As I begin this journey of sharing my story, I am not sure of the direction of this blog. All I know is that it has been on my heart for quite a while to start a blog and share my experience, strength, and hope. I had no idea what grief entailed until it actually became a part of my journey. I did not have an understanding of how grief engulfs you and sucks you up. It is an emotional, physical, and spiritual nightmare. It is unpredictable, messy, and just plain sucks! Grief is unique for each person. But my hope is that by sharing my experience, one person may be able to relate to some little part of it. And even more importantly for those who have not experienced the intense pain of grief that they may be able to understand what someone in their life is going through when grieving.
I find it ironic that a few months prior to my husband’s death, I started the blog Reviving Balance. Here is an excerpt from my introduction on that blog: “I’m here to empower you to live a healthy, simple, and purposeful life. As a “recovering” (I use that term loosely) perfectionist, I strive to find balance between taking care of myself by living a peaceful, happy life while facing the everyday pressures of work, marriage, kids….(you name it!). Through my blogs, expect to see real struggles along with real solutions to live a healthy, non-toxic lifestyle with a focus on mindset and personal development.” I read this now, and I can honestly say I do not know that person. Grief has changed me. There is no striving for balance in grief; it is all about survival. Little did I know there is no amount of balance that can prepare you for the life-altering event of losing your husband. I was knocked out of my orbit, spinning uncontrollably.
Mark, my husband of 19 years, passed away on December 4, 2019. Mark died of a heart attack. He was 45. He was healthy, with no history of heart disease in the family. He had only one risk factor: smoking. On a Saturday, four days before he died, he was having what he thought was really bad heartburn. He was in a lot of pain, and I suggested going to the ER, but it went away in an hour or so. He had the same symptoms each day leading up to his death, but the pain kept going away. My biggest regret is not going to the ER that Saturday evening.
A few days later on a Wednesday evening, there was a loud knock on my front door (that knock haunted my dreams for many months). I had just finished the dishes, packed lunches, and got my gym bag ready for the next morning. I was feeling accomplished and excited to sit down on the couch to watch my show in quiet as the kids were at Young Life and Mark was at our lake house working on homeowner association business.
When I opened the door, there was a young police officer standing on my porch, and my heart dropped. The officer asked if I was Emily McLean and if my husband was Mark McLean. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and my mind was intently waiting for the next words to come out of the officer’s mouth. He told me, Mark was found deceased at the lake house. I was confused. Deceased? He was young, healthy and happy. It didn’t make any sense to me. The questions started to pour “what happened?”, “how?,”, “who found him?”…The officer repeated the same answer “I do not have that information, you will need to contact coroner’s office.”
I dropped to the ground. I was not crying, but I was shaking so hard I felt so unstable. Then I saw my sweet dog, Callie, sitting at the door, and I remembered our other dog, Scout. Mark had Scout with him at the lake house. Where was Scout? So I asked the officer, and again he answered “I do not have that information, you will need to contact the coroner’s office.”
I went inside the house. I was in shock. Nothing made sense. It did not seem real. I was watching someone else’s nightmare. I called my mom. I heard my mom’s voice and said, ‘Mom” and the tears started flowing uncontrollably. I couldn’t get the words out. My mom was telling me to breathe and I blurted, “Mark died.” Then I called my best friend and told her the news. I sat on the kitchen floor and cried. Moments later, my house started filling up with family and friends.
I started freaking out about the kids. I wanted my kids home with me, but at the same time, I didn’t want to tell them. I could not crush their world. I didn’t want this for them. Their beloved “Papa” was gone. I wish I could forget that moment when I told the kids their Papa died. They both walked in the door and saw everyone there and asked what was going on. I looked at them and said Papa had a heart attack. My son said Ok as if he was expecting to hear next that he was in the hospital. l then said Papa died and my son curled up, bent over, and started bawling saying, “No, No, No.” I immediately grabbed him and hugged him. I looked over at my daughter; she was just standing there alone, crying. I pulled her in, but she just stood there, frozen as if she moved it really would be true.
I remember that night so vividly. But the next days and weeks were a blur. I know my house was filled with many family members and friends supporting me, taking care of arrangements, making sure kids had clothes for the service, making phone calls, feeding me, asking me what I needed…and my thoughts were, I need you to end this nightmare. I need you to undo all this. I need you to tell me this is not true.
There is not a day that goes by that I do not think about Mark many times. I miss him so much. The waves of grief are farther apart and less intense. I have been through a lot of the “firsts.” I am starting to feel part of the world again. Don’t get me wrong, I am still on a roller coaster of emotions. I still have a lot of anger to work through. And fear…fear continues to rear his ugly head. But I continue to trudge along this journey.
So why “Still Trudging”? Various definitions of trudging include: to walk steadily, to walk in a heavy, exhausted way, to walk with purpose. I have no idea what purpose I am steadily and sometimes heavily walking in. The Emily before Mark’s death (my life is now divided before my husband’s death and after my husband’s death) would have thought she had her purpose(s) all figured out. But the Emily today has been beatened down and knows she doesn’t need to know all the answers. She just needs to know that God has a purpose, trust God and move forward and that is what I am doing. The ending of the final blessing at our wedding, the priest said,” …and trudge the road to happy destiny”. I am still trudging that road. Mark may not be physically by my side, but I know he is with me as I navigate this new life that was not part of my plan.
Leave a ReplyCancel reply