Happy New Year (January 1, 2024)

When I re-read my 18 month post, I am struck by how well I thought I was doing, and also that I had no idea what was coming next. At 18 months, I was mostly done with my house projects, getting involved in new projects that I cared about, and feeling the strongest (although still not ever the same) I'd felt since Scott's passing. Then the following month brought me to the darkest point I'd felt since Scott's passing, and I found myself wondering if I had made any progress at all.

I had a health scare and was called back for follow-up scans. I knew that it would likely be fine, but the week-long wait between my initial and follow-up scan brought back traumatic memories of when Scott was getting his scans and diagnosis.

I also felt terribly vulnerable when faced with the possibility of having a health crisis. I didn't have to imagine what battling cancer would be like. I already knew. I saw firsthand the devastation of the diagnosis on the patient and family, the progression of the disease, the side effects of treatments, and the impenetrable maze of the health care and insurance systems. In the week between my scans, I made multiple calls each day to schedule my appointment, get the doctor's orders sent, confirm that they were received, fix things when they weren't sent correctly, and then reschedule my appointment after that. While I usually haven't felt lonely and have a good network of friends and colleagues here, I did feel alone in the sense that I was having to navigate nearly all my life decisions, both large and small, on my own. I think lots of people would be willing to help out, but nobody can fully live this experience with me. I had been Very Strong over the past 18 months, and the prospect of having to do this for the rest of my life felt bleak. My friends in my weekly widow support group helped me tremendously through this dark time, and they understood what I was going through.

When I finally had the follow-up scan and got normal results, I felt relief that I did not have to walk down this path any further. Then to my surprise I started crying as I was leaving the waiting room, wondering why this couldn't have happened for Scott. I felt like he had been walking with me on this journey, and that he was telling me that he wanted me to keep trying to live the best life that I could.

On top of that, Scott’s birthday and the holidays were also a tough time. In an effort to make myself feel better, I decided to put up a Christmas tree and decorations this year, which I wasn't able to manage last year. I had never gotten a live Christmas tree before and had to figure some things out for the first time, but the process and the finished Christmas tree did make me feel a bit better. 

 

My first Christmas tree

 

I also hosted a holiday party for my group at work, which was the first time I had hosted a gathering of more than 3 people at my house since I moved in last year. I hadn't hosted a large gathering in my house since 2019, not counting the time when Scott passed away, when I was in a haze and nobody expected me to be a hostess. I had to remind myself of things that people need to do for parties, like make sure there is enough ice. But it filled my heart to see 30 people gathered at my house, eating, laughing, and having a good time together.

I flew to Texas for Christmas, and spending time with my niece and my sister and brother-in-law helped me feel more like myself. It was nice to have someone really want to spend time with me, even if it was my 4 year old niece who wanted me to play with her every waking minute of the day. We made paper animal and dinosaur crafts and played with her new monster trucks that she got for Christmas. We played pirates, which involved hunting for "treasure" (red and green UNO cards) and bringing it back to her "pirate ship" (bed) and then having a snack aboard her pirate ship (very important to have good snacks on a pirate ship).

After that I flew to Georgia to spend some time with Scott's family. This too brought a measure of healing. I feel incredibly blessed to be so warmly included as part of the family, which is not something that all widow(er)s experience after the loss of a spouse. Scott's parents gave me a framed drawing of Scott and me, done by his cousin who is an artist and was very close to Scott. Scott's brother Eric brought the first bottles of his Marquette red wine, grown from his home vineyard, with wine labels drawn by his brother Todd. Eric told us that he and Scott had bonded over their shared interest in gardening, and that Scott had gotten to see the vineyard when it was first planted. Eric decided early on that Scott would have the first bottle, and even though Scott wasn't with us anymore, Eric presented Bottle #1 to me for Christmas. I could see how much love had gone into the wine and that first bottle, and it touched me tremendously.

I flew back home on December 30 and ended up hosting 20 of my neighbors at my house the next evening for New Year's Eve. It was a progressive neighborhood party where we stopped at 4 houses over the course of the night for drinks and appetizers, and I co-hosted with my next door neighbors as the "midnight" house. A lot of things came together at the last minute, but it made me happy to celebrate the new year with my neighbors, all of whom had become good friends over the past year. My next door neighbor, who is from Ecuador, shared the tradition of eating 12 grapes at midnight and making a wish. You're supposed to eat 12 grapes in the last 12 seconds, which did not happen for me. Still, I wished that the coming year would bring me happiness.

I'm emerging from the darkness of the past month, a little better now but still a bit shaky. Regardless of where you are on your life's journey, I wish that the coming year will bring you happiness, love, and fulfillment.

And we’re thinking of you always, Scottie.