Girlfriends, Dinner and Texting

Last night for the first time since Kyle died
I ventured out with some girlfriends.

Not my family.

Not my "babysitters."

But girls who are friends in a little group.

Usually this feels daunting and exhausting 
and overwhelming to me.

I can't explain it, and unless you've experienced
it--the grief--you just won't get it.

The grief is that heavy wet blanket that takes
all your time and energy.  Just to function.
And get out of bed. And live.  There's no room
or time or energy left over for anything else.

And going out and smiling and laughing with
other human beings after 8 hours of work?  
Usually that's too much for me right now.


But THIS week?  It was a good week.  I had an entire
7 day stretch void of weeping.

Yes, there was sadness tugging at my heart still--that's
still there, but the aching, longing heartache was
held at bay this week.

I enjoyed the reprieve from pain for a spell.

I know there will be more valleys to come, more
tears and sadness in waves--but for this time I enjoyed
the "lightness" that came to me this week.

It felt good.

My friends told me last night how much they cared
and thought about me and asked how they could do this
better.

I said that WE, the people going through this, JUST
need to know we're loved and thought about.

As I've said before there truly is nothing anyone can
say to make this better, or easier.

The thing that DOES help is just to know someone is 
thinking about you and cares.

One of my friends has been going through her own
hard time.

She said the greatest invention EVER was the text
and I have to agree.

A text.

Who knew that some little words on a phone could
mean so much?

"I'm thinking about you."

"How are you today?"

"I love you"

Etc.

She said those things are life savors and I have to agree.

Some days the grief is too heavy and talking on 
the phone or in person?  It is way too much for us
on this end.

But a short message flashed across our phones
can be easily answered (or ignored if that is the case).

And then we know people care.
And it fills us with joy.
Really.

I'm so grateful for the texters who are consistent in 
my life.

I always gush and thank them--but the gushing is from
the heart--just the reaching out through the airwaves
from YOU to ME?   Well, it means the world.

So thank you.

Thank you to girlfriends who talked and listened.

And hallelujah for one good week.

7 days in a row.

I'll take it!

It may be 7 bad days next week...but for now...I will
cheer the 7 good ones I've had!

That's what I've got for today.

How I Feel....

"How are you feeling Dorien?"

Not many people really ever ask me that anymore.

I think people are afraid to ask honestly.

They may not know how to deal with the raw sadness
of HIS death and MY heart.

It's like this giant elephant in the room
that people are trying their best to avoid.

If they don't ask me, they don't have to deal with it.

They don't know what to say when I'm honest
(because sadly, I am almost always honest) with them.

It makes people uncomfortable.

I think some people just wish I were "over it already."

And so I find they often ask OTHER people, 
"How's Dorien doing?"

That way the answer is not as raw and they don't
have to look at the pain in my eyes.

A few people ask ME still, but not many.

It hasn't even been 3 months since Kyle died.

(Not even 3 months....how is that possible?
It feels like enormous, unimaginable amounts of
time have passed by me....)

And I often wonder myself,  "How DO you feel Dorien?"

The emotions that come are like the swell of ocean
waves. They come expected and in intervals, and then
unexpectedly a huge wave sneaks in among the
swells and knocks my feet out from under me.

The art of carrying a family on ones shoulders
alone, without a husband, is well, daunting.

Raising children during the best of times is a 
challenge...raising children, ages 11-21, after 
the death of their daddy?

Staggering.

I feel crushed most days at the responsibilities.

I have had to take things in very small increments.

Usually a day at a time is all I can do.

The tick of the clock rounding through 24 hours...
and then starting again.

When a bad day hits me and knocks me down, the only
thing that keeps me going is knowing that almost always,
and so far without exception, a new day comes.

And with a new day, usually I am more grounded and
can begin again.

Some days I feel strong, like I WILL make it 
through this--to whatever end "through" is.

Some days I feel weak, like the smallest of children
could push me, and my fragile heart, to the ground
with one finger, gently tipping me over.

Poke. And down I fall.

And then they would leave me there, possibly forever, 
walking away laughing and pointing at me and my 
inability to rise again.

This grief I expected.
Even prepared for.

The loneliness I did not.
Could not have ever imagined it.

I have spoken of this at great length already.

I could never have imagined the loneliness
that comes with the death of a spouse.

My other half.

My best friend.

My comrade in arms.

Him.

Kyle.

I look at other couples and their easy, comfortable 
ways and I'm sad.  And I'm envious.  And I miss
the simplicity that came from having Him in my
life for 27 years.

How does one replace that?

Or replicate it?

Can you ever?

Was this it? 
My one chance at happiness and friendship and love?

You can't help but wonder how the future will
play out.

I keep hearing story after story after story of
people never getting past the sad and lonely and
still in a major depression years, and even decades
later.

"Faking it" for the good of...

The good of WHAT?  I'm not sure.

I do NOT want to be that.

I do NOT want that to be my "end".

But maybe it's not a choice.
Or maybe it is?

It's still too fresh to know.

I often wonder if I will be the crazy lady that
pushes a cat around in her baby stroller...talking
lovingly to it.

Maybe we shouldn't judge that lady so harshly.

Maybe she lost someone she loved and is sad still.

And lonely.

And the cat helps her fill that hole in her heart.

I have good days, even really good days.

I've heard people say they feel guilty for smiling and 
laughing again after a loved one dies.

I do not.  I don't quite understand that guilt
personally.  I find that I seem to cherish life,
and friendships, and mountain views, and sunrises,
and small joyful moments now more than ever.

I think that Kyle would wish for more good days 
then bad anyway--and so when laughter and lightness
comes, I seize them and let them surround me.

I have bad days, really bad days.

Days when the tears won't stop.

Days when my heart very literally feels as if it
is falling apart inside my chest.  

Squeezing.

Aching. 

Crushed. 

Days when the grief and longing and loneliness
are flattening me from the inside out.

I long for the carefree life that others seem to
have.  For easy moments of time that are not riddled 
with that aching sadness inside my soul.

I long for days not filled with one challenge or
another.  I long for simpler times with no stress.

I fear the thing I long for may not exist.

At least not now, for me.

And so I will continue to take one day at a time.
24 hour increments of time.

I will continue to gaze longingly, and a bit sadly, at
couples who shop, and dine, and just get to be
together.

Don't judge me.

I will continue to work and clean and study and
fold laundry and help my children through each
struggle.

I will continue to try and find, and embrace,
the good days when they come.

I will laugh when the moment strikes.

And I will weep with equal fervor when those
feelings swell inside my heart.

I really miss him.

That's how I feel today.

---------------------------------------



Edited to Add:

The point of this post is NOT to make anyone
feel guilty nor is it pointing fingers at ANYONE.

It is simply stating how *I* Dorien feel.

Just wanted to add that in case anyone worries.
This is just my heart spilled open in ink.
Plain and simple.

4, 5, 6

Two years ago this week, all of our lives changed
forever.

My kids asked me how I could remember the dates.

In turn I asked them, "How could I not?"

We went from barely giving cancer a sideways
glance to being fully immersed in a diagnosis
and chemo within one week, two years ago.

On March 4, after weeks and weeks of coughing and
vomiting and night sweats and weight loss Kyle
had a full physical with his doctor (after a series
of many other doctor visits and failed "guesses"
at what was wrong).

All the while the pit in my stomach grew and grew.

This was not "my Kyle."

"My Kyle" never ever ever ever got sick and stayed
sick--it just didn't happen.

During that physical he told his doctor more or
less "you had better do something to look inside
my body, my wife is about ready to have a nervous
breakdown."

The very next day, on March 5, after pulling a few 
strings, Kyle was scheduled for his first ever CT scan.

This scan revealed a large growth in his liver and 
a few nodules in his lungs.

Growths and nodules....we would soon learn 
more about all of this than we ever dreamed.

This was a man who's entire medical file before this
time consisted of a hospital stay for his birth
and perhaps one other page for a kidney stone.  

He was just never sick.

Ever.

His doctor pulled a few more strings and scheduled
a liver biopsy the very next day on March 6.

I will never forget that day....the doctor doing the
biopsy on Kyle, this big 44 year old healthy guy 
was pretty sure it would be "nothing serious".

As he started the procedure, Kyle said the doctors
whole demeanor changed and he went from not worried
to extremely concerned based on the "density" of 
the mass.

A few short hours later it was confirmed.

Kyle had cancer.
In his liver.

We still had not heard of the word

"cholangio-freakin'-carcinoma"...

....Yet.

Those three days changed everything as we knew.

Everything.

March 4 and 5 and 6.

I remember walking around LDS hospital with
tears streaming down my face, everything a blur,
thinking "my husband has cancer. my husband 
has cancer. my husband has cancer."

In that time, Kyle would go from a working healthy
dad to a fighter of cancer and stay at home dad.

I would go from a stay at home mom, who got to go to the
gym every morning for an hour and half, volunteer
at my kids schools, have lunch with friends and 
do 'stay at home' mom things, to a full time employee,
a full time student, and a caregiver to my husband.

I honestly could never in a million years have
predicted how much change we would see over the 
course of a few short years.

I am honestly surprised most days that I have not had
the "nervous breakdown" I always threaten to have.

I guess it could still be on the horizon.

Our lives indeed changed, more than we could have
EVER EVER guessed in our wildest dreams.

We are not the same people who started this journey
2 years ago this week.

One of us is no longer here.

Five of us must carry on.
(as well as countless others who carry the loss
of Kyle in their hearts.)

This journey has come with the highest of highs
and the lowest of lows.  It has moved in, and around,
and through our lives and with it, the cancer, brought
so much goodness in spite of the heartache and 
heartbreak.

I stand with Kyle, who believed that the world was 
more good than bad.   The world is definitely more
good than bad.  Cancer has shown me that if 
it has shown me nothing else.

So as I reflect on the past two years, my heart aches
for the one I love and miss and a few more tears 
fall from eyes this week in the remembering...yet
I embrace the pain and sadness as tokens of my love
for him.

I find courage in each new day as I think about how
HE would want me to carry on and find joy again.

I honor him in the waking and working and carrying on.

It is not without pain, and heartache and the lonely
thrum of the beat of my heart.

It is not without sadness or tears, but I keep 
moving forward to honor his life, and to honor
the next 40 something years he deserved to have 
on this earth.

And so today, and tomorrow, and the next day?

I remember.

I remember Kyle Nielson who fought the good fight.

Who rarely complained as he did it.
Who made friends where ever he went.
Who battled this evil monster with the courage
of a true superhero, every single day.
He was truly our Superman.

I love you.
I miss you.
F cancer all the way to hell and back for stealing
you from this life.

I love you.

And that's what I've got for today.

Granted

I think a lot of times in life we take things for 
granted.

I know I sure did.

And who doesn't really?

We think things will always be the way that
they are, certain that it will never be us
that is given the unbearable burdens that
always go to "other people."

Sometimes WE are the "other people."

Taking things for granted like....

Sitting next to my husband for 20 something
years and not giving it a second thought.

Hearing him breath next to me while he slept.

Reaching over to look at him in church, or at
dinner, or at the movie theater and just
KNOWING he's there.  

Just knowing he's there.  And knowing that's
ALL I need to know.

He has my back, no matter what.

Talking about everything and nothing, anytime.

Having someone who was my other half, always
there for me whenever I needed him to and even
when I didn't want him to be.

Those are the things that sting the most now, it seems.

The little things.

The things that make me crack, the things that
make me sob and physically ache for Kyle's 
physical presence again in my life.

These are the things that hurt to see...
(and don't feel bad, I can't help how I feel,
just remember how lucky YOU are to have it, if you do.)

Watching a spouse reach over with a gentle touch.

Seeing someone lean close to the one they love.

Watching a grandpa play with their grandkids.

Going out to dinner and being "solo".  
Alone.

It's lonely.

Even when I'm in a crowd of people I love, people
that I KNOW love me and want me there?  
Sometimes it's more than I can bear without him.

It's so lonely---even in that crowd of people
who love me.  I can't explain it, it just is.

And I leave and my heart breaks all over again
at the loneliness without him.

For most people (a lot of people?)
life without Kyle has gone on as before.  

Sure, they're sad maybe if they think about him.
Sure, they may miss him a little...

But it's not the same as it is for me and my family
where the hole is the biggest and hardest to fill.

Now believe me when I say it's not all gloom
and doom here...it's not.

We absolutely laugh and joke and find some joy 
in life already---but there is also deep deep
sadness and heartache that we will be working
through for a long time to come.

I'm not sure what the point of this post
is--other than perhaps to remind people NOT 
to take things for granted in life.

Especially when it comes to the ones you love.
And that love you.

I swear it feels like every time I write it
circles back around to love.

I am truly grateful for the mini "village" of
people who are my pillars. 

I am grateful for family and friends who let
me text and cry and call and whine and release
my emotions when the days are bad.

Thank you for that.  It is a treasure and 
I literally could not survive without you.

I am grateful for my weekend "babysitters" (you 
know who you are) who laugh and cry with me
and provide me a safe space to land over
and over and over and over.  I'm grateful
for heartfelt conversations over dinners
and honest good company that holds me up.

I so blessed to have the children I do.
Even in their struggles and pain, they make
me laugh and remind me not to take myself
too seriously.

They step in when I'm tired and feeling down
and help without too much prodding.

The whole new juggling act between single working
mother raising 4 kids alone going to school and 
cleaning house and running errands and going to
parent-teacher conferences and doctor appointments
and balancing everything all at once alone is
DAUNTING most days....so to those who have helped?

Again a giant thank you.

Please remember to hold those that you love
and little tighter and tell them you care.
Be slower to anger and quicker to forgive.

Remember I'm watching you and wishing that I had
just one more day, or hour, or minute with the
man I loved to tell him, and hold him, and 
touch him, and love him.

That's what I've got for today.

The Gifts of Love

People asked me to keep blogging when Kyle died.

It seems like most of my posts would read like this:

My husband died.
I'm sad.
I cry a lot.

I'm sad because my husband died,
I cry a lot, especially between the hours of 9-11 PM.
It sucks.

I cry because my husband died
and I'm sad.
Screw cancer, it sucks.

So you see, there's not a whole lot of variation on 
the theme here. (Which is why I haven't blogged a whole
hell of a lot).

I AM sad and I DO cry.

But the story doesn't end there.

So I'm going to give you a little update on our lives.

I went back to work full time last week, and I'm still
in school.  Day by day, plugging along.

My children have done exactly as Kyle predicted
and they have stepped up to the plate to help carry
their mom.

In my book, they are superstars.

I am extremely grateful for 4 kids who have shoulders
big enough to help carry me forward in this life.

Kyle left me (us, all of us) with the lesson of love
in this life.  It is one I hope to hold forever in my
heart and continue to share.

People ask what they can do all the time and surprisingly
what I have found is that human beings are resilient.

Shockingly and surprisingly so.

We can keep moving forward if we chose.

That doesn't mean it's always easy OR fun, in fact
sometimes it is neither of those things right now.

But we still get to chose of how we move.

And for us, it is forward.

What I will tell you to do is HUG us if you see us.

For some reason the hugging has stopped and we 
(especially me) are STILL in desperate need of hugs.

Hugs are good.

If you see us, hug us.

Don't be afraid to ask how we are.

Remember even if you DON'T ask, we are still grieving 
the loss of our husband and dad.  So asking us
isn't reminding us of something that's always there--
it's just showing us you care.

Ask.  "How are you?"

Tell us you love us.   Again, love is powerful 
and just knowing we are loved...?  Well, it helps.

Kyle's death and life will forever be a part of who I am.

I will always love him and miss him and carry the 
memories of him in my heart.  His death has also
changed all of us.  I think that me, and each of my
children, will forever be the kind of people who
love more deeply, feel more profoundly, and give more
of ourselves to others.

It will take time to heal from all of this, yet
I feel a greater sense of all of those things even
as I type.

I rarely end a text or a call without an "I love you"
now to the people in my life I love.

Kyle taught me, you can never say it enough or too 
often, and you never ever know if it will be the
last time.

Say "I love you."  You'll never be sorry.

Kyle shared a lot of gifts with us ...but my favorite
was perhaps that of love.  It is a strong, and powerful,
and profoundly impactful gift in my life.

And that's what I've got.
For today.
Love.

I love you and I must go

My sister for another win.  

She sent this to me in a email yesterday and said

"This is beautiful and made me think of Kyle."

And I read it.  And it did.  And I cried and cried and cried.

Please hold your sympathy.

I am not a tragedy. I am human and flawed. I break under pressure, I boil under my skin with anger, love with every fiber that I contain. I cry inside with every sad tear that wells into my eyes.

My cells make mistakes, just as my words can be misleading. During these last moments I don’t need bells and whistles. I need love. Self-love, soul love, friend love, mother, brother, sister, father, aunt, uncle, grandmother love. I need to scream out from the inside and let go of it all love.

So don’t feel bad or sad for me.

I am becoming free.

Listen close as I tell you my last secrets. Hurry up, give me your ear, I am unraveling fast.

Dearest, what I want you to know are the secrets I have kept hidden behind these eyes. The secrets contained behind my physical walls.

I want you to breathe in air like it won’t happen again. Smell the rain before it hits the ground. Inhale when the flowers bloom and scrunch the dirt between your toes. Run from thunderstorms when you get caught in them.

Realize you are already soaked in the cleansing rain so you might as well play in the puddles.

Child, I want you to love.

Love someone like you will never ever love them again. Love them when the moon is glowing and then love them when the sun comes up. Love them when the sun and moon are out playing, kissing the sky and sharing secrets about the other side.

I wish for you to hold another to your chest.

Listen to them speak about missing you even, after a few hours apart. How they miss you even when they are in your arms. Love someone like your heart beats as if it was created to make music to their soul. Care for them as if they’ve done no wrong, even if they have.

Love many people, as many as you can. Even those who hurt you, sometimes they are the ones who need your love the most.

Forgive.

How important is it that you forgive. Forgiveness is a blessing you can bestow to your own heart when you share it with another. It is not something you can buy. It is not something you can take. It has to be given by another.

When you forgive, you release another of hardship. You release your soul of burden it may be silently carrying. When you harbor forgiveness, it can fester and rot. It will become toxic. Forgive freely and willingly, my child; you will find peace in your quest of forgiveness.

Fight for your life.

Do not lie down. From the moment you are born, there are forces tearing you apart. Your will is what makes you amazing. Your atoms are what make you beyond words. DNA from thousands of years, your fight is ingrained in you from those who never gave up.

Talk to your atoms; they are buzzing, listen close. Fight with every last fiber for your hearts desire. Be it true to the truth of the universe, you will be victorious in your conquest of existence.

Leave.

Leave your heart out for others to see. Leave your trail of light behind you wherever you go so others may find you. Leave a blanket out for others so they may feel the warmth of the love you have left for them. Leave a piece of your soul in another human.

Leave when things are not meant for you. Acknowledge there is no right time. So leave when you need to. People will be with you wherever your heart leads you. You must trust in the choice to go.

So, with this I must take my own advice. In my own state of grace, I am in a limbo where my messages are left behind. Know that I am still here with you, just not in the way you wish for me to be.

This is me listening to my atoms; this is me loving you with every ounce I have. This is me giving you every bit of what I have left in this world. This is me giving you my last forgiveness.

I am still there behind your eyes. I am in the daylight and the moonlight. I am dancing in the twilight. I am in the fall air and the winter’s chill. I am playing in the snowflakes as they brush against your face. The raindrops you run from and the warm breeze that wraps your lungs.

I am in your reflection when you look deep inside the mirror. I have left a piece of me inside your heart. You are the stars within my free soul. Please share my last few treasures and with those who may already know. I am always with you.

I love you, and I must go.

 Reposted from Rebelle Society

Like Joy, Pain is Holy

I read somewhere recently that like joy, pain is
holy and should not be snatched away from us.

We should lean into it and feel it and let it
help us grow.

The past few days have been filled with endless
streams of tears on my part and no matter how hard
I try and stem the tide--they keep slipping down 
my face.

And so I lean into the pain and the tears and let 
them wash over me.

Grace turned 18 on Tuesday and for 3 days she has
been "quiet" and I have felt a sadness coming off
of her in waves that even she didn't realize.

I kept asking her why she was sad (well duh!) and 
what was wrong--

she kept saying nothing.

Then last night she came into my room and said she
finally realized she had been feeling sadness
surround her but (besides the obvious) she couldn't
pinpoint WHY she was feeling the extra sadness.

She realized that it was her birthday and her dad.

Yes, one of those fabulous "firsts" without him.

He was not here to celebrate 18 with her, and while
we all tried our darndest to make it somewhat special,
her dad was still not here to celebrate that milestone
with her.

We can feel the sadness in the air.

It comes in whispery silver waves that wrap around 
us tightly and squeeze us, holding us in its grasp.

It sinks slowly into our hearts and crushes them,
leaving us breathless.

It sneaks up on us and taps us on the shoulder,
some memory that triggers the pain.

I will embrace it though, for it means that the 
man who we most miss was loved.

And our grief is evidence of that love.

So we take baby steps forward every day and
sometimes we fall onto our beds in a heap weeping...
but then we rise again and take another baby 
step forward.

Kyle always promised me that there would be people
around me to love me and help me when he died.

It's interesting that while he was fighting cancer
and ultimately dying, he had an army of people who
loved and cared for him.

Carrying him on his journey from life to death.

That army has somewhat mostly dispersed now--but again
Kyle promised me that others would step in and fill
the holes that I needed filled when the time was right.

And he was right.  I have been blessed to have people,
some of them new, step into my circle now and help
carry me on my journey from Kyle's death to my living 
again.

I am grateful that even on the darkest days that I 
know I am loved.

I am grateful for 4 wonderful children who, while
they all have their own struggles with this, have
been an anchor for me.

I am happy to see glimpses of their father in them
as we muster our courage and move ahead.

I like to think of all the love Kyle had in his heart
extending outward into each of us so that we can
carry on his legacy of love and service.

I like to think that we WILL know joy again someday
and will be filled with laughter and smiles at adventures
to come.

For if we cannot, and do not--then this is a life wasted.

I am grateful to find quiet moments of peace even
on the stormiest of days.

I am grateful for texts and calls begging me to come
and have lunch, or dinner, or just to check on me.

Thanks for letting me turn you down again and again
and still loving me--this is hard.  Being "out" of 
my bubble is hard.  Please don't give up on me, my
heart is healing and growing while I lean into my
grief and pain.

So for now, we lean into our pain--realizing it is 
healing us in the long run.  We embrace our tears
letting them wash through us and carry away some of 
the grief.  We carry on and we love and feel 
a little more deeply than we ever did before.

I miss him, oh how I miss him....
from the tips of my toes to top of my head and
everywhere else in between I miss him.

And that's what I've got for today.