#memoriesofmarcus

It has been 2 months.  In these two months, Neva went from crawling to full on running and climbing up stairs.  She turns 1 TODAY... I threw her a bomb ass party and the entire time I did so wishing Marcus was here to experience the joy.  I have poured myself into party planning and latching onto Nora Purmort (a strong widow and inspiration to me), the Still Kickin Organization, and my fellow Hot Young Widows.  I find myself hoping for a connection to anything related to Marcus and his journey, albeit depressing.  When I am in the midst of general conversation, I find myself pushing to talk about Marcus and the last year.  It’s the giant Pink Elephant in the room.  

I was recently talking with a friend who couldn’t make it to the funeral, and while she and I aren’t super close (she actually knew Marcus better than me), she said that she wasn’t sure if I wanted to talk about Marcus with her because she knew I would be sad.  Our conversation ended with us crying while wearing Masquerade Masks at a Halloween Party.  It was what I needed after a long day hosting 45 people at my house for Neva’s 1st Birthday Party.  I am constantly having to reassure people that it’s ok, I want to talk about him.  if I could, I would talk about Marcus all day and would likely cry all day too, but I am ok with that.  

There are so many of you out there that want to grieve and I would love to be that person you grieve with.  I also have many friends who feel they can’t grieve openly with those in their innermost circle.  Call me, I am ready to have an explosion of feelings. We all have to grieve...in our own time.  

Just 5 weeks ago, I was hoping to get through October as it is a month that holds everything near and dear to my heart and my relationship with Marcus. October is over, I made it.  I have a few more battle wounds and thicker skin.  I am less tolerant of crappy people.  **Disclaimer, I wasn’t very tolerant of assholes before**, but now I won’t even engage in a relationship that isn’t mutually beneficial.  I can’t listen to the news and hear of all of the sad shit happening in this world; I know, I know, people are dying all over the world and atrocities are happening that are bigger than me losing Marcus, but right now, nothing is worse than not having Marcus.  So now that October is over, it’s not like I have won a battle, but it feels like at least I don’t have to celebrate my Birthday or Marcus’ without the one person you want by your side... and thankfully I can wait until October 1st, 2016 to celebrate another Wedding Anniversary without my partner who I committed to spending the rest of my life with.  Little did I know, it would mostly be about him committing to spend the rest of his life with me.

Dear Marcus,

Happy Birthday my love... Happy 30th Birthday to you.  You have achieved so much in your 30 years.  Look around you, there are so many people who love you and this is a reflection of the man you are and of the difference you make on the lives of your loved ones.  You were focused throughout school and made a difference in the lives of people wishing to stay fit, and to get fit.  You are one of the most patient people I know, even when I don’t want you to be.  You don’t always need to talk to EVERY solicitor or sales person at the mall!  I wish I was as patient as you.  You are patient with me.  Thank you for that.  

In your 30 years, you trusted your gut and made it through so much.  We made it through so much together and I love you for how you made me feel.  I love that you always have believed in me, and I am stronger because of you.  You actually realized what you wanted to be in life and committed to more school.  I know that was a lot to swallow but you have always been the best caregiver and this world was made better the day you became a nurse.  You are the only man I know who could complete a round of intense chemotherapy and then come home to a newborn baby, getting up with me in the wee hours to bounce Neva around the dark living room.  

I keep thinking back to our trip to Hawaii, when we decided we wanted to start a family.  Nearly 2 years ago, I still remember how special that trip was.  I remember you saying that whenever you felt like absolute shit, when you were losing your hair and the full effects of chemo were the only thing you could think about, you thought of Hawaii.  You thought of the blue water, the smell of salt water and late nights we spent dreaming of our baby.  We now know this baby, our Neva.   I can’t believe this little lady we have on our hands.  You would be so proud of her walking.  She actually runs, more than walks.  I cringe every time she gains momentum and fear she is going to face plant, or fall onto a corner and split her beautiful face.  

We used to joke that your in-patient chemo was equivalent to you being out of town on a work trip.  We reminded ourselves that many couples had brief bouts of distance due to work travel and that we were lucky if your 5 days at Fairview  Southdale were the only routine absences we had to swallow.  

Well this loss is nothing like an extended work trip.  

I wish I could continue writing to you in the present, as if I could scoot closer to you on the couch and give you a big kiss and push aside all of my sorrow.  Now my numerous memories of hugs and kisses will have to be enough and even then, I wonder if it will actually be enough.  I feel like I am breaking apart and that I am walking around like a Zombie.  I can still smell you with every deep breath I take and as much as I don’t want to, I continuously roll over hoping to find you next to me in bed.  The disappointment is too much to bear.

I have enclosed a picture of us on our last “Date Night” on Lake Minnetonka.  We sailed into the Sunset and I remember being so fucking happy, thinking “Marcus will be ok.  We can be ok”.  On your Birthday, I will remember the 21 years we spent arguing over which one of us got the “MEA weekend” to celebrate our respective Birthdays.  I usually won because I had the outdoor trampoline and let’s face it, the woman always wins.  Today I will think of you and only you and will miss you with each passing minute.  

Enough about how sad I am.  Happy Birthday to the best man, father, friend, and companion I know.  You deserve all of the happiness in the world and I am a better person because of you.  May you feel all of the blessings this world has to offer.  I always hoped that at 30 we would be together, celebrating in Vegas and although a plane ride isn’t waiting, I feel you.  I love you Marcus.  May this next year bring us both happiness.

Love Always, Bear

“Excessive mourning is nonproductive, someone remarks. A social inconvenience, downright inconsiderate in the public eye.  Life according to my friend, is a passage, a corridor, and she bids me to rid myself of morbid brooding.  Bullshit! I’m angry.” - Toby Talbot

It has been a little over a month since Marcus died.  I organized his cremation, funeral service, party and living arrangements for various visitors.  I informed all of the necessary people and companies of Marcus’ death.  There is nothing like calling the credit card company to inform them of his death and saying, “By the way, suck it.  You aren’t getting another dime from me”! I have brief moments where I feel pissed off that this has happened to me and that Neva will not have Marcus to walk her down the aisle.  And in those moments, all of my irrational demons become exposed.  

After all of the logistical bullshit is done, I go back to work.  I still drop Neva off for daycare.  I still get up and realize I need to wash my hair and I need to feed the dogs.  But everything feels like Marcus is lingering.  My entire day has Marcus in it, but with him gone.  It’s weird to listen to the radio and remember where I was when I first heard the Imagine Dragons song “Shots” and how elated Marcus and I were at the concert.  We had such a good night at that concert.  Now I hear that song and I want to puke.  I have a physical reaction to the song now.  I want shots, the Tequila kind.   

I have taken a lot of time each day to check in with myself; to try and think about how each moment made me feel.  How did I feel when my co-worker divulged his wife dying of complications with alcoholism? I felt touched that he shared this with me.  How did I feel when I sat in a Women’s Conference and each Panel member remarked that she couldn’t be a Corporate Mogul without her husband’s support. I felt like shit and absolutely hopeless. 

Despite the momentary feelings of sadness and self-pity, I also recognize my strength.  Marcus believed wholeheartedly in my ability to be a leader in the Corporate world.  He supported my career in moving to Omaha with me. Omaha people!  That’s in Nebraska - Gasp!  There were no pro-sports teams and Marcus made sure I understood this loss he felt.  To be clear, we actually had a great time there and established a norm.  I have never felt more lucky to have him by my side.  He was a true partner.  Marcus built me up as a woman, wife and mother and without his support, I could not make it through this loss. I only have a chance in hell at being a mom and career minded woman because Marcus believed in me.  He may be somewhere else, but he is part of my every move.  He is the push I need to go to bed and the motivation I need to wake up.  Many say their children are their motivation, and while Neva is absolutely what I live for right now, Marcus is what helps smooth things over.  I have never been a woman that needs a man in order to be happy, but when you make a choice to accept someone into your life and integrate that person into happiness, what do you do when they are tragically gone from the life you have built?  I don’t have the answer to that question but I am trying to understand what the hell to do and how to laugh again.  

Life is harder without Marcus in it.  Plain and simple.  I have many moments throughout the day in which my vision becomes blurry with tears, I can feel my face tighten up in preparation for grief and the bridge of my nose burns with the impending breakdown.  This life absolutely is terrible without Marcus and I don’t know how else to say it.  Neva walked this week and all I wanted was for Marcus to see it.  To cheer alongside me and to hug Neva as she realized her achievement.  

I have thought a lot about my general mood, specifically today, as this would have been Marcus and my 4th Wedding Anniversary. It still is our 4th Wedding Anniversary, but I am thinking about this day without Marcus to celebrate it with. Four years ago, right about this time in the day, I was fearless. I was fearlessly in love and ready to take the plunge. We were having our “first look” with the photographer and I was hardly able to walk as I caught a glimpse of him. I never thought twice about who I was marrying. This is also the same fearlessness that allowed me to blurt out “I love you” after only dating for 2 months. I knew he was the one. I was never so certain of anything else before.

When I commit to something, I dive right in. I always have been this way. My dad used to take us cliff jumping at a reservoir lake in Colorado and I recall one time when there was a relatively high cliff and I was with my two sisters, Maggie and Susan. We were all trying to decide if this was a good idea and my dad looked at the three of us and said “Emily, you go first”. Mind you, he was a grown ass man and here I am being asked to jump first. What did I do? I ran right off the cliff and felt weightless as I jumped. This feeling of fearlessness was met with a feeling of joy and weightlessness. This is the same feeling I had walking down the aisle. Pure joy and excitement.

I have known many fearless people over the years, but also have encountered people who do most things in life out of fear. Subsequently, these same people don’t do a lot out of fear as well. Four years after marrying Marcus, I don’t regret one day. Even the most painful days as I watched him leave me, mentally and physically. If I were the type of person who did things out of fear, I don’t think I would have enjoyed my 4 years with Marcus. Even at 30 (well, in 19 days) I have experienced more happiness than many I know. I had the privilege of knowing Marcus for 21 years. I have loved him for most of these years. We have traveled around the world, created a life together in three different states and we fearlessly dived into parenthood; I enjoyed every minute of it.

My reality the past 8 weeks has been... I can’t even finish the sentence.  I have these strange moments in which I don’t even think about the change that has taken place.  Some moments the thoughts of change are so overwhelming that I can’t focus.  Reading before bed used to be the only way I could calm my mind; the only way I could sleep.  Marcus needed to watch TV (which I wouldn’t allow in the bedroom) or watch something on his iPad to fall asleep.  Now, I can’t focus.  I can’t make it through a chapter without my mind wondering.  For some reason driving up to my house after picking Neva up from daycare is what gets me.  I am sure my neighbor thinks I am crazy. Sitting in my driveway crying, but it’s the moment I know will come every day.  

I want so badly to have Marcus back.  I wonder if I am going to become a cold bitch.  Someone who isn’t happy again.  Someone who yells at innocent cashiers for accidentally ringing up peaches for nectarines.  I was on a treadmill a few weeks ago and was talking on my phone to my Mother-in-law and the lady several machines down from me started to yell at me for talking too loud and I thought “I will end up like her.  Pissed that someone is having a real life conversation as she leisurely sweats at the gym”.  I wanted to turn to her and yell that my husband died and that I needed to be on the phone more than she needed to hear General Hospital through her shitty headphones, but instead, I kept talking and brooded about what could have made her so sad...or such a bitch.  I know that I won’t be the same Emily since losing Marcus.  I know that so many people will never be the same, but I sure do hope that the black cloud thins.  I hope that I don’t think about all of the experiences Neva won’t have, but that I focus on the new ones I will create for her.  

On top of the “feelings”, there are the more practical realities of someone dying. Like informing your Mortgage Company that your husband has died. Or cancelling his gym membership.  I sold one of our cars.  Sold his Road Bikes.  I have needed more copies of Marcus’ death certificates than I did marriage certificates.  I remember that my mom got mailings for my dad years after they divorced and my mom moved us 1,000 miles away.  I can’t bear to think that I will receive mail for the next 10 years for Marcus.  A constant reminder that he won’t ever be here to open the mail.

Marcus’ old Supervisor, Marietta, is also a widow.  And while she and I are separated by a few decades, we were emailing yesterday and she said she wished there was a different term than widow.  It’s so sad.  To think of us as widows.  The term widow stems from the Middle English word widewe, from an Indo-European root meaning “be empty”. Bingo.