This prolonged period of mourning I am enduring is teaching me many things, one of which is the unintended cruelty of others.

My dear bride passed away four months ago from a savage form of cancer. I miss Kathy Anne every waking minute of every day. Yes, I have written a lot about that already and I don’t mean to belabor the point, as my grief is getting easier to manage.

What is maddening, though, in the extreme are the phone calls and text messages that keep coming at me from those interested in buying my property in Princeton, Texas.

It’s a modest, but nice home. I am making payments each month, just as we did when we purchased it in early 2019.

OK, I know what’s going on. I had to file some paperwork with the Collin County Clerk’s Office, in its probate department. It’s public record. The word has made its way to the real estate buzzards circling overhead. They want to make me a “cash offer” on the house.

I tell them all essentially same thing. I might hang up on them or tell them, simply, “I am not selling. Goodbye.”

On occasion I might ask the caller, “What prompts you to make this call? Does it have anything to do with my wife’s passing?”

They hang up.

It’s no surprise to anyone, I am sure, that losing a beloved spouse is new to me. I have not traveled down this road before. My sadness is tough to shake, even without the assortment of messages and “outreach” from those seeking to do business with me.

They likely won’t read this blog, but this forum does give me a chance to vent my frustration during this still-difficult time in my life.

So … I just did. Thanks for hearing me out.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

Well, everyone, my journey through the darkness has brightened up with the arrival this week of my elder son.

My wife’s passing from cancer in February has presented all of us with a mighty struggle to be sure. My sons, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter all miss Kathy Anne terribly … as I do. The sadness I continue to feel without her won’t go away any time soon. Of that I am certain.

My son’s arrival after he sold his house in Amarillo, though, has brightened both of our spirits. It’s the “new era” I mentioned in an earlier blog post.

It will be a temporary arrangement. He needs to find a job, even though he is officially “retired” from the state of Texas, where he worked for 20-plus years as an adult probation officer.

After that, then the search will commence on a new place to hang his hat. However, I am delighted beyond words to have human companionship in my house, which had grown so very quiet since early February.

He brought his two cats with him. As of this moment, there have been no issues with Toby the Puppy, who continues to dominate his house. I don’t expect any trouble with the kitties. At least that is my fond hope.

This arrangement produces a whole array of “new normal” activities for both my son and me.

The journey continues.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

AMARILLO, Texas — The elder of my sons is a giant step closer this afternoon to making a move that is likely to cause him more angst than he might realize at this moment.

He has been a grown man for quite some time now, so I am reluctant to share unsolicited advice with him … or his slightly younger brother. I did so privately today en route back from the landfill to his soon-to-be former house. He took it like the grownup he is, so enough said about that.

I also have told him that I am proud of him and that I welcome this change in his life and in mine as well. We’ll be roommates for a time in Princeton, sharing a house I once shared with my beloved bride, Kathy Anne.

It won’t be the same, for obvious reasons, but I welcome this change for reasons I know everyone who reads this blog and who has followed my journey through the darkness understands.

We have worked hard today. My son enlisted the help of a friend to do some of the heavy lifting. Very soon, he can put this chapter in his own life in his proverbial rearview mirror.

Then all of us — and that includes my younger son’s family — can look forward to new challenges and adventures.

For now, though, I am going to take a nap.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

Every friend with whom I have discussed this matter has said the same thing: Do not rush your way out of your mourning and your heartache.

It will take time for your heart to heal, they say. Yes. I get it. My heart is still broken from the loss of my beloved bride, Kathy Anne, to cancer not quite three months ago. It isn’t likely to heal completely … ever!

I am not rushing anything. However, I am happy to report to those who have an interest in this journey I have been taking that I am beginning to establish a bit of a rhythm to my new life and, yes, the fog is lifting … albeit slowly.

Some things still pierce my soul; they bring tears to my eyes. One of them is the sight of the headstone with Kathy Anne’s name on it. The monument maker this week installed it and I have made two trips to the cemetery to see it. I’ll leave it at that.

But as I go through my day, I am finding an ability to accomplish tasks with dispatch. I take time to laugh at a joke. I play with Toby the Puppy, who continues to provide tremendous companionship … and who continues to entertain me in that way that only devoted pets can do.

And I am able to write about her on this blog, an exercise that gives me a form of emotional therapy.

I can talk openly about my bride now, whereas doing so just a few weeks ago would reduce me to blubbering.

Is any of this a startling revelation? Of course not! It is merely my understanding and appreciating the knowledge that my life is changed forever.

This much hasn’t changed since the day Kathy Anne left us: I still think of her practically every waking moment of every single day. Maybe one day that will change. Just not yet.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com