GOOD-BYE BABE
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My Tragic Story
I lost my perfectly healthy husband suddenly and unexpectedly on January 7, 2018. He woke up that Sunday morning and complained that he had a hard time breathing, and about 20 minutes later, he had a seizure and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. It's been almost 4 weeks, and I still don't know why my husband died. The autopsy report takes about 4 - 6 wks (I guess it always seems a lot faster in those hour long CSI movies). I decided to start writing this blog as a way to heal and find meaning and purpose from such a tragic event that will forever change the very fabric of my life.
Since my grandmother has been very ill for the last six months, I had already started reading a lot about grief and loss as a way to mentally and emotionally prepare myself if she passed. The last time I had a major loss in my life was when my great-grandmother passed away in the summer of 2002. She was 89 years old when she had a stroke and passed quickly after. I knew that losing my grandmother (who literally raised me and is like my mother) was going to be devastating. So, I began the mental and emotional work to prepare myself for the next biggest loss in my life. I used to tell my husband, "I don't know how I will deal with it when my grandma passes." Looking back now, I realize it would have been an easier pill to swallow than my perfectly healthy husband dying at 49 years old (hindsight is 20/20). One of the books I read on grief and building resilience after a loss was Option B by Sheryl Sandberg. Although I wasn't expecting my husband to pass, I thought it would help provide general grief and loss coping strategies. One of things she talked a lot about in her book was journaling as way to cope and process your feelings and emotions during grief and loss. So after my husband passed, I took her advice and started writing to see if it really helped.
Upon arriving at the ER (I wasn't allowed to ride in the ambulance with him), we were ushered into this small, private room off to the side of the ER waiting room that they called "the family room." (Mind you, I didn't even sit down in the ER waiting room yet when they ushered me into this so-called "family room".) A social worker comes in and asks for my name and contact info and asks how I'm related to the patient. Then two doctors walk in and say, "I'm sorry to tell you your husband died." (They didn't waste any time and just cut to the chase). I screamed at the tops of my lungs, "NO! You have the wrong person, that is NOT my husband. Is this a joke?!" I screamed so loud and became so hysterical that they had to close the door to "the family room" so that I wouldn't scare the people in the waiting room. I literally had a mental breakdown and just started pacing and ranting--"I can't do this! This is not my life! I'm having a bad dream; I just need to wake up!"--for hours in front of the hospital before I could find the strength and courage to go back into the hospital to see my husband's lifeless body. Whenever I watched movies that involved people dying, I never understood the need to see and/or hug and kiss the dead body. It never made sense to me, until it's your loved one. It took hours and two people carrying me back into the hospital before I could confront my new reality. The first thing I did when I walked into the room was to run to him. I hugged and kissed his lifeless body (even though the social worker kept telling me I couldn't touch him), and I kept telling him to wake up so we both could go home and wake up from this horrible nightmare, but he never did.
My mental breakdown lasted for about 4 days, and the only thing I could do was lay in bed in tears in the dark, unable to speak or talk. I was in total disbelief and denial that this was my life. These things only happened in the movies, right? It's never your story, until it's your story. The morning after he passed, I woke up at 5 am and remembered what Sheryl Sandberg said about journaling, and I just started writing (since I couldn't even talk or utter anything coherent except my crazy lady rants.) I just starting writing him a letter, and each day I added to the letter which I would eventually read at his memorial service. It took 4 days to write, and it helped me process my thoughts and emotions. It was only after I finished writing the good-bye letter that I was able to find my sanity and the mental fortitude to get out of bed and plan a funeral for the love of my life. Mind you, I'm only 39 years old and have no clue how to plan a funeral. So, I hit the internet and start googling and researching. I remember when I was planning our wedding, I googled and found tons of info on the internet about how to plan the perfect wedding. There was this site that had the ultimate wedding planning guide that offered pages and pages of step-by-step instructions and timeline on planning the perfect wedding. So, I automatically assumed that this would be the same for planning a funeral. That there would be some magical site on the internet that offered the ultimate funeral planning guide with step-by-step instructions and timeline on planning the perfect funeral. Well, no such luck. Google was definitely not my friend when it came to planning a funeral and writing an obituary. The info was very limited and sparse. (I've derailed a bit but it was annoying that there was basically no info on how to plan a funeral considering everybody will have a funeral eventually, whereas not everybody gets married!)
Although the memorial service has passed, I still continue to read and re-read the first good-bye letter to him, as I also continue to write more good-bye letters to him. Somehow, reading and re-reading the letters soothes my soul and provides me comfort. I feel like it's a way I can still connect with him even though he is not physically here. So, I decided to keep writing him good-bye letters until I'm done saying good-bye and documenting my new and unwanted journey as a young widow.
Since my grandmother has been very ill for the last six months, I had already started reading a lot about grief and loss as a way to mentally and emotionally prepare myself if she passed. The last time I had a major loss in my life was when my great-grandmother passed away in the summer of 2002. She was 89 years old when she had a stroke and passed quickly after. I knew that losing my grandmother (who literally raised me and is like my mother) was going to be devastating. So, I began the mental and emotional work to prepare myself for the next biggest loss in my life. I used to tell my husband, "I don't know how I will deal with it when my grandma passes." Looking back now, I realize it would have been an easier pill to swallow than my perfectly healthy husband dying at 49 years old (hindsight is 20/20). One of the books I read on grief and building resilience after a loss was Option B by Sheryl Sandberg. Although I wasn't expecting my husband to pass, I thought it would help provide general grief and loss coping strategies. One of things she talked a lot about in her book was journaling as way to cope and process your feelings and emotions during grief and loss. So after my husband passed, I took her advice and started writing to see if it really helped.
Upon arriving at the ER (I wasn't allowed to ride in the ambulance with him), we were ushered into this small, private room off to the side of the ER waiting room that they called "the family room." (Mind you, I didn't even sit down in the ER waiting room yet when they ushered me into this so-called "family room".) A social worker comes in and asks for my name and contact info and asks how I'm related to the patient. Then two doctors walk in and say, "I'm sorry to tell you your husband died." (They didn't waste any time and just cut to the chase). I screamed at the tops of my lungs, "NO! You have the wrong person, that is NOT my husband. Is this a joke?!" I screamed so loud and became so hysterical that they had to close the door to "the family room" so that I wouldn't scare the people in the waiting room. I literally had a mental breakdown and just started pacing and ranting--"I can't do this! This is not my life! I'm having a bad dream; I just need to wake up!"--for hours in front of the hospital before I could find the strength and courage to go back into the hospital to see my husband's lifeless body. Whenever I watched movies that involved people dying, I never understood the need to see and/or hug and kiss the dead body. It never made sense to me, until it's your loved one. It took hours and two people carrying me back into the hospital before I could confront my new reality. The first thing I did when I walked into the room was to run to him. I hugged and kissed his lifeless body (even though the social worker kept telling me I couldn't touch him), and I kept telling him to wake up so we both could go home and wake up from this horrible nightmare, but he never did.
My mental breakdown lasted for about 4 days, and the only thing I could do was lay in bed in tears in the dark, unable to speak or talk. I was in total disbelief and denial that this was my life. These things only happened in the movies, right? It's never your story, until it's your story. The morning after he passed, I woke up at 5 am and remembered what Sheryl Sandberg said about journaling, and I just started writing (since I couldn't even talk or utter anything coherent except my crazy lady rants.) I just starting writing him a letter, and each day I added to the letter which I would eventually read at his memorial service. It took 4 days to write, and it helped me process my thoughts and emotions. It was only after I finished writing the good-bye letter that I was able to find my sanity and the mental fortitude to get out of bed and plan a funeral for the love of my life. Mind you, I'm only 39 years old and have no clue how to plan a funeral. So, I hit the internet and start googling and researching. I remember when I was planning our wedding, I googled and found tons of info on the internet about how to plan the perfect wedding. There was this site that had the ultimate wedding planning guide that offered pages and pages of step-by-step instructions and timeline on planning the perfect wedding. So, I automatically assumed that this would be the same for planning a funeral. That there would be some magical site on the internet that offered the ultimate funeral planning guide with step-by-step instructions and timeline on planning the perfect funeral. Well, no such luck. Google was definitely not my friend when it came to planning a funeral and writing an obituary. The info was very limited and sparse. (I've derailed a bit but it was annoying that there was basically no info on how to plan a funeral considering everybody will have a funeral eventually, whereas not everybody gets married!)
Although the memorial service has passed, I still continue to read and re-read the first good-bye letter to him, as I also continue to write more good-bye letters to him. Somehow, reading and re-reading the letters soothes my soul and provides me comfort. I feel like it's a way I can still connect with him even though he is not physically here. So, I decided to keep writing him good-bye letters until I'm done saying good-bye and documenting my new and unwanted journey as a young widow.
