 2006, he was healthy. We had been dating for awhile but we weren't engaged yet. Our world was very different. 

I warned Tony ahead of time that I would almost definitely cry at the movie. And cry I did.

Not just at the obvious connections to Joe and the fact that this was "Superman" without him. But also at the poignant scene in the beginning where Jor-El and Lara say goodbye to their infant son and shed tears over all of the things they will not get to see him do. I know a little something about shedding tears over things a father won't get to see a son do. I feel like I do it almost every day. And then there were the flashbacks towards the end when Clark's mom is talking about him becoming the man his dad always knew he would be and you see the young Clark running around with a cape on his back. Just like my little guy does. Oh how sweet. And bitter.

It was hard and wonderful at the same time. In this movie there is a scene with Lois and Superman where he explains that the "S" on his chest means "hope" on his planet. That line has sat with me ever since. I definitely didn't realize when I was getting my Joe memorial tattoo that I was also permanently marking myself with hope. I like that more than words can say.

Father's Day with the Mets

I made the decision about what to do on Father's Day months ago and the honest truth is that I made it haphazardly without any thought at all. I selected Sunday, June 16 as one of the dates in my Mets ticket pack without even making the connection that it would be Father's Day, but as I look back on today I feel like there was definitely a case of divine intervention in my supposedly random ticket plan selection.

Up until last week I wasn't sure who was going to come with my little guy and me to the game since I assumed most people would be busy with other Father's Day plans. I was preparing myself for the possibility that it would just be the two of us. But sometimes life happens and both of my parents ended up being able to join us for the game. What a blessing that turned out to be!

We cheered like good fans through 8 1/2 innings of uninspiring Mets baseball.  By the time we came to the bottom of the 9th I have to admit that I wasn't feeling like we had much of a chance. The Mets had only 2 wins so far in June. They had plenty of scoring opportunities already in today's game, but couldn't manage to put even a single run across the plate. And then there was the pitiful display of fielding in the 5th inning which has blooper reel written all over it. Nieuwenhuis, who came to bat with two on and  1 out in the bottom of the 9th, hadn't hit a major league homerun since June 23, 2012. He had just been called back up again from AAA. The causes for hope were slim.

Even so, it had been a nice day with my son and my parents. My Dad and I got excited when we saw my tweet which mentioned him up on the Citifield scoreboard. We had a blast watching my little popcorn machine make quick work of his giant box of popcorn. I was even bold enough to tell my Dad that the Mets never lose when I get something up on the big screen. (Surely that was destined to be a jinx!) It had been a fun day and I wanted to remember it. So just before the bottom of the 9th with the Mets down 0-3, I moved over to where my Dad was sitting and posed for this photo. 

We were having a nice time together in spite of the Mets lackluster performance. And then Marlon Byrd led off the inning with a homerun. The apple went up. My son was on cloud nine. We all were having just a little bit more fun.

Duda walked. Buck came up with a hit. Quintanilla (whose name my son LOVES to say) advanced the runners on a bunt. All of a sudden they were looking like a real major league team. I almost felt bad for being a cranky Mets fan and changing the lyrics in Take Me Out to the Ballgame to "if they don't win, it's the Mets". I remember mouthing something to the effect of "Joe, there is no way this is going to happen, is there...just as Nieuwenhuis was stepping to the plate. 

He took the first pitch for a ball and then wouldn't you know it, he cranked that second pitch firmly out to the Pepsi Porch. The familiar strains of Takin' Care of Business started filling the ballpark and tears just started streaming down my cheeks. I hope my parents don't mind my saying that they both got teary too. This was an emotional day not just because Joe wasn't there, but also because my mom just lost her Dad two weeks ago. This was a sweet and hopeful ending to a day that came with a lot of sadness. (The little guy cried too, but that was because he was shocked at all the noise from the homerun. Once he realized it meant that the Mets won, he was fine.)

Those Mets who in the 5th inning couldn't even seem to manage a simple game of catch thrilled us all with a bottom of the 9th we could smile about all the way home. Or in my case, all the way to the cemetery because after that I definitely needed to have a "chat" with my little guy's Dad. As is the case these days when I go I didn't spend a long time there, but it was long enough to give his brother a few hugs, shed a few tears, and acknowledge how thankful I am for the lessons of hope he has always brought into my life - and that, somehow, even though he is no longer here with us physically, he still brings.

June 5, 2013 is a Lot of Things

June 5, 2013. National Running Day. My grandfather's funeral. Eighteen months since Joe died.

I've been seeing the buzz about National Running Day all over my Twitter feed and from my Facebook friends for the past few days. Discounts on races. Everyone talking about how long they will be running and who is going to be running with them. Inspiring images.

The only thing that was on my mind with regard to June 5th was the fact that I would be burying my beloved Grandpop on the same day that I was marking 18 months since my Joe died. To be frank, it sucked.

This morning, we said our goodbyes to my grandfather at the same funeral home in the same room where I said my final goodbye to Joe. The VFW had left a red poppy in his casket as a part of their ceremony the evening before which brought up lots of emotions for me as I paid my final respects. Church was tough too - again, it was the same place where we had Joe's funeral service. Also, again it was a beautiful service. My sister Karen and my cousin Suzanne gave beautiful eulogies and I found great comfort in my friend Heather's singing of the 23rd Psalm. We sang Amazing Grace, For All the Saints, and O Beautiful for Spacious Skies. As much as particular elements brought me back to Joe's service, it was uniquely Grandpop and truly moving on its own.

Since Grandpop was to be buried at the cemetery in Kingston, we were able to walk from the church to the cemetery, making for a memorable procession down Main Street. He would have gotten a kick out of it.

Walking from the church to the cemetery.

Once at the cemetery, it was the playing of Taps that affected me the most. It brought me back to my Grandpop Luck's funeral, a time when Joe was still in my life to bring comfort. After the brief service at the Kingston Cemetery, Domani asked me if we were going to the cemetery. It took me a minute to realize that he was talking about the cemetery where his dad is buried. His comment made me realize that perhaps what I needed to do to really find some peace today is to spend some time there.

So, as it turned out, it was running to that cemetery on this National Running Day which in many ways saved me. After the little guy and I had our much needed naps, we went over to my parents house for dinner and I took off for an emotionally-charged run. When I left, I wasn't sure if I would actually make it to the cemetery, but in the end it was 7.5 miles that started at my Grandpa's house, looped to the cemetery and back. It was a healing run that very fittingly ended with the song "Heaven" blasting through my iPhone. I couldn't have planned it better if I had timed out the songs myself.

Goodbye to Grandpop Kady

I had no idea when I wrote this blog post from Brasil that I would be sitting here two weeks later going through all the fresh pain and longing of grief with a new loss. The reality started to unfold as soon as I landed in New York City on the morning of May 20th and reconnected with the world via my cell phone.  There was a text from my Dad which was followed by an email. The news was not good. While I was preparing to depart Brasil the previous afternoon, my Grandpa was being rushed to the hospital and was undergoing lifesaving emergency surgery on his stomach. At age 91, it was risky, but if nothing else my grandfather was a fighter and fight he did. I am so thankful that I landed to news that he had pulled through the surgery ok and not to something more suddenly devastating. It was jarring news for sure, but at least he was alive.

Once he was up for visitors I made a trip over to the hospital. It happened to be Memorial Day weekend so while Domani and I were out that morning we made a donation to the VFW and picked up a poppy to bring to him. For as long as I can remember, getting a poppy and sharing a moment with the veteran selling them has been a part of my Memorial Day weekend tradition and that is because of my grandfather. It just seemed right to bring him one this weekend and the smile on his face when I showed up with it let me know that I was right. I didn't spend long in the room visiting with him, but it was enough to let him know I love him and to hear the same from him. I was so thankful that I got to do that on what was always a special weekend to him and one where I would always make sure to spend some time with him.

Memorial Day 2010 at the VFW with Grandpa

On Wednesday I found myself once again traveling for work when I got more bad news about Grandpop's condition. I had just arrived in upstate NY for a meeting to hear that he had an episode with his pacemaker, that his nutrition level was low, and that his lungs were filling with fluid. It was already Wednesday evening and from the description of his condition it didn't sound like he had much time left. I made the drive home on Thursday morning with a heavy heart, stopping off in Binghamton, NY for a 5 mile run in a beautiful park there. Running is an outlet for me during times like these and I needed the strength and clear thinking to get me through what I knew would be some tough times ahead. 

It was hot and sunny and the 5 miles did not come easy but there was one moment in particular that lifted my spirit. About halfway through the run I noticed a small pine tree off to the side of the path. It was decorated with flags and other red, white, and blue memorabilia for Memorial Day. It immediately made me think of Grandpop. As I was running by that spot, I was joined by a beautiful yellow butterfly which, thanks to the lyrics from Vetiver's song I Must Be In A Good Place Now, made me think of Joe. I felt a sense of peace and connection - exactly the clarity I was looking for when I set out. When I returned to my car I snapped a photo to remember the beauty of the run.

After my run in Otsiningo Park in Binghamton, NY

That night I was able to go to the hospital after work to visit Grandpop. I could tell that he was having a hard time physically, but his face still lit up as he recognized those of us who were able to come to visit. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. His obvious joy at the touch was something I will never forget. I told him that I love him and he told me how much he loved me and how good I was to him. It was a very special moment. Remembering back to when Joe passed and what that moment was like, I then simply wished him peace and told him that he would be ok. Shortly after 8am the next morning I received word that he had died.

As it turned out, at the moment Grandpop passed, Domani was playing with his Matchbox cars on the floor of our kitchen. As I often do, I had asked him where the cars were going and I was overwhelmed when I pieced it all together later that his response had been "heaven".  I am always amazed by how in tune kids can be to these things and how we are often just too caught up to pay attention to the thin veil between heaven and earth. Somehow, Domani was in a special moment even in the midst of his play.

The days since Grandpop's passing have been busy and tough. One of the hardest parts of walking through this loss has been not having Joe there to support me. He was my rock when my Grandmom Kady died and even though we weren't dating at the time he was a special support when my Grandpop Luck passed away the following year. When his Grandma died in 2009, we were both heartbroken but having each other helped us through the grief. From the obituary to the photo boards for the viewing to the pall bearers of which he would have been one, there are constant reminders of Joe being missing from this family equation and it makes the sting just a little harsher. When Domani talks about his "Great Peepaw" being in heaven, it is in the context of being there with his Daddy and that is enough to rip any mother's heart out.

The next few days will be tough. But there are many things for which I am thankful. A friend who would run a 10k with me in 90+ degree heat this morning so I could wrap my head around my emotions. The friends who watched Domani while I did it. Amazing parents who in the midst of their own grief still manage to take care of me. Co-workers who understand that the tasks on my to do list are not the most important things in the world right now. Cousins who will stay up late and laugh over drinks. Sharing wine and a good meal with friends. Wonderful photos of my Grandpa and the memories that go with them.

Thanksgiving at my parents' old house in Hamilton.

August 16, 2010

Veterans Day at Applebees - November 2009