National hug a violist day..

Sending Leo a hug today...it's national hug a violist day :)

He was so cool!  :) 

This week doesn't appear to be off on the right foot.  I've already cried 2 times today.  

I feel so. so. so. lonely.  I don't think I felt this way as an awkward middle-schooler or in my teen years when this typical emotion is suppose to be present.

It will only be 3 months since Leo died this Wednesday.  I feel like I have used my "freedom" to talk about him dying.   When people ask how I am - I shouldn't confess how I am "really" doing.  The truth is - there isn't a hour that goes by where I don't think about him - or miss him - or wish this was a horrible nightmare - and I'll wake up soon.  When I wake up - he will be at home with mom - making her coffee, making beautiful music, answering the phone when I call - I wish this wasn't my reality.  At this point, I pat myself on the back when I can hold back the tears.   Since it's been 3 months - the few people who sincerely asked how I was doing - have stopped.

All but one.  Tracy - she is my only friend that I feel 100% comfortable in sharing all the deep sad lonely emotions with.  Today - she asked how I was doing - and I said "sad and lonely" - and she didn't offer a solution, didn't try to give me advice - but just allowed me to be.

This is Tracy!  

However, I don't want to burden her with my sadness - and I feel like I do.

Tracy can't be my only support, plus she has a serious boyfriend, important job and lives in CA.  The last thing I want to do is add my "needing support" to her plate.  However, I don't know how the hell I'm going to find any support...it's so important...and yet I don't have it.    I'm longing for support - longing for some connection with someone - who will just listen to me.  Someone who will go out for a drink with me - or see a movie - or not feel awkward when I cry.   Someone...anyone...

I found this wonderful post this afternoon called: ways to support someone who is grieving.  This post really spoke to me today.   For two reasons really.  1. it reiterates the need for support.  2.  also makes me feel "normal" with some of my reactions.

I would have to add one though.  Don't ever say "cheer up; that person wouldn't want you to be sad; smile for that person; focus on the good memories; etc."  Those phrases are not helpful.  Personally, if I ever hear "cheer up" again...I might scream :).

Go hug a violist!

-Kathryn-

May 17, 2011

I will forever hate this date. Hate with a deep, sadden passion. In fact, every month on the 17th - it's a reminder. Really: everything, everyday is a reminder.

I was out sick on Monday the 16th - and decided to work from home on Tuesday to rest a little more. That morning is mostly blurry, but I remember sitting at my dinning room table and getting a phone call. My caller ID said it was Leo. Whenever Leo called, I would always answer with an excited "Hey Leo!" This morning it wasn't Leo. It was mom, and I couldn't understand a word she was saying. I couldn't understand her because of the sobs. Initially, I assumed it had to do with one of her old kitties. It was the unimaginable, it had to do with Leo. Leo suddenly, unexpectedly died between 2am-7am on May 17, 2011. He was only 58, I'm only 29 - there is something really wrong with those numbers.

I asked a few times, "Mom, what is wrong? Tell me. What happened?" She finally got out the phrase "Leo's dead." I think my response was "what? what the fuck are you talking about mom?" Then Leo's brother took the phone to say the words she wasn't able to say.

After I hung up the phone - I don't remember the details of the morning/afternoon. I decided to board my dogs in Nashville and drive to Grand Rapids, MI. It was the longest drive of my life. I couldn't get to my mom fast enough. I had to pull off the side of the road many times to allow myself to bawl. I remember ordering food - and the lady asked how I was doing and I started crying. Again, longest drive of my life.

It's true what they say about numbness and shock after a loss. I think if you watched me the week following Leo's death, I might have appeared strong. I was able to keep mom together, put together a memory basket, remember to bring the memory basket back to Grand Rapids, etc (however, I did forget to remind mom to pack her dress she was going to wear to the funeral - major fail) - I was able to laugh and carry on conversations. I wasn't strong, it was numbness. Part of me misses the numbness and strength, because when they fade away - you realize how weak you truly are.

Little did I know that 05/17/11 would change me forever. It has only been a little over 2 months and my life has already changed and altered the following ways:

• I don't want to be involved in meaningless friendships. I have too many of those...life is too short.
  
• I have truly realized who my best friends are. Especially that one out in CA. Not sure what I would do without her.
  
• I have learned that our (American) society doesn't know how to handle grief.
  
• I'm learning to not be embarrassed by my tears and to let them fall.
  
• I've started grief therapy - which I'm calling "Esther Time."
  
• I'm going to be joining a support group in September.
• I want to honor Leo and his "live life to the fullest" mentality, but I'm trying to still figure out how that looks in my life.
• I worry about my mom about every minute of the day.
• The physical distance between me (in Nashville) and mom and Leo (Bay City, MI) has never felt greater.
  
• I realize how influential he was in my life...and I'm still learning. I just wish I could tell him this and a simple thank you.
  
• Most of all, I feel really cheated.
  

I'm sure over time, that list will grow. During Esther Time yesterday, she was telling me that this is an event that will shape who I am moving forward. I fear this. I'm so sad, having panic attacks, feeling hollow on the inside - I don't want to be like this forever.

Another thing I learned is grief does not happen in stages. Another example why Americans can't deal...we have to have a "step by step" process to deal with losing a loved one. There is not a "right" or "wrong" way to go through this process. I didn't really buy into the "stages" psychology - because I go in and out a few of the stages in a given day. I'm just happy that Esther thinks they are crap too.

One more thing about Esther Time. She likes this book - I can't remember the name - but it's a daily meditation on healing after losing (which might be the title!) Anyway, she wanted to read what the book said on the day of our first meeting: 7/27. She scanned the short page - paused a long minute - and said "it's about music." Of course it's about music - after all - I was there talking about Leo.

I'm going to be using this blog as an outlet. I want to write during this time in my life. I want to recall the good, really good, bad and really bad times. I want this to somehow be a tribute to Leo. I picked the background of this blog for him. The picture reminded me of the Great Lakes - a true love of Leo's.

-Kathryn-