Obama Reform

Out of the blue, while I was in my office working diligently to implement all this stinkin Obama health care reform, I had a moment. Literally just a few minutes to reflect on everything below and then imprison my tears. I looked over at my digital picture frame and several of Kevin's pictures flashed by. And, that's when it came over me...

I had visions of him lying on that cold, stainless steel table with tubes sticking out of his mouth. Blood in his goatee. From the very moment I walked in that room and saw him I knew he was gone. I never felt his presence again. EVER.

The doctors never explained anything to me. I still to this day don't know what happened in that ambulance and emergency room. They didn't even give me time alone with him. There was a nurse in the room when there wasn't family and friends. I don't know why. What did they think I was going to do?

I picked up the phone to call my mother. She knew right away something was wrong. I matter-of-factly told her he died. No one stopped me. Nobody said, "Don't tell her over the phone."

I don't know how long we were in that room, but I do know it wasn't long enough. I would still be standing there with him if they had allowed me. But, instead everyone kept saying not to stay. Go home. Don't go back in there. Why? He's my husband!

I kept seeing him in the casket. Lifeless. Cold. Gone. Me standing next to him greeting the hundreds and hundreds of visitors. Greeting them as if we were having a BBQ and I was welcoming them into our home. Greeting them alone.

At the end of the funeral mass, friends and family were invited up to the casket one last time. One last time. We went up last. I turned to the funeral director, my friend, and I clearly remember asking, "Is this the last time I will see him?" and she somberly confirmed, 'yes.' Kevin's seven brothers stood valiantly in a half circle around the casket providing a private shield for our children and me to say our last good bye. Good bye forever. I gave him one last kiss.

The kids and I climbed into the limo and drove to the grave site. There were so many people that we had to have a police escort that strung on forever, blocks and blocks. After a short graveside service, everyone placed flowers upon his casket. I held the kids back so that we would be last. The five of us. No longer six. I knelt down and grabbed hold of the handle on the side. The one the pall bearers used to lift him onto the fake green grass. And I cried. Helpless, just like he was.

Then my thoughts drifted to Christmas 2008, just four months later. I gathered all Kevin's brothers, sisters and his parents in the living room to give them the photo albums I had made for them. I kept counting over and over wondering who I was missing. I knew there were 12 kids and his parents. Who was I missing? Then it hit me. I was missing Kevin

I can't describe in black and white how badly I'm suffering. How horrible my heart hurts. How awful this is. I try to explain it, to put it on paper for some hope of release, but I can't open up a tap and let my pain pour out. It's not that easy.

I wonder if Obama has a fix for this in his Health Care Reform package?

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

20 months

Tired
Worried
Wondering
Busy
Numb
Guilt
Secrets
Confusion
Hurt
Disappointment
Questions
Anger
Sadness
Loneliness
Helplessness
Sleeplessness
Angst
Reality
Memories
Atheism
Failure
Frustration
Overwhelmed
Starving
Tears

These are just a few of the things I've experienced in the last few weeks. Can you imagine the last 20 months?

Below are some of the things I want to experience in the next 20 months:

Peace
Happiness
Love
Acceptance
Smiles
Energy
Healing
Fulfillment
Success
Warmth
Hugs
Answers
Calm
Exploration
Decisiveness
Comfort
Rest
Closure

I would give anything to have a video of him to watch. I'd even settle for a recording of his voice. What was I thinking?

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Things to do

Yes, I stay busy. I workout all the time, I'm always on the go, I coach track, I work, I run races, I visit with family and friends, and I'm always looking for things to do. What I can't seem to do are my To Do's. More than 1 1/2 years later (shit...year has an 's' on it) I'm still having a hard time dealing with everday 'things.' Below is a small sampling of my To Do list that hangs around my neck like a noose:

• Schedule college visits for Kellie
• Schedule Kellie's ACT exam
• Remove Kevin's name from utilities and house deed
• Set up my will & trust
• Renew my teaching license
• Fill the swimming pool hole in the yard
• Have the pool deck removed
• Paint the downstairs rooms
• Buy living room furniture (it's literally falling apart)
• Pick a new picture for the headstone
• Cut the grass
• Pay bills
• Balance my checkbook (I have two months of receipts to enter)
• Have Sirius radio installed in our 3 cars (Christmas gift for cryin out loud)
• Plan our vacation
• Hang the new paper towel rack
• Fix the screen in the back door
• Install weather stripping on kitchen door
• Fix the molding on Kellie's bedroom door
• Caulk the bathtub and sink

Each morning I write down a few things I intend to tackle after work or on the weekends. It's not getting done. Tomorrow is another day.

If he were here, he'd help me. He wouldn't complain about it, either.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Can I ask you a question?

At some point, I'd imagine that most widows/ers begin to date. They re-enter the world of the living and meet new people (especially since they've lost some of their friends on their grief journey). Dating has been a hot topic lately among the widow community. Lots of buzz about it on Facebook and in the widow/er blogging community. It made me wonder at what point in a relationship is it ok to ask a few personal questions. These are the questions I would want to ask...

• Are both your parents still living? If so, are they healthy? If not, when and why did they die?
• Do you have any health problems that you're aware of?
• Does heart disease run in your family? What is your family health history like?
• Are you active? Do you run or workout regularly?
• Do you eat healthy?

I know that everyone dies. I also know there's no guarantees. I'm not asking for much. I'm just asking that when the time comes, I meet the perfect person, and we decide to spend our lives together that I be the first to go this time around.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Sunday Flowers

I wanted to buy some fresh flowers to put on Kevin's grave today. After dinner I headed to the store. When I pulled into the parking lot and it was empty, I thought to myself, "What else is new?" By this time, it was almost 7:30pm and the cemetery closes at 8pm. I drove past a few more stores which were also closed. So, I resigned to visiting the grave without my Sunday flowers. I knew that the flowers I had put there a week ago had to be wilted. I would need to remove them which would leave his resting place bare. That bothers me.

I turned the corner of section 30 and to my surprise our tree was in full bloom with the most beautiful dark pink flowers. I stood in the cold rain for about 20 minutes under my tattered umbrella just thinking, listening, staring.

Thinking about my past.
Thinking about my present.
Thinking about my future.

Listening to the rain.
Listening to the birds.
Listening to my heart break.

Staring at my past.
Staring at my present.
Staring at my future.


I don't 'talk' to Kevin because I don't believe that he can see or hear me. I just stand there in the quiet - in the rain.

I run my fingers across his name. I recount over and over the difference between his birth date and his death date...it's got to be a mistake. This can't possibly be right.

I stare at our wedding date and the two rings bound together.

I stare at my name that only has one date below it. I try to guess what that other date will be. I think about all the times over the past 20 months that I hoped a date would be engraved there.

I stand there wondering why we had to be so unlucky.

There were no tears today even though my heart ached. There was just quiet. I drove home without the radio hoping for warm, dry weather soon so I can go back to the stone garden and stay longer.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Why a daughter needs a dad

I was browsing the book section at Target today when I came across a book called "Why a daughter needs a dad." I immediately thought of Kristie. My oldest child who was so close to her father is hurting and I've only managed to make it worse for her. I have failed to empathize with her suffering and have failed to support her in her time of need. I've failed to understand that her significant change in personality is a response to her tremendous loss. I have not known how to react and help her because she hasn't explained anything to me. It's been difficult for me to guess what's been going on in her head. I couldn't decipher how much was her coming into her own and what was the unfortunate response to her grief. I wasn't even aware that she was truly grieving. I thought she bottled it up and threw it into the sea to wash up on shore later in time. I've been clueless. I've never been so wrong. I've been so distraught with my own grief I haven't addressed hers appropriately.

Today we had dinner together, just the two of us. A very nice dinner where we were able to talk openly...a little. Afterwards, she let me hug her, kiss her on the cheek and tell her I love her. She didn't push me away and she replied with an "I love you, too." It was a good day.

This is the last page in the book. It hurt to read it.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

24

Today was April 24th. Two years ago on this very day a beloved Brother at our church succombed to cancer. I cried. Kevin was saddened by BJM's death. It was the death of a vibrant, young man of the cloth who gave so much to the children of our school and parish. Exactly four months later to the day, Kevin died. It, too, was the death of a vibrant, young man who gave so much to the children of our school and parish. Today marks 20 months. I can't believe it.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

10 Miler

On Saturday, I'm running a 10 mile race. I'm excited because I've never ran this race before. I'm also excited because it's a challenge and I love challenges. It drives me. It keeps me curious. It keeps me moving.

I've come to realize that I've been running since Kevin died. Running in various ways. I've been literally running in an effort to channel all my emotions. I have run almost 2,000 miles since he left us. I've also been running from reality while chasing my past. I've tried to run and hide from decision making and problem solving. I've run far away from my family and friends. I've been running so fast and so long that I can't find the finish line.

I wear my watch to try to keep pace, but all I really do is count the time...the days, weeks, months, and now years. The seconds keep ticking and the days keep flipping and I keep running. This uphill run has been exhausting. Even though some days the run is harder than others, today I'm feeling confident that I will eventually find the mountain peak, run back downhill and cross the finish line. And, when I do, there's no doubt I will come out a winner, maybe even PR. I'm looking forward to it because I know all my family and friends, who've been cheering me on along the course and handing me orange slices, will be there at the end screaming my name, holding a dozen white roses, and giving me enough hugs to last a lifetime.

I bought a new pair of running shoes for the race this weekend. I hope they carry me with grace while honoring a man that meant so much to so many - a wonderful, giving husband and father who will never be forgotten.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Letter to my daughter

Over the years, my children have attended retreats through school and church. Part of the retreat tradition is for parents to write a letter to their children telling them inspirational things. I've never shared any of the numerous letters I've written over the years with anyone other than the child I wrote it to, not even Kevin. I feel comfortable sharing this letter to Kellie because over the weekend it will be read out loud by a teacher to the whole group of students on retreat with her. (I sure hope she doesn't read my blog:)

Dear Kell Bell,

I text you daily and I post messages on your Facebook wall, but I wanted to take this opportunity to let you know how much you mean to me. You and I are a lot alike which is why we don't always see eye-to-eye. It's also why I understand you so well, even if you think I don't.

Kellie, you are a very caring and giving person. You always think of others and are afraid to let people down. Over the past 20 months, since we've lost Dad, you've been aware of my bad days. I notice the little things you do to help me out. It's been rough lately, but you've managed to make huge improvements in your grades. I love how determined you are to own your own business someday. I know you'll do it and be successful! I also love that you know what you want and don't want...especially when it comes to boys :) You don't let yourself succumb to peer pressure.

You have a wacky and crazy personality that sets you apart from the rest. You dress how you want (no matter how much I beg you to buy different jeans). You have crazy sayings tattooed on you body, sayings no one else would ever think of let alone put it on their body. You go gaga over Lady GaGa not just because of her music, but because she does wonderful things for others and isn't afraid to be unique...just like you. All of your goofy qualities are exactly what makes everyone love you.

Now, about Dad. At the young age of 15, you lost your father. You were cheated out of many years of love, guidance, and happiness from a wonderful parent. He loved you very much and would've done anything for you. You don't say much about this and I respect your privacy. I just hope that you don't keep it bottled up to keep from upsetting me.

Don't forget how much he loved you. Remember everything he did for you - coached your soccer and basketball teams, helped you with homework, was always there for you, and loved you very much. As you finish high school, go onto college, become a business owner, and even get married and have kids (yes, you may actually want to someday) always remember that you are who you are and you've become all that you've become in large part because of Dad. Many years from now, I hope that you can look back with a smile and remember how wonderful he was.

Don't change a thing about yourself (except maybe eat less junk food:) because you are perfect just the way you are. You are Kellie and no one else can be like you. You make me proud and I'm very grateful to have you in my life.

Always remember where you came from, where you've been and look forward to what will be.

rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah
roma-roma-mamaa
ga-ga-ohh-la-la

I love you with all my heart,
Mom

"Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."
~Eskimo Proverb

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Mr. & Mrs. Karn

My mother-in-law and father-in-law arrived back in town last week. They took their usual trip to Louisiana for the winter to visit her family. I've tried numerous times to pick up the phone and call them. I've also wanted to walk ten houses down the street to see them. I haven't been able to do it...yet.

I start to cry just thinking about seeing them. I want to visit, but I know I won't be able to keep it together. I think my tears make them uncomfortable. I don't think they know what to do or say. I know they're hurting, too.

Everyone calls them Mr. & Mrs. Karn. That's what everyone used to call Kevin and me. Now, it's just Mrs. Karn. That sounds hypocritical these days. I'm not Mrs. anymore. I'm just me.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Five Hooks

I've been sad today. That isn't different from every other day. It's a somber day. Tired. Missing him.

Earlier today, I walked from the kitchen to the dining room past the stairwell and I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I stepped back and looked to see what it was. It was his brown Carhartt work coat. I don't know why I haven't noticed them in a while. But, today it caught my eye. There are about five hooks on the wall in the stairwell to the basement. Kevin always hung his work coat, bib overalls, raincoat, and hunting coat on those hooks. He died almost 20 months ago and all his things are still hanging there just as they were the day he died. There they were, waiting for him to wear them. The bibs, the work coats, the yellow rain coat, even his Cajun aprons from Louisiana, all hanging patiently on the hooks as if someday he will come back to them. As if he never left.

I've been waiting, too. The only difference is that I know he will never come back.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Parenthood

I have become a bad mother. I wasn't the greatest BKD and I've gotten worse. He was the better parent, no doubt.

Kristie had a bond with him that her and I do not have. I think she's somewhat lost now because of this. I'm frustrated and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix our problem. I'm losing her. She has become someone I do not know. I've become someone I do not know.

Kellie is still pretty much the same person as BKD. That concerns me, too. She can tell when I'm having a bad day.

Zack, oh my dear Zack. My heart aches for him. He really needs his dad and no one can take Kevin's place. How do I raise boys without their father?

Bradley is hangin tough. I'm not sure what to think of this, either. He tolerates me the most.

I am overwhelmed with life which makes it hard to perform all my work and personal responsibilities well. My coping mechanism has been avoidance. It's hard to deal with all the issues, so I ignore them. I've never been an avoider before. I get work done, but then I'm wiped out - mentally - by the time I get home. I have a To Do list a mile long and don't care.

My kids have lost their father and their mother.















- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Wonderful week so far

Tuesday morning at work, a co-worker popped in my office with a warm smile. She walked up to me and said, "Jennifer, I thought about you this morning. How are you?" My response? I immediately started crying. Before I knew it she was kneeling on the floor next to me crying, too. I am very careful to not express my pain with my co-workers (except for Sue) and not complain about my bad luck. In a company as big as the one I work at there are plenty of people who've had hard times. Plus, I have never been a fan of getting too personal at work. But, for some reason I couldn't hold it in that morning and I let it all out. She was so very kind and asked me to go to lunch with her (although I had to decline because of meetings). I apologized for crying and she told me to NEVER apologize or feel like I couldn't share my feelings. She later sent me a comforting email reinforcing that she is available whenever I need her. I will never actually call upon her, but it was so kind of her to offer.

We started our Wednesday work day off with a department meeting. The whole department of about 80 people. Today, we had a guest speaker. During his presentation he mentioned our partnership with South Pointe Hospital. Oh, the pain that stung. I felt my eyes tear up and my heart race. That's where the EMS took Kevin to be officially pronounced dead since no one saved his life. The place where I fell to my knees screaming in disbelief. The place I hate. The place where we found out I no longer had a husband and my kids no longer had a father.

The rest of the day was busy and I kept occupied preparing for an important presentation I had to give to 20 people this afternoon. As I stood at the copy machine contributing to the massive overuse of paper, a male co-worker waited for his project to spit out. He sparked up a conversation and eventually introduced himself. I asked him what department he worked in and what he did. He got on the subject of cardiovascular disease, meds used for treating it, and new findings in the field. He commented how we've been doing things a certain way and we're now finding out it's wrong. I wanted to tell him how my husband's doctor failed to treat my husband's looming condition that ultimately took his young, important life.  How, when he had high blood pressure and high cholesterol and a HORRIBLE family history of heart disease and diabetes he did absolutely NOTHING to ensure Kevin was healthy. He did NOTHING to treat Kevin's condition. He did NOTHING to make Kevin better. What he did do was ruin our lives. Oh, and he had the courtesy to call me a few days later to let me know he was sorry for my loss. I hope that made him feel better .

Of course, I could blame the cops who refused to breathe into his mouth and refused to allow his family to do so. I could blame the EMS. I could blame the ER docs. I could blame the doctor who had seen Kevin multiple times over the 12 months preceding his death. I could even blame myself for a few reasons. Or, I could pull the load of bullshit out of my ass that everyone wants me to and say it was God's calling.

And, by the way, I've become a lousy friend and a really shitty mother. I don't think it gets any better than that.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Great Blue Heron

Yesterday, I went for a 12 mile run in the park with Jackson. It was a very relaxing run. The quiet and the nature were just what I needed. Jackson is the perfect running partner, especially on my bad days when I need to be alone. He runs at exactly my pace and he doesn't say a word the whole time. It allows me to immerse my brain in thought while feeling the comfort of a running partner. I try not to think about Kevin while I run because it makes it hard for me to breathe...literally! And, yesterday was one of those days. I arrived at the park in tears.

As my feet hit the dirt one step after another, I looked around and swallowed up the fresh air and the beautiful scenery. Kevin and I loved the outdoors. We loved the Metroparks. I remember back when we were dating we would drive through that park all the time. There is a sign along one of our favorite routes that says "Falling Rock." Every time we passed it he would say, "That rock's been falling a long time" and I would giggle. Even after 20 years it never got old. I never stopped giggling.

There are many miles of bridle trails that run along the river. This is great for Jackson to cool off and get a drink. It also provides an endless picturesque view, especially in the spring. We saw blooming flowers, sprouting greenery, and creatures of all sorts. At one point, I looked over the river and saw a Great Blue Heron spread it's massive wings and take flight. He swam across the river, swooped downward and then took off out of sight. Kevin and I always enjoyed the rare moments we saw a Blue Heron. They are wondrous birds. I felt envious of that bird. I wish I had wings to spread wide and carry me far away from this life.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Hobson's choice

Yesterday I posted about the good week I've had, good in the sense that I haven't been very sad. Yesterday I could feel twinges of pain coming on. Today, it's 8:30am, and I've cried twice. Tears pouring out of my tired eyes. This is never going to end. This is going to be my life for a very long time. I can't find the light at the end of the tunnel. I can't figure out what went wrong. I can't figure out where I went wrong. It's incredible. It's awful. It's never ending. It's unfair. It's vicious.

Thursday's word of the day was Hobson's choice. Definition: noun: an apparently free choice when there is no real alternative. My Hobson's choice is to play the hand that's been dealt to me. I only wish I had been sitting one seat to the right at the card table.

Forgive me for not being upbeat and positive. Pardon my weakness for not being able to start over again and move on. Ignore my outward verbalization of my pain and suffering. Some day this too will pass...someday I will surely die.

Death = Hobson's choice.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

No Control

I've been quiet this week. Why? Because I've been feeling good. I haven't thought constantly about him and my tears/moments have been almost non-existent. I know not to get overly excited since this is part of the roller coaster ride...not the end. Work was rough, but emotionally I've been ok. Zack had a really bad start to the week but snapped out of it mid-way.

I ran a 5k this morning and wore, for the first time, my 2010 Race shirt I made in memory of Kevin. It choked me up a few times. At the starting line I held back the tears. At the finish I was fine. But, during my cool down I cried. Then Kevin's sister called and I cried some more. I've always been in control. I have no control over this and I had no control over him dying. I often think that had I been there when he had his heart attack I could've given him proper CPR and he might have lived. That eats away at me sometimes. If I had only been there with him...

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Cemetery

I visited the cemetery on Easter with the kids. None of them got out of the car. Maybe because it was a holiday, or maybe because I haven't done so in a few days, I cried hard. I then cried all the way to my parent's house...hoping no one would notice when I got there.

I went back by myself yesterday. The weather was nice and the early spring flowers around the tree are in full bloom. I laid on the ground like I always do when the weather permits and I stared at the sky. The day before it was insanely busy. Cars and people congested every inch of the place. Family, dressed in their Easter best, paid their respects to lost loved ones and placed adornments of all kinds on their eternal resting places. I prefer to visit on quieter days because I don't like to be bothered or distracted while I'm there. It's the only time I don't have my cell phone in my hand. There have been times when strangers have felt the need to come over and spark up a long conversation. They ask who I am and why my husband died. They sometimes even check to make sure I'm still breathing as I lay under my protective umbrella, trying to shield myself from the rest of the mourners. I don't like the cemetery and I don't think Kevin is there. I just go there because it's quiet, alone time.

As I write this, Bradley is being picked up by his uncle (Kevin's brother) to go to the Cavs game. Brad won two tickets at the egg hunt Saturday. Can you guess what I'm thinking?

Here are pictures of our tree. Most were taken while lying on top of our grave. (I always say 'our' because when I die I will lay on top of him for eternity.)

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Attack of the heart

I've come to the realization that I'm having panic attacks. I've been having these since shortly after Kevin died, but I've considered them more as 'very sad moments' as opposed to a lack of mental control. At first, they came on at church and social functions. Usually functions that Kevin and I would've done together (which is everything!). So, I stopped going to church and school & parish events. Then I started having problems being around Kevin's family, especially when there were many of them together at once (and there are a lot of them). I got into the habit of visiting his parents when I knew no one else was around. I'm not even friends with his family on FB because I found it to be too difficult. Recently, Kevin's sister left me a voicemail inviting us to her son's First Communion. A horrible feeling came over me. My heart ached the moment I heard the words and then I started to panic about having to be around all of his family for the day AND go to church!

Saturday evening, two of Kevin's sisters-in-law had a family Easter egg hunt. They filled 1,000 plastic eggs with candy, lottery tickets, and numbers for a raffle. The eggs were hidden in my yard and the yards of 8 other family members (we live very close:). I decided to walk down the street for the start of the hunt. I had NO idea how many people were going to be there. I walked into her house and it was literally wall-to-wall people. It hit me like I had just walked into a glass door. I made my way to the back of the room to a corner. I could barely keep it together as each person came by and asked how I was doing and gave their customary hugs and kisses. After a few minutes of telling myself to breathe while repeating over and over in my head, "don't cry, don't cry, don't cry" I headed for the bathroom and balled like a baby. I tried to stay there until the house emptied. Then, I made a beeline for my place to let the color settle down in my face. I eventually pulled it together, but I was somber the rest of the evening. Today after my 6 mile run, I sat in the park listening to nature while thinking about my response to seeing his family. That's when a light went on upstairs. I realized I'm having panic attacks.

My in-laws are all wonderful people, but every time I see them I have an attack of the heart. Not the same as Kevin had, but it might as well be.

Are there any widows reading this who have experienced the same thing? I haven't read about this and I think I'm having a hard time with anything that reminds me of what was and no longer is.

This was taken 18 years ago. Only my oldest is in this photo.

There are many more nieces and nephews and great one's too.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Simply Sad

I haven't written since Thursday. I'm simply sad.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn

Sunny Days & Holidays

Yesterday and today were the first warm and sunny days of the season. Everyone is Twittering and Facebooking about how happy they are and how wonderful the weather is making them feel. Friends and family are bursting at the seams with excitement over the upcoming summer days. People have been on the edge of insanity being cooped up all winter long. Up comes the sun, gone are the clouds, open are the windows and on go the shorts. That large, warm, bright yellow circle in the sky uplifts everyone's spirits and brings them out of their funk. Everyone but me.

For some reason these past two beautiful days have made me sad. It's another season. It's another month. It's another holiday. It's another birthday. All without Kevin. I miss him terribly. I'm alone. I don't mean alone where I need someone else. I'm alone in the car on the way to the park. I'm alone sitting in the living room with my four kids. I'm alone. If Kevin can't be here with me, then alone is what I need to be. Nineteen months of aloneness.

I had my weekly 1:1 with my boss today. She is a wonderful boss. A young, intelligent, vibrant woman who I really enjoy working with. Afterwards, I asked her what her plans were for Easter (a holiday I could care less about). She briefed me on her upcoming weekend plans. Then, she reciprocated the question. I told her the kids and I would be having dinner at my parent's house with family. I also told her that in the 20 years I was with Kevin we never established our own holiday traditions. I never made a holiday dinner at home for just the six of us. I always wanted to, but it just never came to fruition. Then he died.

Standing in her office doorway I said, "I'll never be able to have our own holiday dinner. I'll never have that chance." She jubilantly replied with a smile and a pointed finger, "Don't say that! You are young and have many years ahead of you." Get it? Do you get what she was saying? I got it right away and it pained me. I did not like it. I struggled to keep my composure. With a fake smile I wished her a happy Easter and returned to my office.

Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn