Better days

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I am just over the four-month mark since losing my Joe. My brain seems to be working better now. I didn’t even realize the fog I’d been in.

Grieving clouds everything.

Imagine if you will a veil over your head. One that allows a small amount of light in, but nothing is clearly visible. Sounds are muffled. Your interest in what’s happening around you is non-existent. You function without even realizing it. You wake up each morning and find it hard to catch your breath. Nothing matters. Your world has literally stopped spinning.

That’s what my grief felt like.

I barely remember the last four months. I’ve buried the memory of Joe going into cardiac arrest. The trauma from it is just too difficult to think about. I can write about the clinical aspect of what happened to him, but the rest of it will remain deep within me. The twelve days he spent in ICU all run together now with memories of family gathered around, sleepless nights, lots of stress, a rollercoaster of hope, despair and so many prayers. The only crystal-clear memory I have now is kissing him goodbye for the last time, and the moment his heart stopped for a second time, for the last time.

The moment my heart stopped.

I hardly remember the funeral, and while I know there were 60+ people in our backyard celebrating him after the service, it’s all so fuzzy and vague to me now. The holidays came and went. I know they were hard and sad, but I wasn’t truly present for any of it.

I’m happy to say the fog seems to be lifting a little bit now. I feel lighter most days. I still fall backwards sometimes. Some memories of Joe knock the wind right of out me, and the tears find their way to the surface instantly. Other memories make me smile and even laugh now. I know how lucky I was to have the last 22+ years with him by my side. I know how lucky we were to experience a love so beautiful. I’m so grateful for him. He made me a better person.

His love, and loving him, was worth all of this pain.

I know better days are coming, and I plan to embrace them just like Joe would.

house party in 2006

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About Me

I’m Kelly. Widowed at 59, this is the real and raw story of losing my husband, and my new reality. My beautiful husband Joe passed away in September 2023 from complications after cardiac arrest. We were married for almost 22 years. I’m a mom to an amazing son, and I have been an executive assistant for over 40 years. I live just outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma with our 2 rescue dogs Hope & Grace.