It sneaks up on you

I came across a term today that at least helps to put in perspective the continued intermittent bouts of extreme sadness I experience daily-often without any warning. The term is emotionally ambushed.

It happened today when I looked into a kitchen cabinet for a pot and saw the no less than 8 cup cake pans complete with the paper cups as well as the adjacent birthday candles that I suspect she had already planned to use for my sons birthday that's in a couple of weeks from now.

My wife always made things so much fun. She was a planner. She went out of her way to make things so special for everyone. It was so evident that she so deeply cared for us all.

She always ambushed us with love and that's why I suspect I'll be ambushed with emotions for a long time to come.

My laughing buddy

A good friend recently reminded me about a quote by Coach Jim Valvano shortly before his death:

"There are three things we should all do everyday. Number one is laugh. Number two is think. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you're going to have something special."

I've  been watching a lot of Sienfeld re-runs so I've  been laughing most nights. I've definitely spent a lot of time in thought and I've had my emotions moved to tears throughout the day, everyday.  It's been something but I would not say it's been special. If the tears were due to happiness or joy I would feel a lot different.

T and I had many episodes of laughing so hard we would cry.

That was special.

Alone again

Waking up alone in the mornings pretty much sucks.

I would have to say that mornings are about the saddest time of the day for me.

We never really talked a whole lot in the mornings and that was fine because we were together.

We would go about our routines quietly because we knew each other's routines so well.
Our routines changed over the years but with both children in college we had settled into our new norm.

T would make sure our dog had water and food and would let him out a couple times to poop and pee.

I would take out the house trash, re-cycle stuff  or yard trash and get the newspaper.
T always had a diet coke and I always had a cup of instant coffee to start the day.

Breakfast was always simple-oatmeal, cereal or very occasionally an omelet while we quickly skimmed the headlines in the paper. I always started with the sports and T would start with the local section. Whoever opened the paper first would hand the other the preferred sections to start.

T would have showered the night before so I would take a shower while she was doing her hair, etc.

After being fed and dressed we would review what the day had in store.

I would then head out to work carrying a lunch bag with left-overs from the night before and she would take the dog on a mile walk before she headed off to work.

"Have a great day, I love you."

"You do the same, I love you too."

Dean Koontz has written, "You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone. OR you can realize that every moment of your relationship had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time...so you just lived...and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it... It was everything, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it...when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it...you're driven to your knees..."

My knees have callouses.

A community tribute

Memorial Fund to Honor Nurse Practitioner Tori Sheahan

The legacy of pediatric nurse practitioner Tori Sheahan–a consummate caretaker and champion for the health of local youth–is being honored by the establishment of a fund to provide medical supplies and health education resources to students in Winter Park, Maitland and Eatonville.

The Tori Sheahan Memorial Health Education Fund has been created by the Winter Park Health Foundation (WPHF) at the Foundation for Orange County Public Schools (OCPS) to honor Ms. Sheahan who passed away very unexpectedly on June 22.

“We thought it a fitting tribute,” explained Debbie Watson, WPHF Vice President, “because Ms. Sheahan was passionate about empowering and educating youth on how to manage their chronic health conditions—such as asthma and diabetes–and pursue healthy lifestyles.”

Members of the community are welcome to join in the tribute. (See details at the end of the story.)

News of the fund was announced during a July 11 community memorial service for Ms. Sheahan, the well-respected and much-loved Coordinator of the WPHF’s School Nursing Initiative (SNI) and nurse practitioner at the Glenridge Middle School-Based Health Center. The sanctuary of Winter Park Presbyterian Church was filled with friends, nursing and school colleagues, as well as families whose lives had been touched by Ms. Sheahan.

Unflappable, and ever positive, Ms. Sheahan had been involved in the WPHF Coordinated Youth Initiative (CYI) programs since 2003. (CYI is a collection of free, school-based health and wellness programs offered in 12 schools in Winter Park, Maitland and Eatonville and supported by WPHF. Services include school nurses, nurse practitioners, CHILL mental health professionals and healthy school teams.)

“We all know the difference Tori made,” said Ms. Watson. “She was an extraordinarily caring and capable caregiver, as well as a collaborator, connector, innovator and mentor. She was a champion for the health of our youth, and she will be missed terribly.

Born in Virginia Beach, VA in 1969, Ms. Sheahan obtained a registered nurse (RN) degree from Riverside Hospital in Newport News, VA and then a bachelor of nursing degree from the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, VA. She later obtained a Pediatric Advanced Registered Nurse Practitioner (ARNP) degree through the University of Florida.

She worked with Healthcare Providers of Florida—a group of nurse practitioners providing school-based health care for the underserved in Central Florida, since 2000, serving as vice president since 2008.

As SNI Coordinator for WPHF, Ms. Sheahan helped supervise, mentor and support school nurses in the Winter Park Consortium of Schools, and she also staffed the Glenridge School-Based Health Center where she went to any length required to make sure her patients got the care, medicine, education and social services they needed.

Ms. Sheahan also was an innovator. She helped WPHF develop an electronic medical records system for use in school clinics so treatment can be tracked and noted for trends, and the system enables nurses to have student histories at their fingertips.

In 2010, WPHF nominated Ms. Sheahan as an Orlando Business Journal “Nurse Hero.” Fittingly, Heather Hilton, the Glenridge principal at that time, offered these comments about her for the nomination. “We affectionately see her as a ‘dog with a bone’ – she will not let go of a situation until she is certain that health and safety for each member of our community has been met. Ms. Sheahan will seek out other medical assistance, help with filling prescriptions, determine insurance options, and guide staff and parents with updated medical information.  But more importantly – she listens with her heart.  She cares for each student as though they were her own and because of that we are a better school.”

Ms. Sheahan leaves behind husband Bill and children Tom and Ellie.

She also leaves behind a legacy of kindness and caring. She will be missed by all of us.

My Memorial service tribute

When Tori was born I know her parents knew she was special. When I first met her in 1987, I did as well. What really captured me beyond her natural beauty was her caring, fun, demeanor as well as her depth. There was nothing superficial about her. Family and friends have described her as consistent, down-to-earth, steady and wise and I completely agree. She had the amazing combination of being super smart with an even greater amount of common sense while remaining humble-traits that pre-destined her to be a great mother and pediatric nurse practitioner.

Everything was so natural and drama-free in our relationship. When I asked her to marry me we had just come back from walking our dog Kasey and I said, “Do you think we should get married?” and she said, “Yeah that would be cool.” I hadn’t even thought about buying a ring yet but that was of no concern to her.

We had an amazing marriage and she was a perfect mother.

The last couple of weeks have been such an overwhelmingly sad time in our lives but our relationship, marriage and home life was filled with such fun, love, laughter and respect that I want to celebrate her today by reviewing the legacy she left our family.

1.     Almost all decisions or minor conflicts were worked out by an almost daily family walk around the 1.9 mile loop in our neighborhood. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk,” She would say. We walked it thousands of times. We often joked that our walks kept us out of therapy and off mental health medications-it was the best form of medicine.

2.     Family dinners were always a great way to determine what was going on in our lives away from our home. She realized if she just asked how everything went during a school day invariably Tom and Ellie would say “just fine.” Instead she decided to have them go through the day period by period. It was then that details about what they had experienced and witnessed came out. They also learned that there was virtually nothing they could say that would shock us given our own experiences at work. This allowed any topic to be open for discussion. Family dinners were also a great time to talk about choices/values in life and as they got older to review potential colleges and careers.

3.     She encouraged Tom and Ellie find their passion and then we supported it. In regards to sports she reminded me many times that “kids don’t ruin sports. It’s the parents who ruin sports for their kids.” She was the behind the scenes assistant coach for all the YMCA sport teams I coached. I know the kids who played on those teams over the years had improved skills but more importantly maintained a love for having fun through sports, more than actually remembering our won-loss record. We were there for virtually all of Tom and Ellie’s extracurricular activities and sporting events. She served as Ellie’s faithful assistant throughout her middle and high school riding career that spanned trips throughout the east coast-literally only missing one show due to being on home quarantine after going through I131 treatment for thyroid cancer 2 years ago.

4.     She was selfless and always thought about her family first. Just about a month ago, we decided to go to the Reebok outlet for some new work-out clothes. I found two pairs of shorts and went looking for her. I saw her carrying an arm-full of clothes but found out she had picked them out as a surprise for Tom, who was away for the week traveling with his girlfriends family. She hadn’t begun to look for anything for herself yet.

5.     She created wonderful memories through themed birthday parties, holiday celebrations, overnight camping trips, weekly family game nights and travel, instead of concentrating on material possessions. She always went out of her way to make everyone feel so comfortable in our home. She loved having Tom and Ellie’s friends hang out at our home or with us when on one of our beach vacations, always making sure to have plenty of food and drink and one of her famous cookie pies available. Through trips to theme parks, zoos, local parks, most all of our national parks and extensive travel throughout our country and around the world, our kids experienced so much. The list is by no means complete but due to her planning, Tom and Ellie have ridden horseback, swam in multiple oceans, cruised, snorkeled, water-skied, hiked, biked, canoed, kayaked, canyoneered, repelled, zip lined, white water rafted, geo-cached, sled, snow-boarded, snow mobiled, snow-shoed, jet skied, banana-boated, tubed, dune buggeyed, navigated urban subways, rode the Euro-train throughout Italy, accidentally came within 25 yards of a Grizzly bear in Yellowstone and taken death defying car rides in Ireland with me driving on the opposite side of the road with a manual transmission car; the most memorable of which was along the ring of Kerry with the narrow roads, a cliff on one side and tour buses coming the opposite way who didn’t seem to care that they were half-way in our lane. Even long car rides were always memorable-creating word games or coming up with pseudonyms for our family in case we ever needed to go into hiding or protective custody.

6.     She instilled a love for health and fitness in Tom and Ellie by limiting what she called “electronic time” to no more than an hour/day when they were young and gaming was just getting popular. She would have them go outside to play when the alarm on the timer would sound that meant their hour was up for the day.

7.     She kept our home a safe place, a sanctuary. My brother would always say our home was so peaceful whenever he would visit and it was because of her.  At some point of most every night she would say its “Jammie Time,” usually around 8 PM and she would change into a baggy t-shirt and an old pair of boxers. We would all follow suit and then settle into a night of reading or watching a TV show together. Silence in our home in the evening meant nothing more that its’ been a really busy day and we are all just tired of talking. While quiet, over the years our home also included 4 dogs, hamsters, gerbils, mice, turtles, hermit crabs, a newt and multiple fish that always seemed to significantly outlive their expected life span. And of course we also ventured into horse ownership twice. She occasionally referred to our horses as “kitchen cabinets,” to gently remind Ellie that we choose to support her passion rather than to remodel our 1970 kitchen for many years.

8.     She gave Tom and Ellie the tools needed to be independent, responsible adults by having them pick out all their own clothes and do all their own laundry starting at an early age, as well as weekly house chores, open and manage their own bank accounts, do their own shopping and most recently learning to plan meals and cook because both are coming off the meals plans at college this year. I picked “Sweet Home Alabama” as one of the songs for the opening video because she would play it most every Saturday morning as a sign that housecleaning was about to commence. A hidden video recording would have captured some pretty goofy dancing by all of us on those mornings while dusting and vacuuming.

I loved how she used humor and sarcasm. Typically when going out to eat at a restaurant that specializes in Hamburgers, for example, I might ask a stupid question such as, “what are you going to get to eat?” and she would look at me and say “a pizza.” When I once said, “Lets’ go watch the fireworks at Lake Eola today,” she said, “sure, just let me go to Costco first to buy some sun block, rain poncho’s and mosquito repellent.” She then said the weather report shows a brutally hot and sunny day, followed by afternoon rain with the onslaught of mosquito’s to follow. We laughed and then came up with an alternative plan.

Every night ended with saying “I love you” to each other before going to bed.

I know we will all be faced with asking “what would Tori do?” in the future. We have all so benefited from having her in our lives.

I am so thankful for our years together and our two awesome children.

Tom's Memorial service tribute

It is impossible to do my mom’s life a justice by simply saying a few things about her. I think the best way that I and my family can honor her is by attempting to live our lives in a way that she would herself. I tried to pick out a few qualities that embodied the amazing woman that she was, and they are qualities that I hope will one day describe me as well.

-be selfless: she never put herself first, whether at home, at work, or anywhere else. She was dedicated to serving others and making their lives better. The amount of things that my mom did for myself and for others was so great that one can only begin to comprehend it all.

-be compassionate: helping others wasn’t just something she did because it was a job or that she was a mom, but because she genuinely cared. It did not matter whether it was someone that she liked or disliked, she was truly just a warmhearted individual.

-be humble: one reason why my mom was such an under-the-radar superstar was due to the fact that she never bragged or made a big deal about any of the incredible things she did. She took pride in others’ joy and happiness even more than her own.

-be resilient: My mom had a turbulent childhood at times. It not only shows me that hard work truly does pay off, but also that the end of her life does not signify the ending of me, Ellie’s, or my dad’s lives either. She represented the epitome of overcoming adversity and continuing to thrive, and I know that her wish would be for us to continue to live as fulfilling, prosperous lives as we can.

-find joy in experiences: my mom knew the value of a family vacation, a game night, and a laugh on a walk around the neighborhood far outweighed the pleasure that material possessions could ever achieve. The lifestyle of my family is one that hopefully I can recreate with my own family one day.

My mom was an incredible person whose combination of common sense, intellectual capacity, and love molded and shaped me in ways that I probably don’t even realize yet. The end of her time on earth in no way signifies the culmination of her legacy.

Ellie's Memorial service tribute

I called my mother every day when I was away at school this year.  Sometimes it was because I was having a personal crisis, or I wanted her to send me another cookie pie in the mail, but most of the time it was because I just truly loved to talk to her.  When she was in the hospital I told my dad I couldn’t imagine my life without her because not only was she my mother, but she was my best friend.  When I said that, my dad looked at me and said, “Well that can’t be, because she’s my best friend too!”  She was so sincere, so thoughtful, and so genuinely caring in everything she did that I think pretty much anyone who ever interacted with her couldn’t help but love her.  I could talk for days and still lack adequate words to sufficiently describe all of her perfect characteristics.  My mom truly went above and beyond to give our family the best, most fulfilling lives as possible.  Now, I’m the expensive child of the family by far.  My mom dedicated thousands of hours and countless weekends driving me to piano lessons, horse shows, my out of state college and uncomplainingly partaking in all other activities associated with those things for me.  The funny thing is, though, is that the best memories I have of those paycheck-consuming activities are driving home in the car with my mom.  We’d laugh about the many eccentricities of my piano teacher, relive the play-by-plays of my rides, plan excitedly for school, or simply just talk about our days.  Another incredible thing my mother did for us was plan these amazing trips.  We’ve been to the Grand Canyon, Ireland, New York, Jamaica, Italy, Yellowstone, and just about everywhere in between.  All of these trips wouldn’t have been possible without my mom’s painstaking planning and forethought, always picking attractions and activities to appeal specifically to each of us.  However, once again, my favorite memories from all of these amazing adventures are from our family car rides during them, like when we created our alter ego, the Farfiggnewgyn family, on the way home from seeing snow in North Carolina, getting lost in our midget sized rent-a-car throughout the Irish countryside, and ceremoniously cutting up our season passes to Busch Gardens after we were so annoyed at being stuck in traffic for hours on the way home.  I honestly can’t even remember all of the places we’ve been, but I sure do remember all the things we got to do together and talk about on our car rides.  The greatest things my mother gave us were not really things, and in my opinion, she definitely had her priorities straight in that regard.  The experiences, memories, values, and love she gave to our family were her greatest gifts, and they are truly priceless.

The 60% that mattered

I've read that in most marriages that work there is at least an approximate 60/40 split in chores/duties between the wife and the husband.
Our marriage worked.
I know I did 40% but I've also realized that the 60% she did was the really important stuff.
I faithfully washed the dishes, took care of the yard, took out the trash/recycle bins and always helped with dusting, cleaning windows and vacuuming.
T not only worked full time but she also did all the grocery shopping, cooking and bought all the essentials at Target and Costco that kept our family supplied.
I would often go with her on errands but would wonder around the stores looking for items for me while she was always purchasing things needed for the family.
When I looked at her day planner for the first time while she was in the hospital it took my breath away.
Besides work, she had entries for multiple meetings each week, reminders for our dog as well as notations about calling and scheduling dentist, ophthalmology, and allergy appointments for our children as well as when to send in money for the college funds.
She paid all the bills each month-some on line and others by snail mail, balanced two banking accounts and also kept a Quicken program updated to consolidate all the information.
I've finally gotten sort of a handle on many of these things but there were a lot of anxious moments spent trying to get access to accounts in which she had all the passwords as well as learning to navigate around stores now that I needed to actually be the one buying things for the family.
My 40% helped our marriage work but her 60% kept our life together as a family so perfect.
She was amazing.

A cook and a dishwasher

I actually made a meal tonight-my first one-not kidding-day #64 of life without T.
I've been getting take-out at Panera or Outback every night.
T was an amazing cook.
In all our years together she only made one dish that I wasn't a huge fan of.
I love tuna fish, tuna fish sandwiches and tuna melts, but for some reason I have never liked tuna casserole.
Very early in our years together she made tuna casserole a couple of times.
She noticed that I would only take a small helping and would never go back for seconds-a rarity.
She finally asked me why and I admitted to my dislike.
She never made it again.
She cooked and I always did the dishes.
That was always our deal. She never failed to cook a great meal and I always did the clean-up.
But tonight I made pasta with marinara sauce, meatballs and a salad.
I sent a picture of the spread to my children (who are both at college) before I consumed it.
It was actually very good.
Then I cleaned up.
I've lost 25 pounds since T died.
Maybe I'll stop losing more weight now that I can be a cook and a dishwasher.

Now I know

Over the years, I've known of a few families who have suffered a tragic loss. In one family, a husband was involved in a car accident on the way home from work and died instantly. His children went to the same elementary school as my children and I remember how sad I always felt whenever I saw his wife at school functions after his death. I also remember how I would intentionally try to avoid her because I didn't know what to say when we crossed paths.
I do now.
You don't really need to say anything. Just say you're sorry for their loss or just be there.
Don't say how shocked you are. Anytime someone said that to me I felt like saying "no shit Sherlock."
Don't say how exactly the same thing happened to you unless it really did. Without trying to be insensitive, losing your mother at age 80 to a heart attack is not the same as losing a wife at age 45 to a heart attack.
Don't say "give me a call if you need anything," especially if prior you haven't talked to each other for many years or if you had never shared a close relationship. The person(s) going through the tragic event is still trying to process everything and doesn't know what he/she needs or who to call. If so inclined, just show up and do the dishes, take out the trash, do a load of laundry, make a grocery store run. Be available to talk but only if approached.
If you have never really shown yourself to be a spirit filled individual don't say you are keeping us in your prayers constantly. I would prefer you just say we have been in your thoughts-even if I know it was probably only a very fleeting thought. I completely understand.
Of all the things said I so appreciated these two:
My 93 year old neighbor said "there are no words to express how I feel."
A former colleague who had lost his wife a number of year ago said "please know that eventually you will find the light at the end of the tunnel in which you find yourself in at this time."

The evening she collapsed

June 18th was my sister's birthday. She lives in California and I was able to give her a call extending our greetings and good wishes.
I was post op day #9 from a total hip revision. I had undergone my first total hip at age 37 due to developmental hip dysplasia and the parts needed to be replaced now at age 55, 18 years since the original. All was going well and it had been an uneventful recovery.
We had actually gone out to dinner for the first time since I had returned home from the hospital. We went to our favorite Tex-Mex eatery.
After dinner my son went with his girlfriend to a movie and my wife, daughter and I went home. We were all just relaxing. I was on a recliner and was writing, my daughter was watching a TV show and my wife was sitting reading her kindle with our toy poodle, Dwight, sitting on her lap.
At a few minutes before 9 pm my daughter noticed that my wife had slumped over to the side and was unresponsive.
I tried to assess and revive her and my daughter called 911 right away.
The rescue squad arrived and did ACLS and she was taken to our local emergency room.
She was in PEA ( pulseless electrical activity) on arrival and had decorticate posturing.
A blood pressure was eventually reestablished but after greater than 25 minutes of cerebral hypoxia.
After 4 days of interventions she still had no significant brain stem function.
Life support was discontinued and she died with us at her bedside within minutes.

The day was no different than so many others in our life up until a few minutes before 9 pm.

Our world as we know it was shattered.

Day 61

It's day 61 since my wife died.

It continues to be a day of emotions that are all over the place.

I went to a men's group this morning sponsored by a local church that discussed the importance of men having relationships with other men in order to hold them accountable in life.

While there was some useful information, I found myself having to frequently talk myself out of crying whenever someone would mention the word "wife."

For the most part I am doing better.

I recently came across another blog entitled "Lost without Her." The authors wife died suddenly at age 43. He still had four children at home. One entry ends with a reminder of how the authors wife would want him to spend the rest of his time on earth. She would want him to "smile, open his eyes, love and go on."

It's been my mantra today.

It helps to a degree but still doesn't stop the waves of emotion.

It does seem to keep me from drowning, however, and that's a good start.