That is how long I have been widowed.

I believe I am making progress in many areas of my life. I am socializing again, back to cooking for one, keeping up with my bills, the house, the pool and the yard. I am living alone, but constantly trying to stay in touch with the world.

I am a survivor.

I look in the mirror when I feel down, and whenever I see something I don’t like? I talk to that sad person staring back at me; “You have survived much worse.” “Get cleaned up and do something- anything will do.” “There’s no time in this life to waste feeling sorry for yourself.”

When I was living a total nightmare during the great recession, I rose up from the ashes and made a new life for myself. I had lost my Mother, I survived extreme financial loss, a terrible divorce at age 50, and walked away from the dream house I built to live in an apartment. My heart was shattered, but I was determined then, and even more so now, to live and love life again.

I joined a private group for widows thinking it might help me, and it has only done one thing for me. It proved to me just how strong I really am! Most of these people live in the past- and not for just a couple of months. Some of these people have not started living after many years of grieving. They are absolutely stuck with both feet in quicksand and haven’t figured out that the more they struggle, the more they sink into grief. It seems as though that is how they identify themselves now- grieving widows. And you know what? That old saying “misery loves company” must have come from a group of people stuck in grief. The only reason I stay in the group is that I try to encourage some of them when appropriate. Otherwise, I’m out.

I don’t know what I have that they don’t, but I’d gladly share it with them if it would help them to heal. If I shared my tip of looking into the mirror and having a heart-to-heart pep talk with myself- would they think I’m crazy? Well if I am, I’m pretty good at it because I am out of the quicksand.

It doesn’t matter how much you loved, honored and cherished your spouse, you only have two choices when they die; join them or continue to live. That may sound harsh, but it’s true. I’m pretty sure the majority is going to choose life over death. However, many seem so stuck into death that they are not truly living at all.

I can’t be a part of that limbo- alive, but not living. I’d almost compare it to being on life support, and that’s just temporary until your body heals and your mind kicks into gear. Sooner than later, you gotta want to live in order to survive. I’m so scared of life support, that I won’t allow myself to get that bad, so I kicked into gear ahead of everyone.

Perhaps my writing will help kick someone else into gear. Read it out loud if you have to because audio people learn better when they hear something. So hear my brief message.

I’ve communicated this before; none of us are getting out of here alive. If you are suffering thru this process, try your best to keep out of the quicksand. Do not sit around talking to your dead spouse all day because they don’t answer. Try talking to yourself instead. Sound a little crazy? Well at least I am capable of answering. (Laughing a bit.) I am also listening because I get myself moving and I am feeling motivated again.

I don’t need to remind you that everyone and every relationship is different, but I just did anyway. 100 days for me is twice the length of time it took for my husband to pass. That means I have not really had a life for 150 days. That’s enough time for me to know that I want to enjoy living again and do something about it.

I used to say “I love my life” once I rose from the ashes at the end of 2010 and started thriving once more.

Step by step, day by day, I am working towards being able to say it again.

This hand written note from my dear friend is a constant reminder of what I’m capable of…

When you have traveled the entire US in a motorhome, the choices are endless as to finding that special place you may want to retire and settle down in for the rest of your life. I ought to know, because that’s exactly what my husband and I did for over 10 years.

As many of you know, we sold our house in 2017 and became full time in the big bus- a Tiffin RED nearly 40 feet long. It was my husband’s dream to drive a luxurious house on wheels over the highways of America in search of new sights to see, people to meet and new towns that would perhaps become home. How many people actually get to live out their dreams? My guess is, fewer than any of us would like to believe.

Okay. Curiosity got the best of me and I Googled it! A whopping 8% achieve their dreams/goals! No wonder my husband died with no regrets to speak of!

Now being single and living completely on my own, it’s like I have finished one book and attempting to start a new one.

Let me clarify what I mean by living on my own. I have absolutely no one living near me that I’m related to. My husband is deceased. My parents are deceased. My son who lives up north with my two Grandchildren are estranged (not by my choice, but as life turns out- it is rarely ever fair.) My Step Daughter and one more Grandchild also live up north. My brother and sisters and their families all live in the north. I live in the south. My friends here in the south are primarily snow birds, so they are around for approximately five months a year. This means I am totally without my people- the ones I know and socialize with and hang out with for over six months of the year.

Now, if I had more money, I would travel the entire summer season and return home about the same time my snowbird friends come back. But there is more than just money issues with that idea. I have a house with a pool (pool service doesn’t cover attending to your water level. At least the one I can afford doesn’t.) I am tied to maintenance unless I have more money. I am paying for lawn care (mowing), but I still maintain the weeds, the flowers, the bushes, etc. Unless…You guessed it- I pay more money! You can get any services you want down here with money and you need quite a bit of it.

Living in the south is absolutely wonderful during the winter months, but no one wants to work outside during the hot swampy summers in 90+ degrees. I sure don’t. So most of the answers to my issues are to have more money. If I get a job, I won’t be able to travel all summer. Not to mention, I am now 60 something. My career days are over, so finding a job that will pay me what I need to live the way I want and still have freedom??? Yeah, well…you know what they say; wish in one hand and 💩 in the other. I pretty much doubt that I’m gonna get rich quick at this stage of my life. I’m a Widow living the unchosen life- a member of the club with less income in my retirement than we had just a short 90 days ago. It’s life’s reality staring me in the face and not a whole hell-of-a-lot I can do about it.

So, the reality of my situation is this; I can afford my house here in the south and work a part time job. Or I can sell my house with the pool and get into something here without a pool and yard maintenance (Condo or active 55+ community with HOA’s or maintenance fees- and they don’t come cheap!) Or I can sell my house and head north where I would have friends and family around me all year long, but taxes, interest rates, home prices and moving costs might cause a major loss in capital that can’t be easily regained in my retirement years.

The bottom line is this. We all work towards the goal of financial security, and just when you think it all looks pretty good, life throws you a curve. The death of a spouse is not easy to take under the best of circumstances. If you throw in the loss of income, then you face paddling upstream against a strong current.

I have done pros and cons and it still comes down to one thing; my heart. Pros consist of family vs weather. Cons are taxes vs insurance. Hurricanes vs snowstorms. Blah blah blah. In the end, the perfect scenario will need to present itself in front of my brain to help push me in the right direction.

In the meantime, I am going north for a visit and meeting up with friends and family. I will see where my feelings are and if I get that rush that says “Wow, have I missed this!” Or I say to myself “Boy, I can’t wait to get back to my southern life!”

What do you think I will decide? What new book am I about to start? I would be happy just to turn the page and start a new chapter. I still have time to dream something new, I just need to figure out how to turn a dream into a reality on a tight budget.

I know I can do this. Stick with me and find out what lies ahead of me.

Will it be hurricanes or snowstorms?

Today I am reminded of just how insensitive and automated our world has become.

I keep getting messages from Cox Cable (You remember the story I told you about them cancelling our existing account and having to re-open a new one for me? With all new equipment?) Today’s message is: “How was your experience becoming a Cox Customer?” They want me to take a survey as a new customer after I have been a customer for 3 years now. My husband is no longer watching TV because he died- but I’m considered a new customer because I now watch TV alone with my new equipment that I didn’t need. How insensitive and frustrating! I want to tell them to shove their survey where the sun don’t shine! But, do I really want to go thru the hassle of changing service, having another credit check, and start all over with new equipment, antennas mounted, the whole nine yards of dealing with more of the same bullshit, just with a different company?

And it’s not just Cox Cable. Please allow me to share my recent experience with our Social Security Administration.

I received the death certificates about 10 days after my husband died. Once you receive the certified proof that your spouse is deceased, that is when you can proceed with dealing with the official notifications to military, social security, credit bureaus, mortgage company, car insurance, IRA’s, health insurance, dental insurance…oh I could go on forever! I think you have the picture.

I called Social Security in the beginning of February to advise them of my husband’s passing. (They were already notified because he was military.) They set up a phone appointment in April (yes, almost 2 months later), and I just had that call this past week before Easter.

This guy, who almost sounded like a robot, calls and confirms who he is and why he has called. He asks all the information about me- which honestly? They already have because I took early retirement and already collecting my benefit. After he asks me to verbally verify that I have supplied the correct information and under penalty of law, not committed perjury, he starts to advise me when I will start receiving my husband’s monthly benefit payments.

Whoah!! Stop the press and let me explain what happens next!

I know y’all might find this hard to believe, but I actually had a full blown life before I married my guy. I had a great paying career and was a successful business woman back in the day. Even though the great recession knocked me down a few pegs, I had already paid more into social security than the average Joe Schmoe. If I sound a little sarcastic? It’s because I am. Remember my tag line? “Truth served up with a side of sarcasm.” So here is a dose of reality that Alberto (SS Advisor) served up to me:

I thought I was signing up to receive a one-time benefit of $255.00 for death of a spouse that we are all eligible for once you prove your spouse is dead- thus, the death certificate. But, what Mr. Alberto really signed me up for, was my deceased husband’s Social Security benefits, because he assumed it would be higher than what I am currently collecting on my own benefit.

As he is wrapping up the application process, he starts to advise me when I could expect the new monthly payment to begin. “HOLD EVERYTHING” I said. I explained that I was confused by what he just said to me and clarified the reason for my call was to apply for the lump sum of $255 a one-time death payment. He proceeds to advise me that my husband’s payout would be more than mine, to which I replied “I believe you are mistaken- check the amounts.” I filed our taxes back in February and quickly pulled out our 1099 forms from SS and advised him again, that “I believe you are incorrect.”

Alberto, in his low and slow robotic voice, tells me to “hang on, wait just a minute while I check this out.” I hear him clicking away on the computer keyboard as I wait in silence. Finally, his voice methodically says to me, “YOU ARE CORRECT.” I wanted to say at the moment “NO SHIT SHERLOCK!” because he should have known this! After all, I am speaking with a Social Security Advisor who should know every detail of my life! But now, there is an application in the system to screw up my monthly SS amount that he informed me could not be unapproved until probably Monday. He proceeds to tell me that I’m qualified for the $255 payout and that I should receive it sometime next week.

Now, I may be just a bit more skeptical after dealing with all these after-death procedures, phone calls and hours of being on hold with government workers, but somehow, I believe that Alberto is going to forget to disqualify that application today, and sometime in the not-too-distant future, I am going to get a smaller check.

Do you think someone is going to catch this huge mistake???

I know what you’re thinking…Perhaps I should have called today and followed up with Social Security to make sure that application was trashed, right? But, in case you don’t know this, you wait almost an hour to get a representative, but they don’t really do anything except field the incoming calls. They would probably schedule me for another phone appointment to actually speak to Alberto, or someone else that actually advises as he does, and that will take longer than getting my next check! So, I have decided to wait this out and see what happens next. I’m just tired of dealing with Stupid.

You do realize that none of this would have happened if it was not assumed that “the wife” draws less than “the husband”? It is a fact that women are still treated differently in this country than men when it comes to business and money. I have experienced it from day one. Even friends and family have made the same casual assumption. I am also 100% sure that my husband would be collecting a bigger check if I had died first, because he obviously, yet quietly, knew that mine was bigger than his.

Being in this Widows Club is not for the faint of heart and you have no choice. Many Widows die within a short time of their spouse and people always say that they died from a broken heart. For some, that may be true. But, as for me, I believe it is due to the shock and disbelief to one’s system that is simply more than a body can withstand.

First, you suffer through the prolonged tests and diagnoses. Next, you face decisions that you never think of- decisions of getting affairs in order that should have been done in advance, but rarely ever are. Then you become a caretaker, nurse, hospital housekeeper, errand runner and field medical calls all day. At the end of the day when you are exhausted, you become the informer, as all your family and friends are waiting to hear updates from you. As time grows thin and running out, you start making final arrangements and emotionally triggered into shock and despair. Then you get to say goodbye. You get to look into the dying eyes of your loved one and tell them stuff you’ve never rehearsed for, but it’s your final act of kindness and love with no do-overs- no second take. You go home to a house full of medical equipment with no patient.

You are left feeling abandoned by your spouse- alone, and in the deafening silence of your home, you keep remembering every moment every day for days on end of the dying, the disease, the pain and the suffering. Most of us are not built for this type of exposure to someone dying in front of your eyes. You have PTSD, whether diagnosed or undiagnosed. You seek help from your Doctor because you know your body isn’t right. They recommend medications, they advise you to get grief counseling, join a group, anything to help you with the lack of sleep and loneliness that has permeated your life. The reality is you watched your person wither and die. It is only natural that some of us handle this better than others. It is common for people to die after all this trauma to their bodies, not from a broken heart, but from the stress and emotional toll to their bodies and from neglect of personal health and well being during this tragic circumstance.

Are you a member of this club? It doesn’t have to be your spouse. I know several people that have buried a child. I know many of us have gone thru these very same things with a parent or parents. But only a spouse earns you the “W” club. For some reason, they decided years ago to brand you as a “Widow” when your spouse dies, and so you join the club whether you like it or not.

I said I would help others thru this ordeal, and I know for a fact that I already have. You can expect 90 days of your life to be wrapped up with tying up lose ends and getting paid. If anyone makes a mistake, you can expect it to take even longer. So today’s advice is this: You will have to survive without a steady income or a major decrease of income for 3-6 months minimum. Life insurance would be a huge help to ensure that happens, but having a savings account with accessible money that will last you 6 months is highly advisable and is what kept me from despair. You must be able to pay all your bills during this 6 months or you will be dealing with financial carnage and credit issues.

Lastly, I will say that the one thread that is common to every single Widow is; the silence is deafening. It is the loneliest sound you will ever hear. It cannot be compared to anything else. It’s not like a divorce where choices were made and you knew it was coming. You have no time to adjust to death. One minute they are alive, and the next, you are alone. They are gone forever from this earth no matter what you believe- afterlife or not. You are never going to have another conversation, another hug, another disagreement, another road trip with them here again.

I drove to the Comfort Lodge with my husband in my car. Imagine knowing you are backing out of your driveway with your person alive and knowing they will never return to this place we called home. Just imagine him seeing his house and his yard for the very last time. Imagine the heaviness in my heart that I would rather be anywhere but where I was in that moment- knowing he had to be under 24/7 care at this point and filled with so much fear that he would fall trying to get out of bed or stop breathing in the middle of the night if he had stayed another day.

Imagine every time you close your eyes that you hear and see these sights over and over again. No one can imagine this because we won’t allow ourselves to deal with death. And when it comes, we are not prepared, nor can we unsee what we have seen.

They say never to make a major decision after a death because your brain needs time to heal. How much time is needed? How much time do you have? I don’t have the answer to this, but I know I feel frozen in time. I can’t seem to move forward and I can’t go back. I only know two things right now; my family is up north and so is winter. I know houses are still over-priced, especially up north. Condos are priced even worse because they count the condo fees or HOA’s as part of your payment when qualifying your income-to-debt ratios for a mortgage. I feel stuck and yet I want to run away. For now, I am paying someone to take care of my yard and that is progress…

In my last blog titled “Lost”, I truly felt lost and confused as I wrote it. I had several people reach out to me after reading it and I would like to say how much I appreciated their kind words and invitations to get together. I certainly plan to follow up with them and hopefully make it happen.

I also mentioned giving other Widows advice as I live and learn thru this unchosen life. I had no idea when I wrote those words that people were already telling others to read my blog. If you are one of those people reading this right now; I want to welcome you and remind you that none of us are getting out of here alive– so it’s best to plan ahead.

I am going to pass on advice as I receive it, but I also cannot stress enough the power of friendship in this process.

Please continue to read on, and perhaps, you too will tell someone you know that is newly widowed to read my blog. But honestly? Anyone that is married or legally bound to another person should be taking this advice as serious as a heart attack! You never know when you or your partner’s time is up.

I recently experienced the power of friendship and how it can affect your perspective during tough times and would like to share it with you.

I know how hard it is to get out of bed in the morning after not sleeping well and to try and motivate yourself to do something- anything that requires a shower, maybe some makeup and going out in public to see or visit people. But here’s what it did for me: It proved to me that friends still want to be around you even if they don’t know exactly what to say. It showed me that they don’t call laughter the best medicine for nothing. Even if you don’t feel up to visiting- push yourself to go and be around people you enjoy for short periods of time. Planning to go visit some friends gave me a reason to get up, clean up, and make myself look nice, which definitely affects how you feel about yourself. It also proves to you that people really do listen and care about you. This dismisses random thoughts that no one cares or understands what you’re going thru. I shared a delicious homemade meal with them and didn’t have to cook (huge bonus for someone who doesn’t want to cook a meal for one.) I also met another Widow, which made me realize that I’m not alone and that there is always someone that has things worse than you do. This helps you become more focused.

Not to mention that they shared their beautiful scenic ranch with me and built a bonfire that we spent the cool and breezy evening sitting around its warmth while sharing conversation. It seemed to pull me right up by my bootstraps and I actually enjoyed my day and didn’t feel lonely or sad, as has become all too normal.

I have a great friend that lives locally during the winter that has been here for me from the moment I learned my husband was terminally ill. She happens to be a financial advisor and certified in all aspects of life stages and planning. I can say without hesitation that without her friendship and her professional guidance that I would be in a world of hurt and confusion. To be more blunt; I would be in deep poo!

She always inspires me and passes on professional advice and I would like to pass on to you a tidbit of what I learned today from a podcast with Ric Adelman, one of the nation’s most acclaimed financial advisors:

1) There are 20 million Widows & Widowers in the US today (let’s just refer to all of them as Widows going forward).

2) 1.4 million people will lose their spouses every year (15% are white women, 24% are black women- ALL likely to become poor).

3) The average age of a wife to become a widow is 59 years old.

4) 67% of women suffer a loss of income and 1/2 of them will lose 1/2 of their income.

5) Women that become Widows in their retirement years will lose about 1/3 of their income according to the GAO (Government Accountability Office).

6) 26% will move to lower cost housing.

These are some astounding facts that I bet no one even thinks about until they become a Widow. If someone doesn’t give advice to married people, more people will become a part of these statistics. More women will become poor and feel helpless. My guess is, the only reason why some married folks don’t face these facts ahead of pending disaster is because they might not be able to afford professional guidance, or one of the two is not willing to discuss or spend money on death planning. I refer to it as death planning because we are all going to die, yet no one wants to plan it. Do people actually believe if you don’t discuss it that it won’t happen? Well my husband also believed that health was simply a mind over matter power, but obviously, you can’t desire to live forever and actually live forever.

The bottom line of today’s podcast was exactly what I said last week; Talk about these things, get advice and plan ahead. Talk to a financial planner, estate attorney, tax advisor- anyone that knows more than you about what will follow after the death of your spouse. It is imperative that a married couple talks openly about illness and the inevitable before it happens, or the trauma is made far worse than it has to be, due to financial hardship.

Ask yourself the important questions about when you will die- who is going to pick up the tab? Do you have life insurance that will cover the burial expenses you desire? Will you be leaving a spouse or children in debt? I believe these three questions are enough for now to kick start your brain and get it thinking about your pending death because it is in pending status every single day.

My advice for today- friendship is priceless and get professional guidance about how death will financially affect you and your loved ones before it’s too late. We’ve all heard it a million times; “tomorrow isn’t promised”, but a Widow truly understands how your next breath could be your last…

If you are one of the people that have called, texted, emailed or sent me a card; I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me. If you are local and have visited me, made time for coffee, lunch or dinner with me; I can’t express my appreciation enough for lifting my spirits more than you realize. If you don’t know my husband died of cancer in January, I guess you don’t know me very well or follow me on Facebook.

I have had several people reach out to me if they don’t see me post anything in days and I truly appreciate those three simple words “Are you okay?” I feel like I am doing okay for someone who has been thrown into a world of shock, cancer, death and post death trauma. But I really am lost for words when asked if I’m okay. I simply react most of the time like being poked and quickly respond “yes.”

Not only am I lost for words, I am unable to make good decisions, have difficulty getting out of bed and don’t want to face the loneliness of another day. There’s a bunch of yard work to do, house cleaning to be done, bills to pay, phone calls to make, unending follow up with important matters, and I don’t want to do any of it- but do it anyway. Some days last forever, some days don’t. I just know that I have absolutely no clue what the hell I’m going to do most days and the feeling starts fresh every single morning. It’s like a thick heavy fog rolls over my house at dawn and surrounds my existence. If I’m lucky, someone calls or texts me and snaps me out of my fog.

Then after I eat something every evening, I feel like the fog rolls over me once again. I face the nights like a game I never win. Unwilling to call it quits- I toss and I turn in my bed relentlessly until I finally get up and make a cup of tea with honey and bourbon. I cannot win this game, so I play it over and over again.

If you have lost a spouse, I am guessing this sounds all too familiar. However, every relationship is different and that is why grieving is never the same for any two people. But simply put; I feel like I don’t belong anywhere right now and nothing comes into focus. There are times I can’t remember things or even find the words to speak.

I have certainly been alone before and I’ve done everything that I am doing now before. But that was over 12 years ago. I was younger, healthier and was willing and able to handle the load. I was single and viewed everything I did simply as what needed to be done and I was very happy. Now? I feel stranded. I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t have enough time to prepare and I don’t like this sinking feeling. I am lost and I am fighting to find happiness. I know it’s “too soon” but I want it now because I know what the stinging reality of not being promised tomorrow feels like. I have just witnessed it with my husband’s death.

Our friends are all couples and overnight- now I’m not. I don’t have any single friends here. I do know other Widows that didn’t ask to be single, but don’t live near me either. My close friends are snowbirds and will soon be gone. I am dreading that day. I have no family living near me.

And then there is the most important decisions concerning finances. I took an early retirement because I could. My husband provided health insurance all the years we traveled, which enabled me to retire early. But now my check is less and I have to consider going back to work at retirement age. This is not something you think about until it’s thrown at you like a brick. While most people my age are excited about retiring and traveling, I have been there and done that and looking at returning to work. It’s ass backwards and it’s my unchosen life.

People have asked me, “So what is it that you would like to do?” or “What do you enjoy doing?”

I have been running a household, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry and all the other things you do when you’re married. We travelled extensively in our motorhome for 10 years, enjoyed happy hours by the beach, explored charming new towns, discovered waterfront lunch spots, planned get-togethers with friends from all over the country. That’s what I enjoy doing. I have written this blog for over 5 years sharing all of these adventures with thousands of readers. That is what I am used to doing. I have not pictured myself going back to work or thought about what I would do when my husband dies (something he never ever wanted to discuss), but that is where you find yourself when your husband dies with no life insurance and no plan.

I can not answer this serious question of what I would like to do. I just know that I hate feeling lost and confused every day.

I have explored opportunities and we are not living in the best of times. Apartment living is more expensive than my house, but comes with freedom from yardwork. Condo’s come with a huge HOA price tag that buys you that freedom from yardwork, but certainly no freedom from a hefty monthly bill, maintenance or repairs. I can pay for landscaping where I live, but owning a house with a pool by yourself is no easy task. It is a different story when you are suddenly faced with all the outdoor work on top of everything you already do, and then add a job into the mix when you are supposed to be retired. That’s why we bought the house with a pool in the first place! To entertain and enjoy life. My husband loved landscaping and working outside, but that was his passion- not mine. He wasn’t interested in Condo living, or paying HOA’s, and now it’s all on me to figure out the answers for what is best and what is affordable for me. Anger is one of the other feelings I struggle with and it’s very difficult to explain to people on the outside looking in.

All these decisions, and yet, my brain is mush! I can’t even figure out what to eat most days because I’m not used to fixing meals for one.

So there you have it. Life after death of a spouse. Shock, horror, death, after death reality- PTSD sets in, can’t sleep, can’t think, can’t decide what’s right for yourself, like where you should live or what you should live in. And the kicker is; where should you go to work so you can actually afford to make these life-changing decisions?

There is no secret to unlock here, just the sounds of reality. Living on half of what you had during times of inflation will not lead to some secret garden of Eden where happiness abounds. There is no grief counseling that helps you with your financial plan that only benefited the spouse that died. There is no doctor or psychologist that can figure out any of these life changes for you. There is no happy pill that I am willing to take because I don’t want to live without emotions. There is just me and reality and a house with a pool that needs tending to.

Writing is my outlet. It is my truth served up with a side of sarcasm. I struggled a bit to find the words today, but I guess my mush brain is still working. I believe my next few blogs might be to help others, especially women, who might find themselves walking in my shoes. For anyone living with a man that never wants to discuss the “what ifs”, I definitely have some advice for you; when they say “Everything will be okay”, do not fall for that. Do not ignore the issue. It is just a diversion because they don’t want to deal with it. So guess what? You better deal with it before you find yourself in my world of reality! Taking care of a dying husband is bad enough and the aftermath is inevitable. The last thing anyone needs in this situation is a financial crisis when a vacation from reality would be more beneficial.

Stay tuned for more on this subject because I have a feeling I’m not the only woman who was married to a man that said “Everything will be okay.” I believe I will start a Preceding Death Counseling service because grief counseling will do nothing to solve most of your problems…

And my final wave goodbye…

October 20th, 2010 was the day Roger and I had our “Meet Cute” at the Corkscrew in Medina. If you don’t understand that term, I am referring to a favorite movie The Holiday when Arthur (played by Eli Wallach) explains to Iris (played by Kate Winslet) about two people meeting in the pajama department- one looking for just a top and the other looking for just the bottoms, leading to the “cute” circumstances that bring them together. Everyone that knows us knows how Roger and I met that day. He was looking for a single woman to travel with in his RV, and I was deep in discussion with the bartender about life, but raised my hand jokingly like a little girl gesturing “pick me” after hearing his question out loud to Marissa! The rest of the story has led us to here and Roger’s journey on earth has ended.

Our relationship started off with a bang. Private messages on Facebook led to texting, which started a flurry of meeting out and getting to know one another over cocktails and dinner. Eventually, our first real date where he actually picked me up at my place was for a walk in the park, followed by a Clambake at his friend’s house with a huge bonfire and shots of Jager going around. That led to an invitation to dinner at his place, and then a fairytale weekend at the log cabin on Lake Buckhorn, where we eventually would marry by the Falls.

The first month was surreal as we had so many things in common- even our Granddaughter’s were 3 months apart in age and we both loved Italy and traveling. We had actually walked down the same streets in Florence (years apart) and shared experiences, including Harry’s Bar and the Piazza della Signoria (the historical square in front of Palazzo Vecchio.)

I was at a point of enormous change in my life brought on by the great recession and I was about to enter the biggest change of all after raising my hand.

I am not going to share the entire story at the risk of being repetitive, but we married two years after we met, and we traveled around the country for ten years in three different RV’s. We started out with weekends and vacations and graduated to snowbirds spending 5 months in the Keys dating back to 2013. We did the unthinkable and sold our house and traveled full time until 2020 when we bought our cottage home in the South.

Why does any of this matter? Because when someone is on their death bed, the last thing you want to hear is regrets. Roger voiced no regrets to his daughter about their life together, nor to me upon the last days of his life. I truly believe that the day I raised my hand, I unknowingly fulfilled his dream to travel and enjoy life to the fullest. We had a good life.

Roger was diagnosed with terminal cancer on December 27th and died on January 26th. His PET scan was on January 6th and I arranged for in-home Hospice just a few days later. There was no other course of action and the Oncologist said Hospice was the right choice and keeping him comfortable was my only goal.

We never got a second chance for our Christmas “Eve” Eve dinner that we had to cancel because Roger had pneumonia. We never got a second chance to have dinner or Happy Hour with Cheryl and Dave after it had to be canceled. The Doctor gave us an approval form to get Roger a Handicap tag for his truck and we never had the chance to pick it up before he was too weak to drive. I asked him what I should do about the insurance on the truck because it would be due soon in February. I will never forget the look in his eyes when he said to me “I won’t be here in February.” I could not respond.

I was worried that he might have to go to a skilled nursing facility if he became too sick for me to handle at home alone, but he ended up needing Hospice Comfort care quickly. I wondered what would happen in six months if he outlasted the time Hospice gives you, and he only made it to 17 days on Hospice care. The last 6 days were in a facility with 24/7 care with his same team of unbelievably good nurses and skilled caretakers. I was advised on January 23rd by our Social Worker to make arrangements with the Funeral home we had chosen, and they sent someone right to our house so we could expedite the procedure quickly, as Roger was getting closer to making his exit.

I worried and I cried. I watched my husband go from weakness and fatigue to dying and death in what seemed like eternity and an instance- all at the same time. Our house went from our home to a nursing facility with essential equipment in less than 24 hours. I went from a wife to a full time nurse administering drugs to keep Roger comfortable. I never slept but a few hours at a time waking up with every one of his battles to breathe and in need of my help. And yet, there were all of the other details of life just waiting for me- like grocery shopping, paying bills, drugstore runs, laundry, and making something to eat. None of that stops just because your husband is dying and my days seemed to disappear from sun up to sun down. But to Roger, each day felt like forever. I was so alone and I was so scared. I thought he might die in the middle of the night, yet that thought was almost comforting- not to see him tortured anymore by the cancer that rapidly consumed his body.

When Roger’s Daughter and Granddaughter came, they also worried and they cried. Once our Granddaughter left, our Daughter returned alone to help ease the planning process with her Dad, and we all discussed exactly what he wanted when his life here was over. The arrangements were that I would get him through his final journey here in Florida, and then take some time to recover. The torch would then be passed to his Daughter to take charge of the arrangements for her Dad’s internment once I got his remains shipped back home to the National Cemetery in Ohio.

That time came quickly and Roger is now home as I write this. He arrived in Ohio on February 6th and the plans for his Full Honors Ceremony are completed.

There is more crying to be done, but I won’t be returning home until I am ready to celebrate. Yes, I said celebrate. I want to be surrounded by all those we started our relationship with and enjoy sharing stories, have a few laughs and talk about the good times we all had.

A celebration of a life that was once vibrant and full of adventure and excitement. A life that I agreed to when I raised my hand. A life I will not soon forget.

BUT, I need to heal and I need to move forward. I find myself living in our past daily as memories pop up on Facebook and I have numerous conversations with friends and family. The fact is, I haven’t lived a life at all since the day Roger went to the Doctor for pain in his upper chest on December 6th. I’ve lived every day to take him to appointments, to the hospital, to the Doctor visits, and eventually to take care of him 24/7. I helped get all of his affairs in order, which is painstakingly difficult with paperwork and phone calls, all while I was taking care of him, and now it continues after he is gone. No man can fully understand how difficult this process is for the Wife left behind. The husband that has everything in his name will never have to deal with his loss of identity when his wife dies. His life continues just as it was- just without her in it. My life has been thrown into turmoil because “they” don’t just remove my husband’s name from our accounts. They close the accounts and you are forced to open new ones. Luckily for me, I was able to start that process before Roger died. I now have several of my own accounts, but it took me over a month to establish my own identity and you are treated as a newbie.

Just one example: Our cable company had to remove ALL the perfectly good equipment a couple days ago, run a soft credit check on me to open my new account, and installed ALL new equipment before anything would work after I made that phone call. A husband wouldn’t have had to report any changes what so ever and would have been watching football, while I had to watch a DVD because I had no service for over 24 hours. This is reality- Life after Death if you’re a woman dealing with the loss of your husband. Reality is a bugger! I would have waited to make that initial call, but I needed to reduce my monthly bill and couldn’t make changes to our existing account without Roger. BOOM!

It is time for me to step back and let my recovery begin. I believe I am suffering from PTSD of sorts accompanied by my usual anxiety and under Doctor’s care for stomach issues.

Roger will be laid to rest on Monday and my new life will also begin that day. I will begin it alone.

I have to figure out what I will do with the rest of my life and where I will go from here. I will be doing it alone and that is not easy after living under the same roof with a husband 24/7 since the day we retired. We moved into an RV, and later our home and always together. Even when we weren’t together, we were still connected. Not to mention the loss of income that will surely sting, as many widows I know have dealt with.

This is one of the most difficult tasks of all- figuring out who I want to be and how I want to live my life for the remaining time I have left here.

The opportunities are endless, yet scary. This is “The End” of our chapter together and a new story is about to begin.

An update on Roger:

Tuesday, Jan 17th, Hospice gathered Roger’s team of Caregivers for a Pinning Ceremony, which honors a patient who has served in the military.

Most military people are honored during the day of interment with an Honors Ceremony followed by a 21 gun salute and “Taps” are played. The flag is precisely folded and handed to a designated person with a plaque signed by the President of the USA. It is a very emotional service for family members and close friends, as this is their final goodbye with Honors.

Honoring a terminal patient while they are still very much alive is even more of a special honor and extremely emotional for family or friends in attendance. You are looking into the eyes of a once vibrant soldier, a once very healthy man, hard worker, Husband, Father, Friend while listening to “God Bless the USA” sung by Lee Greenwood in the background.

I was so happy that his Daughter was here for this, as she was raised by her Dad while he served in the military. She has many wonderful memories from living in so many places. She is very well traveled and well spoken from her years of service with her Dad. She has a successful career and a beautiful daughter that will be attending College this Fall.

Also in attendance was two of our best friends that we met back in 2013. They are man and wife and both Army Retirees that we met in Key West on a military campground while spending our first winter as snow birds.

David Farrell, Chief Warrant Officer Five Retired- CW5 (Ret), is also the pilot of a Cessna Skylane 182 and took Roger on a Taco run to Arcadia, FL just weeks ago on December 6th. There is no way on God’s green earth that either of these two men knew that Roger would be seeing the Doctor the very next morning for pain in his chest, which has led us to this moment in time.

Cheryl Farrell, Major Retired- MAJ (Ret) is my close friend that I often call my “Sister from another Mother.” She has been my support system thru this process of unbelievable anguish and total frustration. She poignantly took the lead at the ceremony when it came time for someone to place the pin on Roger’s shirt and presented an honorary plaque to him after reading it out loud. Roger was looking down to hold back his tears, when suddenly, Major Cheryl Farrell gave him his final salute. When she realized he couldn’t see her doing it, she eloquently and firmly ordered “Sargent Turner- Look at me” as he slowly lifted his head and raised his tear-filled eyes up to hers, he could see that she was saluting him as the remainder of us quietly sobbed a few more tears.

My friends, what can I tell you? Who gets to witness such dignity and pride? One Soldier giving a Falling Soldier one final honor, one final command and one final salute? I ask anyone reading this- how could anything at a gravesite top this final gift given by a treasured friend and fellow member of the Armed Forces?

I have no words…

Cara and I thank you for giving us this moment to treasure among the many sad moments during her final visit with her Dad. There are no words for the traumatic week we have had.

This is dedicated to anyone struggling with cancer, whether you’re the patient or the family. Everyone suffers…

And no one knows when it will happen.

December 6th 2022, Roger and his good buddy David did a Taco Tuesday fly-in to Arcadia, Florida. He looked forward to the flight after David invited him the day before and Roger said something like “long way to go for a taco.” We laughed a little and I thought “Well, isn’t life about the journey?” That’s how RVers rolled in our ten years of travel.

Roger was an Air Traffic Controller in the Air Force and has always had a passion for airplanes. He often told me he wished he knew how to fly, but as life would have it, it wasn’t on the priority list. On the other hand- owning an RV certainly was.

Oh how he loved talking to the Air Force pilots back in the good old days and now often watches pilots on Flight Tracker and various other sights just for entertainment.

Taco Tuesday rolled around with a little fog in the morning, but clearing skies made it a beautiful day for a taco. LOL! You thought I was going to say a beautiful day for flying, but as it turned out, a little bit bumpy. That never bothers Roger, but if it were me, I might have lost my Taco! I know all of this because every time he flies with David, he comes home and tells me with a touch of excitement in his voice how it went from start to finish. I always listen intently because I fly in little planes vicariously through him. I need a little more plane between me and the ground!

Why am I telling you all of this? Because it marks the calendar for the course of events that followed.

As it turned out, Roger felt some pain in his chest getting in and out of the airplane on Taco Tuesday and never said a word about it until the next morning. He told me he had a bad pain across his chest and that maybe he should go to the emergency room. I started asking the important questions about the pain and he did not appear to be in any coronary distress as he answered them, so I suggested he call our Primary Care Physician to see if he should go to the ER. They asked him some of the very same questions I did and determined if he could get to the office to go in right away (they are across the street from our hospital.)

An X-ray was done and all his vitals were okay. But an X-ray led to a CT scan, which led to a Pulmonologist, followed by a bronchoscopy (Merry Christmas), which confirmed a large inoperable tumor found in his trachea leading to his upper right lung- which was collapsed. A Biopsy confirmed that he had a very aggressive small cell neuroendocrine carcinoma. Cancer of the worst kind. An Oncologist was called in and ordered an MRI and a PET scan, but Roger decided to celebrate a Happy New Year with a ride to the ER after he could hardly breathe with a side of lightheadedness, resulting in a 3 day visit, and I’m not talking about the Ritz. His MRI was conducted in the hospital exactly one month after he flew with David. The PET scan was conducted a couple days after his release at a cancer center.

In this very short amount of time (only on the calendar- but an eternity to us!) my husband’s health had deteriorated to the point of WTH (my cleaned up version of WTF!) If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I would not believe that one day you go for a plane ride for tacos and a month later you need a wheelchair to get in and out of a cancer center. I will probably never get over the shock of it all and I feel like a computer spitting out words when I speak them to family members and friends to try and explain the unexplainable.

How does this happen? Do we explain away our symptoms? “Well I’m not as young as I used to be.” “The heat just kicked my ass out there!” “My back hurts- must have been the way I slept.” “Wow- that pizza didn’t sit too well.” “Something I ate gave me terrible indigestion!” Tums here I come.

Sound familiar? Well that is also what happens when you have a cancerous tumor larger than a golf ball in your chest spreading cancer cells to your bones and liver, as it turns out, at least in Roger’s case. We were advised to get his affairs in order.

We worked out the best plan and the best care for Roger with a team of Doctors and nurses, but we don’t know much more beyond what I have explained. His follow up with the Oncologist is too little, too late. Perhaps a written report or a telephone conference because Roger is too weak for me to get him to an appointment. There will be no falling on my watch. He will remain at home with my help and the kind and caring people of Hospice until whenever comes.

So for now my friends, we appreciate your thoughts and prayers to keep Roger as comfortable as can be, but Hospice is assisting me with his home health care for this new kind of journey.

I wonder if he will fly over or go by way of six wheels down? It’s anyone’s guess, but he got to do both while he lived here. Ten years of exploring this country and seeing things that both of us, as children, could only have imagined- wasn’t so bad. Live with no regrets because we never know when tomorrow’s too late. I still have the signed application for a handicap tag for Roger’s truck that we never had time to get at the BMV. Life changes in an instant…

Better known as “Blue Christmas”

I have recently seen on social media or heard in conversations that several people aren’t feeling it this year, or having a hard time getting in the spirit (or mood) for their usually “fun old fashioned Christmas.” I decided to approach this subject in an effort to bring some good cheer to my fellow friends and family on the subject.

WARNING: This is an opinion piece and may contain some of my usual humor served up with a side of sarcasm.

Let’s not beat around the bush. Every single Christmas is different, and let’s face it- some are way better than others. You know what they say about vacations; you can’t appreciate the good times without having any bad times. We’ve all experienced a bad vacation that was supposed to drag our ass up to the summit of our happy place only to fall back down to the reality of life sucking the happy out of ya! The bottom line is this, Christmas will come and go and not all of us will be on the happy train when it blows thru. (Can you hear Chevy Chase’s voice in your head right now?)

Let me dig down a little deeper here by going back to our roots of Christmas. What does Christmas mean to you?

To some, it is the celebration of the birth of Jesus, which brings tidings of great joy to everyone. To others, it may just mean you have to spend a wad of money buying presents for everyone. (You know this is true.) Yet, others are entrenched in the value it brings. Retailers and wholesalers spend big money to make more money off of us every year. I think the majority of us would agree it is a fun time of year with colorful lights and festive gatherings that brings us all a bit more joy and happiness- no matter the reason why. Knowing what it means to you is a good place to start in order to understand why you may feel the way you do.

If you look at it through business eyes, you are not going to feel good if sales are tanking and supply chains fail. If you look at it as a chore to buy presents, host parties, attend family & friend’s gatherings; you are going to feel stressed when things don’t go as planned. If you look at it from the religious side as the birth of Christ, you have nothing to fear because a birthday is a birth date and nothing can change it- not even death. We are a society of wishing dead people a happy birthday in heaven because we never want to let go of them. Memories of the ones we love is what helps us through some of our worst times in life, so do whatever makes you happy.

Here is some reality. There are people that are steeped in family tradition that enriches their holidays when they relive the best ones over and over again. By enacting those heartfelt traditions throughout a lifetime, joy always seems to fill them to the brim during the most festive time of the year. Eventually, those traditions will change, as life inevitably changes when loved ones move out of state, serve in the military, or much worse- people die and permanently leave a void. These realities leave us with a huge gaping hole in our hearts at Christmas because the ones we love are no longer here with us to continue the fun-filled sentimental traditions. Some of these traditions will fade when lives are lost. Those left behind are forced to start new ones or let go of them and Christmas may lose its grip over us to make us feel the “happy” we yearn for every year.

Have you ever noticed what usually makes a scroogie person a scrooge? Why don’t they like Christmas? Why don’t they feel festive or like the celebrations? Perhaps it is because they have never felt the joy or happiness it can bring. It could be because of living a lifetime of loneliness with no one to celebrate with or losing loved ones that started the traditions and now they’re simply lost without them. Some people don’t have any family traditions or have never learned the true meaning of Christmas or believe in Christ. There are too many reasons to list here, but I believe it is okay to be a scrooge. Retailers are making huge profits off of The Grinch merchandise, so there’s that. As long as the Grinches out there are not trying to convert you to grinchism, let them be.

So ask yourself this; what feels off this year? Are you missing someone in your life? Are your finances or job affecting your thoughts and decisions? Is your health failing? Is your relationship over or off kilter? Did your children move away from home? Are you missing your Grandchildren?

You get the idea here. Christmas is coming and maybe you’re not feeling the joy because someone or something is weighing heavily on your mind. Let’s face it. Christmas is not a cure to end all sadness and it’s perfectly okay to feel sad during the holidays. It’s OK to be a Grinch when you feel the urge and you don’t need permission from anyone to do so.

I speak from experience and from the heart. If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you already know this. So let me say this to anyone listening. When someone says they aren’t feeling it this year? Don’t try to make them feel it or play the fixer. You can’t fix the way someone feels. Try listening to them instead. Ask them if they would like to share what’s on their mind or in their heart. If they say they don’t know why they are feeling down? I’m guessing it may be something instinctive or depressing and they may not be able to put it into words or share it.

My friendly Holiday advice would be to listen. Open your hearts, your eyes, and your ears and just listen. Be present if someone is in need of your ears, but don’t try to fix them. Smile or do something kind instead. It is the best medicine for anyone who is struggling through Christmas. These are the people that need our gifts most; a cup of coffee, a gift card, flowers, a small token of appreciation- anything that gives them a little hope that someone gives a damn is what they need. Most of us have all been there at some point in our lives, and no matter what you’ve been raised to believe about Christmas- it truly is about giving of yourself.

Forget about that list that seems to keep growing. Once you hit your sixties, you’re happy to be experiencing another Christmas and you should be celebrating every day your feet hit the floor! Not everyone makes it to 70 or 80, and even if you do, you might not like the condition of your body and health when you get there! So start a new tradition called saying No when you don’t want to do something. You don’t have to explain why if you don’t want to. A simple “No, but thank you” is the only response required.

I have many friends and family members that are cancer survivors, but I also know many snowbirds that didn’t survive to make another trip south. Many of us have lost both of our parents or a spouse, or even a child. We owe no one an explanation for the decisions we make or the feelings we may have. But showing an act of kindness and giving someone a small token of appreciation or a little gift is priceless! A simple pat on the back, or a hug, a phone call, text or hand written note could be the one tiny act of kindness that turns this Christmas into a better holiday for someone in need. Big, costly or fancy is not on this list.

So here’s a tip for you: If you’re on social media like Facebook, spend a couple of minutes “liking” what friends have to say and show you care- if you do. Sometimes we spend a lot of time on unimportant things like reading an entire article that leads to hitting the laughing face or angry face. But seeing one short post from a Facebook friend you care about gets a big fat nothing button. Is it really that easy to make someone feel unnoticed or unimportant? Yes! It is. Making a difference in someone’s life is as simple as hitting a button that shows a thumbs up instead of searching for stupid meaningless crap. We’ll follow a politician or a corporation like Amazon, Walmart, or news stations, but we’ll ignore someone we know that has “liked” your small business every time you’ve asked. Which person are you? The asker (taker) or the one that always hits like and follow (the giver)? Let that sink in for a second.

Show someone you care the next time you hear they are feeling out of it this year. I know people that are my Facebook friends that I hardly ever see in person because I moved away, but these people that I see doing good for others are always present and on my mind. I call them the “Do Gooders” because I know they care. I comment, share or “like” their posts. Then there are those I see doing absolutely nothing but taking up air. As I said before…take the good with the bad, but be the reason someone smiles today.

Make the effort to be a Do Gooder and bring a smile to someone’s face this Holiday. I promise I’m the one that will “like” and “follow” you if you’re that person.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

It’s just the little things

Over six months ago, I scheduled a flight to return home to Ohio. My little Sister’s youngest child- my Nephew, was getting married in October 2022. It would be a chance to enjoy a lot of my family for this happy occasion and my favorite time of year. Fall colors would start to glow amidst the deep blue skies with cooler temperatures. I would be home wearing sweaters and jeans and that was exciting to me! I immediately started planning what I was going to wear. My big Sis said “OMG! It’s six months from now and you’re already planning your outfits!” We laughed on the phone, but that is how excited I was!!

I got sick with Covid at the end of April and it was not pleasant. It took a full week for my health to round the bend, but after 10 days, I was confident I was going to kick Covid’s butt and live to see my family once more. This might sound a bit melodramatic to some, but this was serious. My immune system is not good, and it was my Mother’s lungs that failed her in death, so it’s like a bad case of PTSD for me. If I can’t breathe, well, you get the idea. Panic sets in. But I survived.

May 13th (yes, it happened to be a Friday!) I took a bad fall on the concrete floor of our garage when a rug snatched my shoe and tackled me to the floor. I was still gripping the screwdriver in my right hand when my chin and nose became the last body parts to make contact with the floor, but my chest had already taken the full impact. Luckily, 4 weeks later, my bruised ribs were fine, but I learned how a nanosecond can make the difference between life and death or serious injury. I was very lucky that the hand with the screwdriver never made contact with my chest or my face. I also fell perfectly aligned between the car, the riding lawnmower and the tool box- a remarkable feat, I might add.

June 29th was another extensive surgery in my mouth to extract 3 teeth and repair my receding gums for a couple of future implants. Anyone that knows me will know that surgery in my mouth is a very high anxiety situation, and this was number 2 of 3 total surgeries. To increase my anxiety, I had an infection set in on day 4 after surgery. Just when things should have been getting better – they got much worse! Excessive swelling and pain increased my recovery time, but after another ten days of strong antibiotics, I was in pretty good shape. I would be making the trip home with less teeth, but I was ready for a much needed vacation with my family after a stinking hot and not-so-fun summer.

My outfits were planned for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding day and everything before and after! Life was good and my trip was just around the corner. I could hardly wait!

But then…

Saturday September 21st, a prediction of a disturbance below Cuba was given a 70% probability to become a tropical storm or hurricane on our local evening news. I don’t know what it was about this forecast, but I had a bad feeling in my gut on that very night that this could be a bad one and the first to affect Florida during this mild hurricane season. I literally was watching history in the making and somehow I knew it. My husband told me not to worry about it, but my gut was right. I had every reason to be worried.

A couple of days later on September 23rd, the disturbance was named Tropical Storm Ian and strengthened into a hurricane by the 26th. My bad feeling about this hurricane had slowly become my scary reality. By Tuesday September 29th, we were directly in the bullseye of what was to become a historic and deadly hurricane. It was predicted to make landfall in Tampa as a strong Cat 4 and move up the center of the state wreaking havoc on everything in it’s path. We were prepared with water, non perishable food, batteries and prepared our house and pool. We chose not to live on the coast, but slowpoke Ian was about to dump enough rain to cause rivers and lakes to overflow their banks and create inland flooding.

I was scared and nervous Nelly had to do all she could to keep it all together. I called the airline to see if I could change my flight and get out of Florida ahead of the storm, but fleeing vacationers filled every single seat on every flight out. I had no choice but to ride out Ian and hope for the best. We had people calling and texting us to see if we were prepared.

I saved 15 screen shots of the predicted cone, but only one matters now. We went from the bullseye in the north central area to the far left (West) of the cone. Now it was Orlando and Daytona Beach in the path after Ft. Myers, Captiva/Sanibel and Pine Island (St. James City) took the deadly surge of landfall. I don’t need to tell anyone how horrible this hurricane proved to be, as you’ve all seen the tragic results play out on TV. It was indeed a historic hurricane and several people we know were seriously impacted by the damage.

We dodged the bullet, but I was scheduled to fly out of Daytona on Saturday October 1st. The airport and surrounding area suffered from surge and flooding (St. Johns- for one) as predicted and was closed. I felt that all hope was lost in flying out to see my family. My heart felt another punch from the blows of Ian.

CNN was reporting Tampa/St. Pete, Bradenton/Sarasota, Orlando, Ft. Myers, Jacksonville and Daytona airports were all closed. We heard that Daytona wasn’t to re-open until approximately 10/5, yet my flight had not been cancelled by the airline yet. I called twice (one hour wait times with no option of a call back) to try and confirm my flight. I was advised to call DAB to find out directly from the airport if they would be operational on October 1st, but no answer on any phones by anyone. I was now prepared for more bad news. I would have cried, but I felt too guilty and selfish to do so after lives were lost and properties destroyed. “Chin up!” I would say to myself. “We survived unscathed and that’s enough.”

But I just wanted to get the hell out of Florida. I wanted to go home!

I called my Sisters to let them know it was looking pretty grim for me to get out and that I would most likely be caught up in the thousands of folks trying to get in or out of Florida after so many flight delays and cancellations. This was just too much for me to bare at this point. The stress of this hurricane and seeing and hearing the devastation all around us was gut wrenching and I could not stand the thought that I was about to be robbed of seeing my family when I felt I needed them most. It had been 3 years since I last visited my family where I grew up and I was trying to hang on to that one little bit of joy. It seamed the tiny thread was about to break!

I packed my suitcase. I prepared a carry-on bag. I showered and I was ready to go.

Finally, I received a message from the airlines after midnight! They advised me that I could reschedule my flight with no penalties, due to the inconveniences of the hurricane, however, my flight was NOT cancelled. Only the first flight out before mine was cancelled and the airport would reopen for commercial flights at 9am on one October.

We arrived safely in Daytona as we drove past some flooding by the St. Johns river areas and alongside the roads. We passed hundreds of electric utility trucks in the parking areas of Daytona Speedway. My flight was late departing, but shortly after noon, I was on the first flight out of DAB headed for my Atlanta connection, then landed safely at my final destination after flying through the remnants of Ian in the skies over Pittsburgh. I was only a little late arriving and my Sisters both greeted me at the baggage claim!

I have searched for the right words to tell you what it felt like to see them both there with great big smiles and hugging me tightly. I can not explain it. Relief and calm, yet excited and exhilarating. I was home for the next 10 days and nothing could be better in that moment.

In the following days, I got to spend time in my younger Sister’s new home. We went to an Oktoberfest, shopped at my favorite boutique, ate at my favorite restaurants, watched movies, laughed and drank wine. I was reunited with Nieces, Nephews, extended family and friends at the rehearsal dinner. The wedding was absolutely wonderful and I danced with everyone and enjoyed visits with so many people. I got to enjoy a huge event the day after called Christmas in the Woods with my big Sister’s family, and resumed visiting at an open house gathering at the Bride & Groom’s house that evening. Did I mention it was an Italian wedding? If you’re Italian- you know how much food and cookies were there! I have never seen more traditional wedding cookies in my entire life! I have also tasted more homemade cookies over the past week than I have in my entire life. LOL!! No joke!

One of my all time favorite things besides the wedding was spending time in a local park with my Photographer Niece being our tour guide. Me and my big Sis were photographed in this place hundreds of times as children, and then as teenagers with boyfriends, and finally as adults with our own children. The memories here are endless and the beauty of the Fall Season is bountiful with backdrops of the Lakes, the Falls, Lanterman’s Mill (est. 1845), the Lilly Pond, and of course, the Fellows Riverside Gardens.

We wrapped up my trip with a second siblings dinner and my tears were hard to hold back as I thanked them for hosting me in both of their beautiful homes and carting my ass around all over town to all of my favorite places (got to visit Whitehouse Farms too and checked a bag with two large bottles of my favorite sauce- Sweet Bourbon Glaze. They made it home safely!) I also hand carried home a teapot that I bought for my Mom when I visited Leavenworth, WA when I was 16 years old. Later in life, my younger Sister and her family would visit that same Bavarian Village where I bought this treasured souvenir for my Mom.

It was a wonderful trip and oh how sweet the memories! Ian could not break our family bond and is in the rearview mirror for me now, but so many people in my state will be dealing with the damage for years to come.

In the end, my final word is “Family.” If you survive tragic events, it is family that will come to your rescue. It is a bond like no other on earth. We grow up together, we live together, we laugh, love, and sometimes disgust each other. But we are bonded by flesh and blood till the end. We accept each other’s faults and shortcomings with forgiveness and celebrate the strengths and triumphs with kind hearts. We learn that time heals and separation can be both good and bad. But we will always hear the words of our Mother, Father and Grandmother; “In the end, all we have in this life is each other…”