Band of Gold Redux & Superbowl Reflections

I thought it was gone forever and I was ok with that. After all, the ring was not Joe - it was just a thing. My real loss was my husband, my best friend, my son's father, and I live with that loss every day. I was sad when I lost his ring, but in the grand scheme of loss it was minor and I hadn't given it a thought in at least a month. But here I sit, typing away at this blog with Joe's wedding band back on my finger. As my cousin put it this afternoon, a Groundhog Day miracle!

If you're new to my blog or just forget the story of Joe's missing ring, it goes back to my epic Afghan Whigs in NYC weekend in October 2012. After arriving home from the Terminal 5 show, I realized that the ring was missing. I knew I had it with me at the show so I searched the car and when I couldn't find it, I resigned myself to having lost an important memento which I probably would have passed down to Domani someday. I cried a bit and felt exasperated, but when I went to the Afghan Whigs show the next night at the Music Hall of Williamsburg and they played Band of Gold it was as if the whole universe was telling me it was alright. It was the only time on their tour they would play that song, so excuse me for thinking it was meant for me and my particular situation.

Fast forward almost 4 months to today. I was replacing Domani's car seat in our personal vehicle after a trip with my cousin and her family to see Disney on Ice when I saw Joe's ring sitting on the seat of the car. My heart jumped and a tear formed in the corner of my eye as I reached down and placed the ring back on my finger. I glanced up towards the sky and let Joe know that I felt him near. I couldn't describe that moment if I had a thesaurus full of words. In fact, my mind is still racing about it. And lest you be tempted to leave a comment that I must keep it in a safe place now, I've already been warned by a friend that if I lose it again (this was the 2nd time I had lost it), she's going to kill me. She might be serious and I love her for that.

Postscript - I have a friend for whom tomorrow's Superbowl (aka day 172 for him) will be bittersweet no matter what the result. He will be cheering for the 49ers just like Domani and I were cheering for the Giants this time last year. My thoughts and prayers are with him. I thought it appropriate to also share my CaringBridge post from last year's Super Bowl now. It brings back sweet memories even though I obviously have no skin in the game this year.

Written Feb 5, 2012 10:39pm by Anne Luck-Deak

I'm still pinching myself. The night before Joe passed we were watching the Giants play the Packers. At that point we were certainly not thinking Superbowl Champion and Giants would be in the same sentence this season. I guess we'll never know how much of that game Joe was really able to soak in, but what I do know is that with every game since then (only one of which resulted in a loss) Domani and I have felt him with us. It's amazing how something as simple as cheering for a team can create a long-lasting bond. 

Joe was the one who brought me over to Giants fandom from not being much of a football fan at all. It started when he made me wear his Giants jersey after I lost a bet involving a Giants game. It was the 1996 season and I've been cheering for them ever since. Earlier today, when I saw Joe's brother Jimmy, he was wearing that same Giants jersey - which he had found somewhere among Joe's things. What a nice moment.

Tonight, I watched with knots in my stomach as the Giants came out strong in the beginning and then had 10 unanswered points scored against them leading into halftime. If I had realized what was going on, then maybe I could have spared all of us Giants fans all the undue stress of the game. You see, the Giants performance was directly related to where I was sitting. When Domani and I were in Joe's chair, it was the pits. When I was anywhere else it was as if heavenly angel(s) were running the Giants show. 

Those first 9 points? I was at the table eating dinner. That Chase Blackburn interception? I had left the room to nurse Domani. Shortly after the Giants were forced to punt when the refs refused to call a pass interference penalty on the throw to Manningham, I got a hunch as to what was going on and decided it best if Domani and I spend the rest of the game sitting on the couch. I'm glad we did. Not long after, the Patriots were forced to punt and Manningham came up with the 38-yard pickup. With one minute left in the game, Domani had finally fallen asleep and lest I risk waking him up with a shout, I took him to his crib where he immediately cuddled up and fell asleep. During that final minute I stayed as far away from that chair as I could :0)

So, to any Giants fans reading this, my apologies for hanging out in Joe's chair so much tonight. It was a comfortable place to be but obviously Joe was able to keep the Giants on track much better with his chair free. I look forward to someday sharing with Domani the story of this season as a way to teach him about his Dad. And so that he has something to remember it by I just ordered the Superbowl Trophy pack. Someday I'm sure he will be really happy to have it and in the meantime it will be a nice reminder to me of my amazing husband who converted me to a Giants fan.            

I Want to Run Like Mommy

Today as per my Train Like a Mother Half Marathon: Finish It Training Plan I completed an 11 mile run. In the 27 degree cold. Up hills and around ice patches. Through as yet unmelted snow. It was my longest run yet and for at least the first 10k it was the fastest I've ever gone. It was definitely one of those mind over body runs. And it felt fabulous.

In fact, it felt a lot like this:

Thanks to @hcunninghamrd for this inspiration!

I saw this image posted on Twitter earlier in the day and it was stuck in my mind throughout my run. Each time I hit a patch of snow or felt overwhelmed by the cold I got a burst of energy as this photo and the accompanying slogan played again in my head. Even though for me running isn't about "earning a body", the sentiment is the same - it is hard work and there is a reward. I am loving the challenge of training for a half marathon and the places I have found support along the way. As I prepare to enter my 10th week of training I couldn't be happier for the ways I have found inspiration in the doldrums of this season. Winter running just feels bad ass and there is no describing what it does to my body and my spirit.

One drawback of the winter though, has been the shortened daylight hours. When I left for the run it was late in the afternoon and my little guy was taking his nap. By the time I got back the sun had just about set and the full moon had started to take its place in the sky. He was very excited to show it to me even though what my body wanted to do was curl up in a ball under an electric blanket (do people still have electric blankets?). Instead, I checked out the moon with him while I sucked down a glorious glass of chocolate milk. 

Sometime shortly after dinner, a great running day got even better. It was then that I experienced a proud Mother Runner moment that is making me teary eyed all over again just thinking about it. Domani was talking with my Dad and and my Dad was asking him about what kind of sports he wants to play when he gets older. Dad was rattling off a list of possibilities and Domani just blurted out "I want to run like Mommy!" Seriously. Without prompting. (Well, unless you count the fact that I had just gotten back from a run about 45 minutes before.)

It was priceless. And, apparently, it set off some sort of trigger in his mind because he proceeded to run off into the living room and then showed up wearing my sneakers and trying to stuff a phone into my armband. When he noticed that I was there watching him, he looked me right in the eye and said "READY TO RUN, MOMMY!" (And, yes, he was so excited that he was basically yelling it.) When I asked him where we were going to run he told me that we were going to his cousins' house (which by the way is about 21+ miles away...) Apparently, not only am I raising a runner, but I'm training a little marathoner. Love this little guy. I guess that means I better put a marathon on my own schedule at some point in the future :-)

"READY TO RUN, MOMMY!"

Re-Living This Week Every Year

It was MLK Day 2010 and I found myself in our bathroom with an at home pregnancy test barely able to believe what I was seeing. I mean, really, we had JUST started trying. Apparently, you might as well just change my name to Fertile Myrtle. I just wasn't expecting it to happen so quickly and I knew Joe wasn't either. For about a minute I contemplated telling him in some cutesy way, but instead went right into the bedroom where he was and let him know that in about 9 months he was going to be a dad. His reaction was pretty much the same as mine. Not quite sure what to make of it all, we decided to go out for lunch. We went to a favorite spot of ours, Lisco's Country Cafe (which is now sadly closed) and didn't talk much about our big news. Had we known what the rest of the week had in store for us, I'm sure we would have appreciated the news for the miracle it was, but on that Monday, it was scary and big and we were second guessing whether we were really ready.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning. It was January 20th. I was out of the house early because we had a big meeting in Trenton and I had to be there to assist with signing in attendees. A month earlier I had left my position working at the Local and started working for the National Union. This was the first big meeting I had been a part of since joining the National Staff and I was trying to be as helpful as possible. My cell phone was in my purse which I left under a table because we were busy signing in and distributing materials to hundreds of attendees. After about an hour and a half or so I checked my phone. There were many missed calls from Joe. I listened to the first of the voicemails and it was enough to send me into a panic (this, by the way, is why I now always keep my cell phone with me). Thankfully, I was able to get him on the phone relatively quickly. He was in the ER. He needed the health insurance information since he had just been added to my plan and we didn't even have the insurance cards yet. They didn't know what was wrong with him, but anything serious enough for my husband to call an ambulance raised an immediate red flag for me.

The next 24 hours were a flurry of doctors and nurses, hospital rooms and waiting rooms, coffee and vending machine food, and very little sleep. After initially thinking in the ER that Joe was suffering from diverticulitis, by the end of Wednesday night he was recovering from emergency colon surgery and we had nothing to do but anxiously await the results of pathology tests. Some parts of that Wednesday are still as clear in my mind as if they had happened yesterday. I remember sitting in the hallway of the ER with Joe waiting for him to be admitted (unfortunately, this would not be our last time sitting in an ER hallway waiting for admission). I remember being in the hospital room with Joe just before he was wheeled off for his surgery. I remember lots of things about the waiting room while Joe was having his surgery - I ate dinner from Mexican Village there and we prayed with Eric, the Pastoral Assistant from my church who came by to be with us. I also spoke with my friend Karen who had lost her son to colon cancer just a few months before. Her son's diagnosis story was similar to what had happened with Joe and it was a blessing that she was available to talk to me while I was waiting for him to be done in surgery.

The next two days were rough. I spent one of the nights curled up in the chair in Joe's hospital room because I couldn't bear to sleep away from him. Since that resulted in me not actually sleeping, I didn't do it again, but the frustrating dance of trying to be there at just the right time to see the doctors when they came by was exhausting. Finally, at the end of the day on Friday, we got a visit from the doctor who did his surgery. She explained that Joe had colon cancer and that it had already spread to his lymph nodes and liver. The only other thing I clearly remember her saying (if you've seen the movie 50/50 it felt much like the scene where Joseph Gordon Levitt's character gets his diagnosis) was NOT to go searching online for survival rates because there are amazing things that are being done and Joe is young and strong. I searched anyway. Almost instantly I wished I had listened to her. The statistics for metastatic colon cancer are not good. So there we were -  five days into knowing we were pregnant with our first child and hours into knowing Joe had stage 4 colon cancer. I found myself thanking God that I was a Fertile Myrtle and telling Joe again and again that I needed him to recover from his surgery and be with me through the pregnancy and birth.

What was big and scary on Monday was a blessing beyond words by Friday. Funny how that can happen.

It all happened this week 3 years ago and the events of that week have completely changed my life.  I guess it's not surprising then that as Monday comes and then Wednesday and then Friday, I will notice. And in my own way I will re-live this week. And I will embrace this quote from Anne Lamott that I posted on my Facebook page that following Sunday:

"This is the most profound spiritual truth I know: that even when we're most sure that love can't conquer all, it seems to anyway. It goes down into the rat hole with us, and there it swells and comforts. It gives us second winds, third winds, hundredth winds."

I can't tell you how many times over the last 3 years I have felt like I was in the rattiest rat hole of them all. Every time and I mean every damn time there has been some thing or some person or some sign or some act of love that has swelled and comforted. It wasn't always instantaneous. It wasn't always obvious. It wasn't always what I would have chosen. But it always gave me another wind. 

So, if you are in need of that today, open yourself up to it. And if you are feeling led to do it for someone else, please don't delay.

Belief

As a part of worship this morning in church each attendee received an Epiphany star with a different word written on it. Before receiving the "2013" word, members of the congregation shared their 2012 words and the meaning those words came to hold for them throughout the last year. Sprinkled with humor and tears, and overflowing with the profound, this was one of the most powerful communal reflections I have ever witnessed. By the end, I was beyond eager to receive my 2013 word.

I was sitting in the last pew of the church and as I watched the basket being passed a word flashed in my mind. The word was "love". That brought a tear to my eye. It is one of my hopes for this year. And then, from out of nowhere a song popped in my head. Truth be told, it wasn't really from out of nowhere because it's a song that seemed to pop up all over the place during 2012 - that Don't Stop Believin' song. The one that propels me when running or lifts my spirits on a dreary day working at the airport. My moment finally came and I picked the star off the top of the basket. And then the tears just came.

Yep, my word was "belief". Seriously. Really. I almost couldn't BELIEVE it. But I had to, because, you know, my word was BELIEF, after all. If this is any indication of the year ahead of me, I better buckle up and get ready for the ride. 

Already today that little word propelled me through a cold, muddy, 9-mile trail run. What a powerful little word! (Don't stop believin' - hold on to the feelin') I can't wait to see what it has in store for the remaining 359 days of 2013.

I Haven't Been Single for This Long Since High School

As I started reflecting on 2012 I came to the realization that I have gone a whole calendar year as a single person. Widowed. Not in a relationship. Unattached. Checking that box that coincides with not married. Alone. I also realized that it has been a certain brand of shall we say EXTREME SINGLENESS as in the haven't-even-been-kissed-sort AND that I haven't gone a whole calendar year as a single person since I was in high school. Those were all pretty striking realizations for me.

If you had told me last New Years Eve that I would be spending this New Years Eve without a significant other I probably would have been pretty sad. Last New Years was tough for me. I missed kissing my Joe at midnight and falling asleep next to him. If you had told me last year that come January 1, 2013 I would *still* be single, it would have been a hard pill to swallow and would have left me even more fearful of 2012. But something amazing happened this past year and I'm glad I didn't go into it with a crystal ball.

The truth is that I didn't even notice my singleness until the end of the year. Now, don't get me wrong. There were plenty of times when I was lonely and plenty of times when I missed Joe. There was even a moment in time around August when I realized that I am open to another relationship if the right guy in the right circumstance comes along. But in looking back over this year, I have realized that my singleness in 2012 has allowed space for so many other things. And that has been amazing.

-A stronger Mother/Son bond. My relationship with the little guy has deepened during this time when it has been "just the two of us". During those traditional "family" times like Saturday mornings and Sunday evenings, it is now the two of us so we are spending more time cuddling, playing, even just vegging out in front of the TV. That time has been invaluable.

-Deeper friendships and new friends. This year I have been able to pay more attention to some of the important friendships in my life and welcome new friends into my life. Afghan Whigs fan friends. Runner friends. Mother friends. Afghan Whigs Mother Runner friends. I know that I have formed some lasting friendships which will last through life's ups and downs and I know that's what really matters.

-Running. I started in the spring as a way to get back in shape and found not only a way to improve my health but a healthy way to work through my grief. In mid-August, I started on some regular training runs and since then I have logged 159 miles. In March, I will run my first ever half marathon and in 2013 I have set a goal of running a total of 13 races. Running and the people I have met through running have been such a positive force in my life this year.

-Spiritual growth and discernment. I'm thankful for the spaces and people who have led me deeper in my faith this year. They have challenged me to keep moving forward in my grief journey while allowing me to be honest with what I am experiencing. Spiritual direction. Grief support groups. My church's praise band. Other places of worship I have visited. Even sermons and blogs I have read on Twitter and Facebook. This has been a tremendous year of self discovery and spiritual growth for me.

-Afghan Whigs Reunion Tour. No point in belaboring this one. If you follow my blog even casually, you know that this has been a centerpiece to my year. I *think* my final show count was 10 and it included travel from Toronto to NOLA to Cincinnati and many spots in between. We capped it off with an epic road trip to the New Years Eve show last night in Cincinnati which may very well be the last time the band ever plays together. These shows were like church for me this year and I'm so thankful I was able to go to so many of them with so many wonderful people.

-Travel. The little guy and I saw Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. We visited some spots in Florida that were special to his Dad and me. We took the Maid of the Mist boat cruise to see Niagara Falls. He met Mickey and Minnie and Goofy and Donald and Daisy and Woody and Buzz and the list goes on and on.

-The Mets! The little guy and I brought countless family members and friends to cheer on the Mets this year and win or lose we enjoyed ourselves. We saw R.A. Dickey's 19th win from our seats at Citifield and while we watched Santana's no hitter from my parents' house, it was truly a memorable year to be a Mets fan.

With each of these things I'm not sure I would have ended up where I did in 2012 if not for my singleness. I had space to concentrate on the many parts of my life that exist outside from a romantic relationship. Perhaps, a year of doing that has brought me right to the place to be ready for one in 2013 and maybe the person who is right for me will fit perfectly into my time with the little guy and my friends, will share a similar spiritual journey, will want to travel, will also be a baseball fan, will enjoy running, and will like the Afghan Whigs. Of course, if that's not the case, I'm confident there will be something equally exciting that God will send my way to fill me up. Somehow, empty is never something I have used to describe my life and for that I am thankful.

An Ugly Christmas Sweater Party for SU2C

Tonight my sister Naomi and I teamed up to throw an Ugly Christmas Sweater Party to raise money for Stand Up to Cancer. The organization has been running a fun event throughout December where individuals could ask for sponsors and commit to wearing an ugly Christmas sweater every day or groups could hold a fundraising party with all the proceeds going to the fight against cancer. We decided that doing a party would be a fun way to get friends and family together while Naomi was back in NJ over the holidays and give cancer a swift kick in the pants at the same time.

My house tonight was full of family, friends, food, and some pretty ugly sweaters. We got a little rowdy playing the quiz game Buzz and tried to channel our best "Joe" performances on Rock Band. We had all been touched by cancer in some way and together we pitched in over $250. Not too shabby for our small but mighty crew.

The hardest part of the night for me was playing Rock Band. This was the first time I've had it out since Joe died and it was strange playing it without him. His steady way of playing that guitar or banging out the rhythms on the drum just couldn't be matched. And, as my sister Karen reminded us all tonight, the amazing thing about Joe was that he was just as good whether he was drunk or sober! It was a sweet, but difficult reminder of our loss, but an appropriate setting for such a reminder. 

After all, the whole point of our gathering is so that maybe someday families won't have this same pain of losing their loved ones to cancer. So, just as I have experienced at other points this year, I am sad, but also thankful for a way to "do something" with my grief. May the funds we raised go far in the fight against this disease that stole our Joe and too many others.

If you want, you can make a donation to our "party" through this link.

The One Year Illusion

I guess I thought there would be something magical about passing the one year mark. Somewhere in the back of my mind I envisioned arriving at a year and a day and all of a sudden feeling differently in my grief. I guess I just felt like something in me would "click" and I would comfortably move into the "next" phase of my life. Not so much.

Maybe it's the Christmas season. Maybe it's the overwhelming pace of my life right now. Maybe it's just my own way of moving through this loss, but it didn't happen even close to that way. In fact, in some ways, this has been my most intense period of sadness and anxiety since immediately after Joe died. Perhaps the worst part of it for me is that this intensity has worn me out to the point of not even being able to blog about it.

Last Saturday, I ran a 5k race in 28:17 for my best 5k time yet. But, there's no blog post about my Mistletoe 5k run because by the end of that day I was just too exhausted to write anything about it.

On Monday, I was able to join with my family to celebrate my Dad's 60th birthday. My sisters deserve so much credit for all they did to coordinate it from the shirts with the mysterious Latin phrase to the gifts that were given every 60 minutes. It was truly special and though I missed having Joe there, the togetherness did help lessen the sadness and anxiety that had become my December companion. I only wish I had the energy to blog about it more fully when it was over.

On Wednesday night, my sister and Mom came over to help me turn my house upside down looking for a checkbook I needed for my mortgage refinance. We were ready to give up without having found it when I decided to take a look in my old purses and old work bag in my closet. In one of my old purses I found the little notebook within which I used to keep my Christmas gift lists. I immediately became distracted looking at the things I had bought last year for Joe for Christmas and then by glancing at my list from the year before that. Tears came with it. My blog post from last Christmas will give you an idea as to why...

Christmas

Written Dec 26, 2011 9:45am by Anne Luck-Deak

These last three weeks have flown by and dragged on at the same time. Domani and I have been surrounded by the love, protection and practical help of family and friends. We have seen an outpouring of support for Domani's education fund and have received expressions of sympathy from literally around the world. We have had meals dropped off and ordered for us (including a special something dropped off to us on Christmas Day). We have had some amazing people help with moving furniture, painting, cleaning, wrapping presents, and doing dishes - all in the midst of the Christmas season rush. It has been humbling to see the love poured on us in Joe's memory. I knew it before, but it is a continuous reminder of what an amazing guy we had in our lives.

Even with all of that love, yesterday was hard. For me, it was the hardest day since the one in January 2010 when Joe was first rushed to the hospital. Many people may not know this, but Joe was the best gift giver I've ever met (I understand that is not supposed to be "typical" for a guy.) He was thoughtful and creative and he always knew about the latest technology or could find the most obscure (yet perfect) gift. He knew his loved ones well and that made his carefully chosen (and usually ordered online) gifts perfect. 

Last year he wouldn't even tell me about the gifts he bought for Domani because he wanted them to be a surprise for me too. In addition to some Mets gear and a few educational toys, he got Domani a Curious George stuffed animal - because Curious George was Joe's favorite when he was little. Every time I look at that Curious George I think of Joe and his thoughtful love for Domani. And that makes me smile.

I missed exchanging gifts with Joe yesterday. Not because of the material things I would have received but because it was one of the many ways Joe would express his love. If you knew Joe, you know that he wasn't a much of a talker. But on Christmas he didn't have to be - he always found a way to speak his love through what he had chosen to give. Probably a good lesson for all of us and not just when it comes to material gifts.

In the midst of reminiscing about exchanging gifts with Joe I felt the urge to look in my old work bag and wouldn't you know it, there was the missing checkbook. It was almost as if Joe had led me right to it. Once again, during a normal month, I would have taken the time that night to write about it. But, no. Everything was just too exhausting.

I could probably name 20 more instances over the last 3 weeks where I've failed to capture events or realizations that were important to me. The lesson I have learned in the midst of it all is to be grace-ful towards myself. I can only do what I can do. As long as I am honest with myself emotionally and spiritually, do my best to tend to my physical well being, and make time to nurture the relationships in my life, I will come out ok. I have learned over the last few years deep lessons about what is important and what is not. Getting "over" my loss in one year is not important. Blogging a certain number of times is not important. And most certainly money and things and to do lists are not important. The important things in my life are people, moments, and those things we all do to build a better world. Those are the things I will cling tightly to this Christmas and that I know will keep me going even during the most difficult months.