Higher Love the Second

 

Cassie Deitz...someone I consider a close friend and author of a very powerful blog...wrote about the exact song and emotions that overcame me yesterday.   Her post was titled   Higher Love. This happened to me as I was driving through incredibly beautiful country from Manchester, NH to Burlington, VT. Growing up in Idaho I saw beautiful country everywhere...my favorite place in world still is and always will be Stanley, ID and the majestic land that surrounds the hidden lakes, winding rivers, and towering mountains.  New England, however, posses it's own beauty with endless miles of rolling hills (technically they are mountains here but that is a far stretch considering I come from a very mountainous state and have seen the Colorado Rockies up close and personal).

I put my iPod on "driving music." This is my playlist I created for the long drives I normally take during my weekend adventures of exploring New England these days. Last year at this time I was lucky to get out of my apartment to see the light of day. My poor Scottie dog, Belle, learned that she was probably only going to get 3 potty breaks a day...4 at the most, but was still a perfect little companion for me during my dark days. Around month 4 and 5 I started to get a little more energy to venture out but by that time it was late fall moving into Winter. The sun started to go down around 3pm...not exactly ideal for an active griever who denied themselves daylight for 4 months and finally wanted to feel it on their skin.

Anyway...back to the play list. This playlist is an eclectic mix from Paralyzer by Finger Eleven, to Proud Mary by Creedance Clearwater Revival. I put alot of high energy songs mixed with some in which I knew every word to...(there may have been some Backstreet Boys and 'NSYNC but that is neither here nor there). I was rock’in along and enjoying this beautiful ride when Higher Love by James Vincent McMorrow came on.  

When I first read Cassie's post I listened to this song over and over and over again. As she mentions in her post, we have all heard this song in it's original version by Steve Winwood. This version, however, seems to bring an entire new meaning to the song.  I immediately started crying. Not the ugly cry that would have made me pull over and wait for the wave to pass. This was more of a "I really really really miss Kevin cry, I miss my best friend and just want to talk to him and tell him all the new things in my life cry, the holy shit....it's been over a year since I have heard his real voice cry." I feel like this song has so many levels in it. The lyrics talk love and suffering;

 

 Think about it, there must be higher love 

Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above 

Without it, life is wasted time

 Look inside your heart, I'll look inside mine

 Things look so bad everywhere 

In this whole world, what is fair? 

We walk blind, we try to see 

Falling behind in what could be

Until Kevin died I didn't truly experience love and suffering so intensely at the same time. Sure I've broken up with boyfriends in the past and felt that "pain" before. But after I met Kevin I knew that I never truly loved another before because my love for him was different...it was the real deal.

Worlds are turning and we're just hanging on 

Facing our fear and standing out there alone 

A yearning, and it's real to me

 There must be someone who's feeling for me

 Things look so bad everywhere

In this whole world, what is fair? 

We walk blind, we try to see 

Falling behind in what could be

At this point in my journey I feel like this whole verse is referring to widow/ers. The people who just "get it."  These words are so true to how I feel everyday.

I will wait for it I'm not too late for it 

Until then, I'll sing my song

 To cheer the night along 

Bring it...

 I could light the night up with my soul on fire 

I could make the sun shine from pure desire 

Let me feel that love come over me

 Let me feel how strong it could be

I feel like the love in these two verses is a self love at this point. A love that I lost the day Kevin died (in addition to losing the love of my life) and have slowly been getting it back day by day. "Let me feel that love come over me, Let me feel how strong it could be," this is the self love I am waiting for again. I feel glimpses of if everyday...I feel my smile...my real smile...that I so desperately miss again. It is slow, but it is coming again...my Higher Love.

Yesterday I sat by the water for the last time the morning I was preparing to pack up my stuff yet once again and move for another 5 weeks at a new location, meeting new people, and becoming familiar with another aspect of my ever changing career path and life. I sipped my iced coffee and read (for the second time) Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl. For those of you who have not read this book, I highly recommend it. It is an incredible description of the author's life in Nazi death camps and his sheer will to live that got him through not only the camp, but the death of numerous members of his family and close friends. One of Kevin's good friends lent me this book to read in January and I read it immediately, soaking in all the details and coping skills I could. Reading it for the second time now, I realize I read it out of desperation the first time. I wanted someone to tell me what to do, how to grieve, and when....oh WHEN would the pain stop.

At this stage in my journey I now know that there are no answers to those questions. This is a journey only I can take and only I will know what it entails. The pain...well I know the pain will never stop. How could it when you love someone with your entire being and they are so suddenly ripped from your life forever? I now know the pain will lessen, no...more like evolve. It has already morphed into a part of me that I live with everyday. A part of me that I have learned to live with, I have embraced, and I cherish. That pain is a representation of a man that I loved, and who loved me deeply. I would never want that pain to fully disappear. I am not a huge fan of the pop culture icon Katy Perry but she does say it so well in one of her latest hits..."This is the part of me that you're never gonna ever take away from me."

As I was reading the Man's Search for Meaning a passage stuck out so strongly that I spend an hour just sitting and thinking about the words. He was talking about his wife and his constant yearn to see her and his dream that they would be together when their suffering and pain was all over.

My mind still clung to the image of my wife. A thought crossed my mind: I didn't even know if my wife was still alive. I knew only one thing - which I have learned well by know: Love goes very far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds its deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self. Whether or not he is actually present, whether or not he is still alive at all, ceases to somehow be of importance.

I did not know whether my wife was alive, and I had no idea of finding out (during all my prison life there was no outgoing or incoming mail); but at that moment it ceased to matter. There was no need for me to know; nothing could touch the strength of my love, my thoughts, and the image of my beloved. Had I known then that my wife was dead, I think that I would still have given myself, undisturbed by that knowledge, to the contemplation of her image, and that my mental conversation with her would have been just as vivid and just as satisfying. "Set me like a seal upon thy heart, love is as strong as death."

This passage resonated with me so strongly the second time that I wonder if I even read it the first time. Or I was possibly still in so much pain that I didn't care about the strength of love and transcendence because I just wanted him to still be physically in my arms and I didn't care about much else.

Life is all about perspective and this book is definitely a tool on perspective. Once again...I highly recommend it to people who have never been through a tragedy, are going through one now, went through one 20 years ago, going through a divorce, lost a job....really any life shattering ordeals that has left them wondering how they could possibly go on any longer.

The first seconds

I've heard it many many times. A saying that is supposed to comfort those consumed by sadness, grief, hopelessness...etc. A saying that is meant give the griever...a saying that was meant to give me...hope that the second year will not be so bad.

"After one year the holidays, anniversary's, and special days will not be as bad and you will smile and remember the good memories"

Well, this is the first second holiday. He was not here for July 4th, 2011. This was the first holiday I had to endure without him, and this is the second time around for it. I woke up with the anticipation that it would be a good day. Even though my friends and family could not be here, I had high hopes that I could still experience happiness on this day unlike last year...I was sadly mistaken.

Shortly after I woke up I was consumed by anxiety, sadness, memories...by the reality that I could no longer say...last year Kevin was alive for this.

I've had some pretty big swings since the one year date but all in all it's been pretty good. My mom and her best friend Carol visited from Idaho. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to talk to an actual person during dinner instead of have a conversation with myself in my head. We hit the town and toured cape cod from the canal to P-Town,

Went to Martha's Vineyard

 and experienced a little bit of Boston in the mix

And despite my extreme stage fright and fear of public humiliation...I was picked by the street performer to assist him in his act

It was a great trip and much needed visit from my Idaho life to remind me of what I'm here for, and what I have to look forward to when I return.

And then there is today. A holiday dedicated to spending time with family and friends and I am here alone.  Although Kevin and I only actually spent one 4th together (two weeks after we started dating) because he was always either on a fire or working late to in case something went array with the locals shooting of fireworks where they weren't supposed to. It is still a holiday. And it still sucks. Despite what people may have told me...I have a feeling those people have never experienced tragedy before because the second year STILL sucks. 

There is one huge difference between today and July 4th, 2011: I know it will get better. I am a professional griever at this point and I know what I can do and how to handle these unexpected, out of the blue, no good, anxiety ridden, sadness filled days. 

I listen to myself. I give myself a break. I get through the day moment by moment. I read inspiring books or blogs. I eat junk food because it makes me happy for the moment. I drink wine because it eases the pain just a little. I remind myself of what I do have and I am blessed that I am still here living for the both of us. 

I was feeling particularly sorry for myself just a few hours ago so I decided to walk into town with my camera to try and capture the essence of the 4th in Onset, MA. There was also a band playing so I thought it would be a good way to relax and take in the moment. I decided to take the long way around so I could walk next to the water when I was stopped in my tracks. There are memorial benches all around Onset and I have never really stopped to look at any of them until now. I just happened to glance down and the last possible moment and saw this: 

 

 If you look to the horizon, the possibilities are endless...

I really needed that dragonfly today, to remind me that he is still with me on the hard days and he is still so proud of me. I also needed the little reminder that I can do anything I put my mind to...that my possibilities are still endless.

One Year

This day (I’m writing this on the 24^th) has been on my mind for quite some time. Mostly because I wasn’t sure how I would handle it, what it would bring up inside me, and if it would set my healing back.  The answers: I handled it by declaring this the Weekend of Me, it obviously brought a lot of memories and emotions to the surface, and if anything, it propelled my healing forward.

My bad days weren’t the 23^rd and 24^th like I thought they would be. They were actually the 21^st and 22^nd…Thursday and Friday. Last year the 24^th was on Friday. So Thursday night was not so good. The crawling up in a ball and convulsively crying type of night. I felt suffocated by being inside my little cottage so I went to the beach and stayed there until the tidal wave leveled out and I felt like I could go to sleep. I kept looking at the clock recalling what had happened at each moment.  That was also suffocating so I drank a bottle of wine and watched the preliminary Olympic trials for men’s synchronized diving…man those guys are good.

So after a rough Thursday and Friday I felt like I needed a better plan for the weekend. That’s when I declared the Weekend of Me where I would do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and however I wanted. This isn’t much different from how I live my life after Kevin died anyway because I have adapted the survival method of doing what makes me happy for the next second, minute, hour, etc. This time, however, I would spend more money and go big.

So Saturday I got a peppermint pedicure and deep tissue massage, ate crab for lunch, went to the movies, ate lots of buttery popcorn, and watched the sunset on the beach at Buzzard's Bay in front of my cozy little cottage.

Today I took the ferry to Nantucket and had a surprisingly great time.

I rented a scooter and drove around the entire island stopping at a few random beaches to take in the rays of the beautiful day and snap some pictures.  For those of you who have never been on a scooter scooting around an island I highly recommend it…I dare you to be sad on a scooter traveling from beach to beach surrounded by beauty.

Beach on the South Shore

The last beach I stopped at was Wauwinet Beach. It is located near the very tip of the north shore and very private. The only beach goers are hotel guests or the rich people renting the enormous vacation houses.

As I was walking to the beach I noticed a couple perfectly shaped and completely intact shells. As I got closer to the beach I noticed there were hundreds just like it. So I did what any sensible person from a state that doesn’t border the ocean and rarely sees one would do…I started gathering as many of those suckers as I could. The only shells I have seen this perfect were from souvenir stores. Any other beach I’ve been on have either been picked by those souvenir stores or the shells are broken by the thousands of tourists that sit on the beach each summer.

I came to two conclusions 1) the people going to this beach are so rich that they scoff at the idea of bringing home a simple sea shell to their home, or 2) the beach is nationally protected and you aren’t supposed to remove the shells.  I’m gonna go with #1 just to make myself feel better.  At least I got some great gifts for Kevin’s nieces and nephew : )

 Wauwinet Beach

All in all, they day was full of beauty. I reveled in the fact that it’s been one year since my life was shattered into a million pieces yet I’m still here. My life has changed by an incredibly tragic event…yet I am still able to see good, to see hope, and to see joy. Everyday I get up and I move forward to honor him.

 Beach on South Shore

 Sankaty Lighthouse

Houses at Sconset Beach

 

 Steps Beach

 Steps Beach

 Scare Crow made of beach items at Steps Beach

 Kevin graciously let me do everything I wanted for our wedding, he only had one request...strawberry filling in our cake...so granted him that one wish. To honor him, I had some strawberry ice cream by the harbor before my ferry headed back to the Cape.

 I didn’t see any dragonfly’s today but I feel like even though my chances of seeing one were dramatically increased simply by being close to water, Kevin was still sending me a message. I feel like the whole day he was telling me “You don’t need me today…you got this all on your own babe.”

How it Happened

As I write this entry I am sitting 50yds away from a beautiful waterfront cottage that I am staying at during my rotation for General Medicine in Onset, MA…a small community located in the infamous Cape Cod. I’ve wrote about this in my entry for June 14^th because it was the source of my “incredibly happy moment.” However…the daunting one year anniversary of Kevin’s death is vastly approaching and has left me drowning in a sea of memories and realities. It’s been one year and he is still dead. It’s still not a nightmare, and I still will never ever get to talk to him, see him, or hold him again.

I feel like I have been hiding from my pain to some extent because everyone does not know the truth…or maybe they do and still ignore it like I do. I have never wrote about the day he died in this blog and I feel like I have done that for many reasons. I did lie to people in the beginning about the nature of his death because I hated talking about it and I knew it would provoke countless painful questions that I didn’t even know myself. I also avoided addressing his death because it didn’t matter how he died…he still wasn’t coming back.

However, in the days approaching the one year anniversary I feel compelled to write about that day as a step toward healing. I started this blog just after he died as a way to let my friends and family know how I was.  That is not what this blog is today. It has been my saving grace…an outlet for my grief. A way to stay connected to a widowed community that I so desperately needed in the beginning. I read widow(er) blogs reverently in the beginning and they gave me one very powerful feeling: hope. I knew that I was not alone when I read those blogs and maybe someone who is newly widowed currently reads mine in search of the same validation that I needed: I was not alone and it does get better…somehow, someway, it will get better.

On that same note I feel like I owe it to myself to talk about the worst day of my life. That day shattered not only my world…but the world of Kevin’s family and friends.

I had just flown into Boise around 12:30am (mountain standard time) on the morning of June 24^th, 2011. My grandpa was not doing well and he was going to be honored in the Hazelton, ID 4^th of July parade that weekend. I didn’t want to miss it. I knew this was possibly going to be the last time I saw him alive. Kevin was also going to pick me up in Boise the afternoon of the 24^th so we could drive to Hazelton together and spend some much needed time together and with my family. The only ones who knew about Kevin and I coming home for the weekend were my parents who so graciously funded my plane ticket home considering Kevin and I’s bank account was less than sufficient to afford such a trip. We were going to surprise everyone else.

I spoke to Kevin at exactly 1:15am for the last time. We exchanged how excited we were to see each other said “goodnight” and “I love you” for the last time. At 5:03am I got a phone call from Kevin’s little brother. When I looked at the caller ID I just assumed it was Kevin calling me from Ian’s phone (not unusual because he constantly let his phone battery die) before he went to work. I answered with a chipper hello followed by Ian’s voice telling me the news that dropped my heart into my stomach. “Kevin’s been shot…they’re working on him…he has vitals and life flight was there working on him.” I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t comprehend what Ian had just told me on the other line. This couldn’t be..I thought to myself…I just talked to him, he’s coming to pick me up today.  I don’t remember what exactly happened next but I do remember calling my friend in Boise who I knew would answer. I was alone at the time and I knew he was going to die. I didn’t want to be alone when they told me he was dead.

The next few minutes were a blur. The one thing I could absolutely not comprehend was that he had been shot.  I remember someone from the hospital telling me that they had found his truck and my mind immediately went to a more plausible explanation. He was in a car accident. This was a logical explanation that I could actually understand. It was logical that he had been in a car accident…it was not logical that he had been shot. While all this was going on I was back and forth on the phone with my parents, my brother, Kevin’s sister, and everyone at the hospital in Cedarville, CA.  I wanted to stay optimistic but my experience working as a scribe in the emergency room overpowered my hope for survival. I knew what it meant when Ian said “they were working on him.” It meant they were doing everything they could but the chance of him coming out of this alive was very, very small.

At 5:37am Ian confirmed what I already knew. Kevin was dead.  I had stayed the night at a friends apartment that happened to be next door to the church that Kevin and I attended when we lived in Boise. Immanuel Lutheran. I remembering sitting on the curb basically waiting for the inevitable.

For about 20 minutes I had a sharp clarity that came from nowhere. I had to call my school and tell them what happened and that I didn’t know when…or even if I would be returning.  At this point my mind still understood that it was a car accident so that’s what I told the director of my program.  I believe at some point during the day she sent and email to the rest of my class informing them that he had died in a car accident. It wasn’t until 2 hours after he died that I talked to one of Kevin’s friends who made it very clear what had actually happened.

Kevin was mistaken as an intruder at a friend’s house and shot in his right side. The Surprise Valley EMS, hospital crew, and life flight team did the best they could but his injuries were too great.

The amount of strength it just took me to write that was more than anybody could imagine. I have discussed that day at length with Kevin’s closest friends and family but I knew there were still people out there that haven’t heard the story, or even heard the truth.  I initially let my classmates believe that it was a car accident because I hated talking about it and I knew they had the same mindset as me. A car accident was logical.  People die from car accidents all the time, but a gun shot would have brought questions. Now that it’s been a year I feel like it’s finally time to talk about it.

Like I said before, this took more strength to write than any other posts…it was also the most healing.

I miss Kevin every single day, I think about him at least 90-100% of the day, and I love him more now than ever.

This week will be hard…but I’m searching for the healing steps forward and I believe this was one of them.

Alot has happened since my last post. This included attending a Zac Brown Band concert, moving from Bangor, ME to Cape Cod for my new rotation, taking a test, making new friends, and....actually having an amazingly happy moment.

I know right...the far most important part for me has been the amazingly happy moment. It was Thursday June 7th. I had just taken my end of rotation exam and was getting ready for much needed night out with my girls from PA school that I only get to see every 5 weeks now that we are in our clinical year. I had just dropped a friend off to get her car and I was sitting at a stop light (sorry for the exact detail but I feel like the set up is very important). I was listening to my Zac Brown Band CD...which I have done often since the concert in Bangor (amazing concert by the way). The song "Knee Deep" came on and I suddenly felt a surge of happiness...true happiness. I know you may be a little confused because to be honest, I was extremely confused. Why had I all the sudden felt happy? Why in that moment did life seem to not suck? And what was it about this song that triggered this moment?

Then it hit me. I was about to move to Cape Cod for 5 weeks, live in a cottage on the beach for free...(I'll post about that on another day), and attend my general medicine rotation in which I get Wednesdays off (more time for the beach). The days are getting longer and I was finally able to feel the warm sun on my skin again. 

And about the song. I've always taken the song "Knee Deep" literally. Meaning...actually sitting on a beach somewhere in paradise. But the more I listened to these lyrics the more I understood. Paradise can mean anything. Paradise is YOUR happiness, it's MY happiness. Whatever that may be, whenever that may come, and however that may feel. In that moment...I had a true paradise moment. I know it will come again. And maybe next time it will last longer than a few moments. Maybe a few hours? days? weeks? months...even years? This is possible. It can happen.

After I had my moment of true happiness, I started bawling uncontrollably. I know it sounds like two extreme emotions but it wasn't as insane as it sounds. I started crying because I was so happy that I had a happy moment. Even though it was only a moment. It was MY moment. It was a truly happy moment. One that I haven't had since June 24th, 2011. I felt like Kevin was with me the whole time telling me...it was okay to have this moment, he wants me to be happy again. And even though I am still in the baby steps...they are steps forward. The picture above is from Aquinnah Beach in Martha's Vineyard. A tangible paradise. A place of peace and tranquility. For now I will continue to search for my paradise within.

The video is a little off from what my post is about but a little comical anyways. The part made my heart skip was the very beginning of a shot of a direction sign for Puerto Vallarta and Manzanillo in Mexico. Our honeymoon was in Puerto Vallarta. The lyrics that really hit me in my moment were in the chorus:

Wishing I was knee deep in the water somewhere
Got the blue sky breeze and it don't seem fair
Only worry in the world is the tide gonna reach my chair
Sunrise there's a fire in the sky
Never been so happy
Never felt so high
And I think I might have found me my own kind of paradise

June.

Just four little letters that carry an unbelievable amount of emotion.

I can't believe it's June. I usually don't know the date...I wake up, get dressed, go to work, and....well...work. It's not until I have to write the date on something that I actually realize what the day is.

The last couple days have been good. Not great by any means...but not terrible. And I truly know the difference...trust me. I felt a pull of deep emotion and thought about the day Kevin died all day long. And then I realized why. I think my heart knew before my mind. It's June. JUNE!!!

I was talking about the good and bad days with another widow and how I never really knew what a true bad day was, or for that matter, what a true good day was. We believe (and pretty much every single person who has suffered true tragedy that I have discussed this with) that people who do not know what deep, intense, heart shattering, breath stopping sadness is...do not know what true happiness is. They are blissfully unaware that "life is good" and "all is well" and if you do good things, good things will happen to you.  I have met some of the most amazing do-gooders in the world who were not immune to tragedy.

Most of those people that I have come across are young, naive, and completely content with not truly knowing what a really good day feels like. I know this because I was one of those people. I was apart of the "nothing bad will ever really happen to me" club. I was happy...very happy. But now I know that I never truly had a remarkable day (other than the day I married Kevin of course) because I hadn't known what true sadness really felt like.

That being said, I still haven't had a truly happy day........yet. I added the yet, because I know that happiness...true happiness...is in my future. I still miss Kevin every single day, and even more on days like today. But in his passing he gave me a gift greater than anything I could have ever expected...the gift of truly living, loving, and appreciation for each and every day. I would take that life lesson back in an instant...I would love to be blissfully unaware of what life could really be like. But I don't have that choice anymore...I am a widow now.

I appreciate the good days so much, because I know what the bad days feel (and look) like.  I know this month is going to bring on some of my worst days yet...but I will keep the faith, stand tall, and push through.  I know there are good days...No...GREAT days to come. Days filled with TRUE happiness, beauty and love.