There was no way on God’s good Earth I could have foreseen this happening … but it has happened.

My dear bride’s passing from cancer has allowed me to share my grief with those who are willing to read about it. Kathy Anne would want me to continue to “do what you love to do.” Indeed, she encouraged me to do so even as we believed a good outcome was possible when she was stricken at the end of this past year.

I have done that. You know what? It has given me a peculiar sense of comfort to share my grief.

Kathy Anne often would joke that since my career came to an end in 2012 that I was being “paid to have fun.” Yes, writing is “fun” for me. It’s what I do. I’ll leave it to others to assess the quality of the work I churn out. I’ve been called a “prolific” blogger. That’s probably true, as I was able to write a heavy volume of news stories on deadline back in the day when I was filled with loads of energy.

These days I am a whole lot longer in the tooth, but am still able to kick it out. I have done so even as I grapple with this intense feeling of loss and sadness.

And it helps. A lot! It gives me a curious feeling of peace. I cannot begin to define its source or why it happens. It just does!

So, if you don’t mind, I will continue to share segments of this still-developing journey toward the rest of my time on Earth. Many of you might be able to relate to the struggle that we all face.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

My journey through the darkness of grief continues … but I am happy to report that it appears to be moving into a new phase.

It’s undefined at this moment, but I am sensing comfort in the company of good friends.

I met two dear friends today. One of them is recovering from major back surgery. She is in rehab at a Frisco hospital. Her husband is there, too, sleeping on an uncomfortable couch in her room.

I made the drive from Princeton to see them. I was anxious to (a) get out of the house for a couple of hours and (b) to enjoy the company of these two delightful individuals.

During our visit, we found ourselves not dwelling on my sadness. Yes, there was a moment when I talked about my dear bride, Kathy Anne, and couldn’t continue through the tears.

The moment passed quickly and we resumed whatever it was we were discussing. Our chat turned to political matters in Amarillo, where they have relocated after living briefly in the Metroplex before deciding their roots on the Caprock were too deep to abandon.

We looked back at a number of issues that I had been following during my years as a journalist in Amarillo. They remain involved in the life of the community. We chatted about their son and his wife. We talked about my sons and their lives.

Our visit took many fascinating turns during the hour-plus I sat with my friends.

Why bring this up? Because the journey on which I have embarked since my bride’s passing on Feb. 3 has been mostly dark. I had found myself thinking mostly about her final days on this Earth. I also have discovered that I am able to share others’ joy, such as my friend’s recovery from back surgery and their return to the community that gave them their identities.

I am thinking less about myself, especially when I am in the company of others. That’s a big deal, man!

The journey will continue. I don’t expect it to be an easy path toward the light, but I am beginning to see some glimmers.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

I had said in an earlier post I was going to back off my commentary over dealing with grief … but I now am going to renege on that statement with this brief post.

I want to declare to those who have been following my journey through the darkness after my darling bride’s passing from cancer that I am starting to turn a key emotional corner.

I am finding myself quite able to conduct business, to do certain tasks and — most importantly — to actually smile and laugh.

The only time I crack is when I talk about Kathy Anne, when I remember something about her, when I recall the love we shared, when I bring back memories of the glorious journey we took over the span of 51 years.

Indeed, I am welling up as I write those words.

However, I am sensing the start of a new normal for my life. I don’t yet know where it will lead me. I am confident, though, that I will find my way to the light. I am learning, too, to take it all one day at a time.

I have learned yet another valuable life lesson and something more about myself. It is that life must go on even as we deal with shocking, shattering loss. I am going through it to this moment and I am beginning to believe I can get through it.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

OK, gang. I am going to give you one more brief update on my struggle with grief before I move on to other topics — at least for a little while.

The loss of my beloved bride a little more than a week ago has prompted me to make at least one command decision as I begin the long trek toward daylight at the end of this dark path.

I will hit the road, probably sooner rather than later. Toby the Puppy and I are going to climb into our pickup truck and go somewhere, probably out west toward the Pacific Ocean.

I have family out there and I have friends who live along the way. I want to see them. But more importantly — and I know that’s hard to fathom — is that I want to vacate the house I shared with Kathy Anne for the past four years.

Why? Because I see her everywhere in this house. Her cabinets with angels. Her wall decorations. The pictures she put out of our sons and assorted family members. My bride’s fingerprints are all over this place.

They will be there when I return. I know that I will have to look at what she left behind when I walk through the door. I believe in my heart I will be able to take it all in better than I can at this moment.

Of course, and this goes without saying (but I’ll say it anyway), I never will cease remembering her and the life we shared for more than five decades.

We are going to have a memorial service on Feb. 25. That will occur in the church where we worshiped for two decades in Amarillo. I hope to see our many friends come to celebrate the joyful life my bride led and remember her as the faithful servant of God she was for her entire life.

After that? I’m on the road in search of that shining light.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com