The life I shared with my husband, Jason, before he became ill was filled with joy and comfort. Like many fortunate individuals, I had only a vague awareness of how blissful our existence truly was. Since his passing, I often find myself reflecting on what our lives were like before his illness. To gain some clarity, I turned to my digital calendar to trace the moments that defined our days.
In early October, just before Jason began experiencing severe stomach pain, my calendar was brimming with entries like “Field trip with the kids,” “Fall picnic at school,” “Guitar lessons,” and “Dinner with friends.” It was such a normal, ordinary life.
As I reviewed those entries, I fell into a spiral of memories, seeking signposts that could explain our journey with his illness. I spent time trying to recall a birthday party one of our children attended—wondering if Jason had been home that day or bedridden. I reached out to friends to discuss past gatherings, questioning when they became aware of Jason’s declining health. When did our lives shift so dramatically?
While it is easy to pinpoint January 9th—the day Jason passed—as the moment my life changed irrevocably, I know the true turning point came earlier, around November 29th. That day, Jason returned from the hospital with news that could potentially indicate cancer. After a consultation with my father, a retired physician, we learned it could be stage IV. Despite the weight of the news, we clung to hope, believing it couldn’t be as dire as it seemed.
Later that day, I left Jason at home and went to a friend’s place to pick up our kids. I called my sister to wish her a happy birthday but didn’t mention our struggles, not wanting to spoil her special day. However, an hour later, she called back, tears in her voice. My heart dropped; her reaction spoke volumes. As an ER nurse, she had witnessed the harsh realities of illness and her emotions revealed the gravity of our situation. I stood in my friend’s daughter’s room, surrounded by stuffed animals, and thought, “Oh no. This is really happening.”
That night, I held Jason’s hand as we drifted off, though I was restless and couldn’t find solace. Thus began the harrowing journey of the following weeks—six weeks of torment, followed by two and a half months of uncertainty. It’s hard to believe that only four months ago, life felt normal. Perhaps I need to rewind even further, to late September when we enjoyed a camping trip with friends. Jason and I sat together, watching our children ride their scooters under the clear autumn sky. That weekend is a blur of happiness, and I yearn to grasp onto those moments.
Perhaps that camping trip was the last time I felt a true sense of bliss. Or maybe it was a simple evening watching a movie with Jason or seeing him walk our kids to school, their laughter echoing down the street. Those joyful routines are now hazy memories; when life is genuinely good, it often fades from our minds. I relished the small joys, but I never truly appreciated them until they were gone.
Now, I find myself grappling with this new reality. How do I navigate each day without succumbing to despair when Facebook reminds me of past moments with Jason, or when mundane tasks become overwhelming? How do I celebrate my kids’ milestones without sharing them with him?
I’m at a loss. After our first child was born, I remember standing in our living room, overwhelmed and questioning how I would manage. Now, I feel that same sense of uncertainty, but with the added weight of grief. With new parenthood, I had Jason beside me and a supportive community. Now, I am forging ahead alone.
This blog serves as my outlet to process my grief and to connect with others who may be on similar journeys. Writing helps me make sense of the chaos, and it’s a way to keep friends updated on my family’s well-being. I honestly don’t know how I’m doing this; perhaps it’s simply because there’s no alternative—I must keep moving forward.
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In summary, navigating life after the loss of a loved one is an arduous journey, filled with reflection and adaptation. While I struggle to understand my new normal, I find solace in writing and connecting with others who share similar experiences.