My bride once asked me — while we attended the 10-year reunion of my Portland, Ore., high school class — why I wasn’t reuniting with the female classmates gathered at a city park where we all met.

My answer to Kathy Anne: I was “painfully shy” as a teenager. I was uncomfortable talking to girls, I told her. Less than four years after graduating from high school, the sensational young woman whom I would marry broke me of my shyness … if you know what I mean.

I recently declared my intention to return to the world “social interaction” since losing my dear bride to cancer this past February. I am a lot more socially skilled than I was a teenager. I like talking to “girls” these days and if you’ll pardon my candor, I am pretty good at it.

I still get a bit jittery at the prospect of asking someone on a date. I still don’t always say the correct thing at precisely the correct moment.

I also realize something else. I am nearly 74 years of age. Thus, time is not my ally. I figure that if I am going to find someone with whom I want to spend copious amounts of time in my final years on Earth, I had better get busy.

Thus, my journey through the post-mortem grief of losing the love of my life is getting brighter seemingly each day. It isn’t quite so dark these days along the path I have been walking since I bid farewell to my beloved Kathy Anne.

My destination still is to be determined. As I shake off the shyness that inhibited me as a youth, I know I’ll find that place sooner rather than later.

Sometimes I am motivated by forces I cannot understand, let alone explain … such as the force this afternoon that pushed me into looking into the volume of blog posts I have published about the loss of my bride to cancer.

I looked at the archive and noticed that, well, holy crap, I have written a lot about this journey I am on.

Here’s the link that would give you an idea of what I’ve written already about Kathy Anne:

Search Results for “Kathy Anne” – High Plains Blogger (wordpress.com)

Now comes a question I have asked myself: When am I going to give it a rest? My answer is simple. Not any time soon.

I am motivated partly by selfish concerns. One of them is that writing about my bride is cathartic, therapeutic and even a bit comforting. We all need comfort, therapy and catharsis when circumstances compel them, right?

The worst day of my life is fading farther into the past. I get that I shouldn’t wallow in the intense pain that overwhelmed my family and me in the moment. I truly am not wallowing in it. As a matter of fact, I am actually getting past much of the pain as time goes by.

I also know that I am not alone in this grief. What we are feeling in this moment is very much like what billions of other families have endured since the beginning of time. They got through it. So will we.

However, my attempt by using the blog to comment on our loss is just to give some affirmation to others who have gone through what we are enduring. Therefore, the quest for support is not a one-way endeavor. I hope to give as much affirmation as whatever I receive.

So, I am going to stay on this topic, writing about my family’s journey as time and events compel me.

What’s more … writing this blog keeps me alert.

Oh, how I enjoy writing this blog, particularly in recent months as I have sought to deal with my intense grief and heartache over the loss of my beloved bride.

Kathy Anne passed away from cancer in February. I have sought to tell my story without getting overly sappy. Sappiness might be part of my DNA, but I recognize that it isn’t for everyone. So I have sought to keep my blog posts about Kathy Anne relatively free of it.

I hope you’ll bear with me for the time being as I continue on this journey. Truth be told I am doing better today than I was a week ago. I thought I was regressing a bit, but it didn’t happen.

What do I credit for my continued recovery? I am going to give credit to this blog, which is my venue to tell you what is on my mind and in my heart.

Doing so has released much of the pain. Along the way I hope to have offered a lesson or two to those who are enduring similar tragedies.

I said at the outset that I am bolstered by the knowledge that I am far from the only human being ever to experience such a loss. Others have gone through it and come out OK on the other side.

I will too. Of that I am certain. Before I arrive, though, I will need to continue to express my thoughts on this blog.

Spoiler alert: There is more to come.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com

My emotions are playing tricks on my heart, as they keep spiraling high before they head in the other direction.

This latest journey to mend my heart has taken me nearly to the Atlantic Coast. I have shed a few tears talking about my bride, Kathy Anne … whose story you know by now.

At this very moment, though, I am feeling far better than I was the other day. Indeed, I seem to be turning some sort of emotional corner. The heart-mending will be a forever project, of that I am certain. I am understanding better the need to give myself more time.

It’s only been not quite six months since I experienced the worst day of my life. It seems like about, oh, an hour ago when I got the call from the hospital that I had lost my bride to cancer. The emotions still run raw on occasion.

But the upward swings are lasting longer than the downward spirals.

Thus, I am looking forward to more of the same.

johnkanelis_92@hotmail.com