Experiencing Grief

In early April I shared that Jay was in hospice care. It has taken me a month to form the written words to update you with the very sad news that he entered into eternity four weeks ago.

We have had the memorial service, and now I’m working on the many “thank yous” that need writing and mailing to dozens of very supportive, thoughtful friends and family members. And I’m experiencing emotions the likes of which I’ve never previously known.

This photo was taken Christmas Day 2023. He’d just completed his chemo schedule a few weeks prior and was feeling strong. Four days later we took the trek to the UCLA Medical Center to begin what was to be a multi-month nuclear medicine treatment program. I remember how hopeful we felt.

He made it through two of those treatments but before the third March infusion he was notified that the requisite lab report indicated he’d suffered catastrophic negative side effects. We’d hoped that two hospitalizations would stabilize the losses, but it wasn’t to be.

We couldn’t have anticipated the treatment offered to extend his life would instead dramatically shorten it. I am struggling a bit with my brain accepting the rapidity with which he crashed.

This is where we are, but I try to at least once a day focus on some of the gentle mercies interspersed within the pain.

Top of that list perhaps is the care we received through hospice services. At the worst of times the hospice nursing team offered such compassionate care to Jay, as well as to me and the children. We were able to be by his side every minute for his final two weeks, holding his hands to the very last.

Not everyone gets that. We had time to prepare. That’s what I told myself. I didn’t know that you cannot prepare.

Grief is a tsunami of an emotion that overpowers and feels outside of my control. But I am learning to set aside expectations and to take each day as it comes. Day? How about take each hour as it comes. That seems about right.

This is my new reality and it might take me a while to accept it, but I will. Eventually.

I may be on a journey I never wanted to take, but it’s still a journey. And a journey indicates movement. Life is a gift, and I’ll take the learnings from this painful part of life and one day I’ll feel whole again. It just might take a little while!

“Grief and resilience live together.” –Michelle Obama

62 thoughts on “Experiencing Grief

    • It has been a long time since we’ve crossed paths, Mary, and I thank you so much for reaching out at this particular time. Your comforting presence means a great deal to me. This is such a hard time, but I feel very encouraged by the care of others, and the recognition that grief visits all of us but we can share in the recognition that it just plain old hard! Blessings to you, my friend.

  1. I know that same pattern, dear beautiful creature: the Tarceva trial they put Chic on that gave us such hope ! – and then the news that it had started to kill him … That terrible, cruel high and the following plumbing of the depths …

    Such a lovely photo. You look at it and you say “But this is not POSSIBLE ! – how can he be gone ?? I don’t understand !” every day. Every. Single. Day.

    You are right in recognizing everything that happens to us as part of the journey, Deb. The unspeakable difficulty is in having to continue along the path alone. But you are not, in truth, of course – you have family and friends and they all love you and want to support you.

    It’s an insoluble fact that there’s only one whose love you want.

    Hang in there. We’re all here, too; and we too love you.

    • I’m reading your words with tears streaming, dear M-R. You describe how I am feeling better than I even could. There really is only one person I’m longing for, and the truth is I think I’m struggling with simply accepting something we all know as fact–we’re human and perishable!

      I didn’t recall from your story that Chic had been offered a similar “promise” of a life extending treatment only to have it fail miserably. I think this is probably more common than I’ve ever previously considered, but I’m also keenly aware that I’ve made a lot of assumptions about cancer treatment that have been naive.

      Thank you for your care, my dear friend. There’s a sisterhood between us in this journey, and I do draw strength from it. ❤️

  2. Debra, I’m so very sorry. What will survive of us is love. You will always have Jay with you all. One foot in front of the other, and all that. Wishing you strength on your journey xx

    • Thank you, dear Fiona. Yes, it really is one foot in front of the other, and just continuing on. The return to more “stable” feelings will eventually become more predictable and the love will remain. I was a very fortunate woman to have had 52 wonderful years. I don’t take that for granted. I really do appreciate the words of comfort and care, my friend.

    • You are very kind, Janis, and I thank you. Each day marks a small victory in that I have successfully made it through. I am functioning well, or well enough, and I am grateful for the love and support I receive every day. I do have family and friends who give me so much! And I consider you a long-distance friend, too. I am very fortunate to have this extended community!

  3. Debra, you are on a journey that you will take at your own pace: don’t let anyone rush you. There will be many twists and turns: unexpected laughter, sudden tears, days when it’s hard to get out of bed. Be gentle with yourself and seek support as needed. I just found written records of my mother’s grief after my father’s sudden death and of her grief after the death of her only sister many years later. Her feelings were different. Her questions were different. Her actions were different. I know her a little better after her death through these writings. May you, too, find treasures.

    • Thank you for this very insightful message of encouragement, Sharyn. In the earliest days I heard the words “go at your own pace” and I didn’t really know what that would mean. I’m beginning to understand differently. I’m keeping my schedule and expectations VERY light, and sometimes that feels so odd to me, as I’ve always been busy. But right now I don’t have what it takes to do more than the bare essentials, and I think that’s the way we’re designed. Grief takes everything out of a person.

      I’m so touched to hear that you’ve found your mother’s writings and that has to be like opening a window on her soul! Blessings to you, too, dear Sharyn, for your own loss of your mother. You’re further in your journey than I, but I think I can assume you’re still very much on that narrow path to healing. Thank you for taking the time to respond so sensitively. ❤️

  4. My dear friend, I am so very sorry. My thoughts are with you and your family. It all happened too soon, too quickly. Take strength from all those offering their support and sympathy and know you are not alone. Hugs.

    • You are so kind, Cathy, and I appreciate your sincere condolences and I’ll take that hug! I do take courage and strength from the kindness and sympathy of others. It is interesting to note that the support comes across as transferrable. What a blessing that is. And I am not alone. Not alone in my personal circumstances, and also keenly aware that grief visits us all in various forms and from within our individual circumstances. You are very dear. Thank you.

  5. Debra, I’m so sorry to hear of Jay’s passing. I’ve been with you in prayer for some time now and will continue to keep you close as you grieve. I pray that you will find comfort with your loved ones who share your loss ❤

  6. You’ve encapsulated the impossibility of grief in words that reveal the depth of your love and compassion, Debra. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us.

    Peace.

    • I’m very comforted by your sympathy, dear friend. It’s a rough road and I am learning new things about myself every day! I am both vulnerable and strong. Both. So one day at a time. Funny how that’s all we’ve ever had, but I am experiencing that truth differently!

  7. Sweetheart, I so didn’t want to read this and make it real. Many times I’ve thought of you and wondered if I should find your email to write, but what to say? Debbie, I’m so sorry! It’s happened so fast. I’m grateful that you had family and friends to support you, and that you could hold his hand to the last. What a beautiful smile he had. God keep you and help you through these impossible times, hon. Sending hugs!

    • You are so kind, Jo. Thank you. I know that we all experience grief in various forms throughout our lives, and so when I share and receive such kind thoughts in response it really matters. I do draw strength from the prayers and support of those who care for me and I truly am blessed with support and love from so many. I don’t take anything for granted. I will eventually move beyond this most painful first few months. He was a wonderful man and it’s right that I should miss him so much! 💔

  8. Thanks for the update – and to think I was about to send you an email. Your past few years have been quite the journey, and you are embarking on a new one. Time is a great healer as long as you don’t challenge it. I am confident time will turn the memories from sorrow to smiles. Peace, strength, and comfort to you.

    • Thank you, Frank. Yes, it’s been both a long journey to this point, but Jay’s decline was so rapid, almost overnight, and I think my emotional rollercoaster is accelerated by the shock of the last two months. I will regain my equilibrium, I’m sure. I’m fortunate that I don’t have to feel any great need to be involved in too much. I can take the necessary time. I appreciate your always kind words, my friend.

    • Thank you, Karen. That really is how it seems to work–one hour at a time. Each evening I’ve been mindful that I’m one day further down that road. I appreciate the compassionate response, my friend.

  9. Oh Debra, you have been on my mind daily. I am so sorry for your loss. I wish you strengths. Grief is as deep as our love is, and the first year after a loss is the hardest. I am comforted by the thought that you are surrounded by your family.

    Thank you for sharing on of the last pictures of the two of you. Jay’s legacy was created by him and you. In twenty or thirty years the children of your grandchildren will talk about the two of you and as so often, they might wish they would know more.

    You are such a talented writer, perhaps over time you might consider writing your story down. The story of Debra and Jay, all the little secrets you normally don’t share. Just a thought.

    Be strong my friend, this journey is one we all fear. You are right, every journey needs movement, I couldn’t agree more. But there is also a time of stillness, that is needed after a tragic loss. Take all the time you need, be kind to yourself.

    Thank you for updating all your blogging friends. We all are here for you.

    • Thank you, Bridget. You are so kind and very insightful. Your response shows me that you’ve had some understanding of how to function from within the vale of tears! I am currently quite mindful of the need to be still and just absorb the shock of how quickly we went from one set of expectations to a very quick end. I’m still trying to make sense of things that will never truly resolve. Your understanding helps. You are a dear friend. ❤️

    • I love your remark, Mimi. We’ve been saying that! “Cancer sucks!” It is a thief, that’s for sure. Thank you for being on the other end of what I think of as my blogging lifeline. ❤️

    • Thank you, Val. Your kindness means a great deal. There is something about sharing the story of a grief that helps alleviate some of the pressure that builds. Thank you for understanding that. ❤️

  10. I’m sorry to read of Jay’s passing Debra. I was only thinking of you today as we visited Kew Gardens – The rockeries were awash with Californian Poppies. Grief is a funny thing – sometimes it hits you for no obvious reason and other times you will feel as it nothing has happened and life is just normal. Let the tears flow – don’t bottle anything up and keep yourself busy. As Jay takes on switching in a new marshalling yard, our thoughts and prayers are with you 🙏

    • Thank you for kind and perceptive words, Martin. The ups and downs are so dramatic! I have never been one to be totally comfort with emotions, especially emotions “on display,” so it’s a challenge to me to have very little control on when the waterworks are going to start streaming! I’ve joined a club with a steep membership I never wanted in the first place!

      I appreciate your very kind words, my friend. And I’ll take a prayer every time you think of me, with gratitude.❤️

  11. I’m so very sorry, Debra. Sending a warm hug your way, and praying for peace in your heart. In due time the grief will speak more softly.

    • Thank you so much. More than you know! This is a steep climb for me, but with the prayers and support of friends like you I have confidence that I won’t be alone. I love the way you express the hope that grief “will speak more softly.” That is so perfect! ❤️

    • I have a new life, and one that I never wanted. I don’t know how long it will be before I can take a full breath, but that will be step one! Thank you for your kind response, Andrew. I am a woman of faith and believe me, I’m leaning into that! 💔

  12. Dear Debra, I am so sorry for your loss. My sincere condolences. I can just imagine how it feels to loose a partner of so many years. Take good care of yourself, maybe a good grief counselor can help.

    • Thank you Gerlinde. We haven’t crossed paths recently and so I’m so glad you identified yourself! You’re very kind. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced, and yet I have so much support. My two children and their partners have been so sensitive. I have considered getting into some grief counseling, and likely will. I think it could be helpful. I’m so glad you stopped by. You are very kind.

    • Thank you, Philip. You are very kind to share your care and concern. This is a hard time, but the kindness from so many of my blogging friends does give me a boost. There’s something so important about feeling heard. I appreciate your very kind thoughts.

  13. Dear Debra I am so very sorry for your loss and for you and your whole family’s Loss. May you take each Min. Each hour each day to heal, reflex , and be kind to yourself. Grief is so very hard, I watched Collateral Beauty , quite a few times to help me even feel, after my Sisters died. You are in my Thoughts and prayers dear friend ♥️🌹 Much Love Debi Wilden

  14. Thank you, Debi. It is so good to hear from you. I don’t know “Collateral Beauty” but I will look into it. I’d love to talk soon, and get caught up a bit. This has been a really hard time, but I appreciate your loving words. I truly do. They mean a lot and they do help me. Thank you, dear friend. ❤️

  15. Dear Debra, I read this several days ago but struggled to find suitable words. Nothing seems remotely appropriate. I’m sorry for your profound loss of the wonderful man you married, and for what your shared together. I’m not surprised to hear that you’ve been surrounded by love and support throughout, which means you’ll also have people to lean on when you need it most. A quote comes to mind, something to the effect that grief is love with nowhere to go. If I could I would wrap my arms around you, but instead I will leave a virtual hug for you to collect. Sending love and light your way. xo Alys

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