Tag Archives: grief

Memories serve as salve

I just discovered something about the grief I am enduring at this moment … which is that recalling memories of the loved one I just lost serves as a salve for the pain that continues to cut deeply into my heart.

Many of you know already that I lost my bride this past Friday to cancer. The diagnosis came the day after Christmas. Then she was gone.

My sons and I are planning a service soon here in North Texas. One of them joined me in meeting with the pastor who will officiate at Kathy Anne’s graveside service. The Rev. Mally Baum — who my bride and I only recently got to know when we began attending the church where Mally serves — asked me questions about my bride.

She wanted to know more about her life journey and about her faith journey. My son and I shared much with her. We laughed out loud at some of the goofy things my wife would say. We shared her story, talked about her upbringing, I recalled the day she appeared before me at the college we both attended, about our story together and how we insisted on holding hands when we walked together.

Remembering those things brings comfort to me and to my sons.

Is it pain free? Of course not! I still well up … easily, in fact. Then it passes.

My friends tell me the grief will not subside quickly. They remind, though, that it will eventually. I believe Joe Biden’s wisdom when he has told Americans that the tears we shed when we think of lost loved ones will give way to smiles and laughter.

It’s happening to me now. albeit in teeny, tiny increments.

Grief, indeed, can teach us much about ourselves. I am learning about myself in real time.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

No one is alone

Those who have been following my recent journey through a medical challenge, through anxiety and now through grief will understand what I am about to write on this blog post.

It is that the passing of my dear bride, Kathy Anne, to cancer has shattered my heart into a million pieces. Maybe more. The diagnosis of malignant brain cancer came on Dec. 26 and her struggle ended just this past Friday.

We had reason to hope for a positive outcome. Then it became, well, tragic.

What I am learning through my grief is something that I have known intellectually for as long as I have been able to process such things. Which is that I am far from the only person who has lost someone so dear to me to a merciless killer such as cancer.

We started our life together more than 51 years ago. We chose each other to be our partners in life through every peak and valley that our life would confront. We aren’t the first couple to make that pledge. We won’t be the last.

I have to remind myself of that undeniable fact as I grapple with my own grief. I have to tell myself — and I have been doing so frequently in the past 48 or so hours — that I am truly not alone in this struggle.

As near as I can tell, that means this level of grief and sorrow has been with humankind since the very beginning … of time.

My word of advice, therefore, to others who will endure the heartache I am feeling at this moment is that you, too, should keep in mind that if others can get through this unbearable pain, then so can you.

My pain endures, but so will I eventually find the light at the end of this dark journey.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

Love keeps pouring in

It is impossible to convey the feeling one gets at a time of intense emotional grief when those with whom he is related, or those who he calls friends, or even those he knows only casually reach out to express their support.

The love that comes to my sons and me at this time in the wake of my dear bride’s passing has been overpowering.

I awoke this morning dreading the day that awaited, as it marked the first full day I would be without my beloved Kathy Anne nearby. It got better once the sun rose and once my son and I completed some tasks that needed to be done.

Still, I find myself tearing up at the mention of things that made my bride smile. Or when I am asked the date of our marriage. Or when I learn of my granddaughter’s intention to give something for Grandma to take with her when we say goodbye in a few days.

I know those spells will pass. I cannot — and I dare not — predict when that will occur. I just know that they will and I will know when that moment has arrived.

This blog post is intended for those who have expressed their love and support. It is meant as one more thank you from me and from those who are sharing this grief.

I do not intend to bore you with further expressions of thanks and gratitude. Indeed, I am running out of ways to say it.

So, I’ll just feel it in my heart.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

Dealing with heartbreak … the sudden kind

boredom

We’ve all been through this.

You get to know individuals. You work with them, share a joke with them, learn a little about their family. You consider them to be a friend, but you don’t socialize with them or get to know them too much beyond what they reveal in the context of your professional relationship.

Then you get a phone call. You hear that this person has just died. He’s gone! Forever! Just like that!

The news sucks the air out of your lungs. You feel like you’ve just been kicked in the gut, or the chops … or both — at once!

Matthew Hutchison was a young man in his late 30s. He and I worked together at the Amarillo Globe-News for a number of years. Our duties were vastly different. Matt was an assistant city editor in charge of managing reporters and editing their stories to ensure they were accurate and complete. I edited the Opinion page at the paper. We kept a professional separation, but we maintained a cordial, friendly personal relationship.

Were we close friends? Did we see each other after hours?

No. But when the news arrives as it did this morning that your friend and former colleague has passed away, well, it’s still difficult to assess.

Especially at this time of year. We’re entering the holiday season. We are about to give thanks for our blessings. I cannot imagine how Matt’s young wife and their three precious little girls are going to cope with their heartbreak at this moment.

We all feel their pain. We also know that even as they feel the love that will pour their way, it won’t lessen their grief.

I just hope they know they are not alone. They have plenty of company during this terrible moment.

Oh, man. This really hurts.