And then there were three...

This has been the year from hell, to put it mildly. I won't go into politics or other things not directly involved in my life, but 2017 has been one of the worst years of my life.

In case you haven't read the rest of this blog, my husband died suddenly in April 2017. This week I had to euthanize my cat, who I've had since she was a kitten. She was 17 years old (that's 85 in human terms), and it was just her time; her body was shutting down. When it got to the point where I thought she was beginning to suffer, I decided it was time to take her to the vet. I held her in my lap, stroking her gently as the vet administered the anesthesia, and she simply fell asleep for the last time.

I was pretty well prepared for this because she had been showing some signs of decline for about the last 6 months. She had lost a lot of weight, and just didn't seem to have the energy and strength she used to have. What I wasn't prepared for came a few days later. I had just woken up, with my two dogs nearby (one at my feet as always, one on the floor next to the bed), and I had the sudden realization that my family had gone from 5 members to 3 in the space of just a few months. For some reason that knowledge hit me hard and I sobbed for a good 20 minutes before I could get hold of myself.

Why did this thought bring so much pain with it? Part of it is that I can be fairly certain that my family will go from 3 members to 2 members to just me in a few years - the dogs are 8 and 7 years old; they aren't going to live forever. And they are so precious to me, both as "man's best friends" and as a direct connection to my husband. How will I deal with it when it's their times? I can get another dog, but not one that knew and loved him.

I know I'm not living in the present with this line of thinking, but I just can't help it sometimes. And of course there's my own mortality, which surprisingly I'm not too concerned about. If I were to die before the dogs, they would be well taken care of by a close friend who loves them and whom they absolutely adore.

Lost and scared

I don't have any answers about my future. I think that's the part that scares me the most, and the pain I experience every day is driven by fear, I'm sure of that.

My future really is wide open...I can do anything I want, be anyone I want...and I have no idea who I am or what it is I want. I have spent my entire life being what everyone else needs, and I don't know what *I* need. I'm clueless and it scares the shit out of me because I'm afraid I won't figure it out before my time on this plane is finished. I'm so lost and scared...

Wedding thoughts

This evening, I went to the wedding reception of a friend and coworker. I had prepared myself to be pretty miserable (see my previous post on jealousy & bitterness). After all, it was supposed to remind me of one of the happiest times of my life, and how I had lost it all when Kevin died.

But I actually kind of enjoyed myself. I chatted with some people I knew from work, and just had a nice relaxed time. On top of that, in spite of my expectations (and to my astonishment), I actually felt genuinely happy for the bride and groom.

Of course there were a couple of moments, as I was talking to someone about travel and describing some of the travel Kevin and I had done, that I felt sad, but it was more of a wistful kind of sad than the soul-crushing sorrow I have felt.

I'll take progress any way I can get it. 

On traveling alone

I traveled to Los Angeles this past weekend for my every-6-month checkup appointment with my cardiologist (it's a long story as to why I see a cardiologist so far from home. By the way, the appointment went well, everything is fine). The weekend was MUCH more difficult than I anticipated because, other than when I went to LA for his funeral (numb the entire trip), this was the first time I've gone to LA (out of countless trips) without Kevin.

So many aspects of the visit triggered loneliness, sadness, and even fear. Waiting at the doctor's office, where Kevin, with the clinical demeanor he normally reserved for his patients (he was a nurse), would always make sure we understood everything the doctor was saying. Visiting our friend who lives in Santa Monica, as we did so many times before. She lives just down the street from Palisades Park, the site of our wedding almost three years ago. Memories, that while very happy, are very painful to relive. That's quite a paradox, which I'm still trying to pick apart and understand.

Spending time with his sister was really hard - not because I don't like spending time with her, she's wonderful and I love her, but again, so many memories. Same thing with his dad.

Hell, for that matter just arriving at LAX...pulling up to the departures terminal...going through security...waiting for my flight. All those things that we did together, so many times, became almost unbearable to face alone.

But face them I did, and while I nearly dissolved into a puddle of tears and sobbing a few times over the course of the weekend, I made it.

Bittersweet weekend

I sing with the New Mexico Gay Men's Chorus. This weekend we had our Pride performances, which were the final performances of the season. All three performances went well, and I really enjoyed the whole season!

I have come to really depend on the sense of family I feel with the guys in the chorus; after all, they've been there for me when I needed their love and support these past couple of months. Now there will be no weekly trips to Albuquerque (about an hour from where I live) for rehearsal, not until September. I don't know what I'm gonna do without them this summer.

Sure, I'll probably see a few of the guys at some point during the summer, but it won't be like being in the same space with the whole group at once, singing in harmony. I'm afraid it's going to be a rough summer.

Jealousy & bitterness

I've caught myself several times in the past couple of weeks feeling extreme jealousy and bitterness towards people I see experiencing a very specific form of happiness. It's not like I'm jealous of or bitter towards everyone who's happy, but I am very much so towards "the happy couple".

For example, when I see a wedding on a TV show, while everyone else is shedding tears of joy, I'm shedding hot, angry tears of jealousy and sadness. When I see a couple holding hands, walking down the street, smiling and having an intimate conversation, I feel an almost uncontrollable sense of loneliness as well as bitterness towards them.

It isn't their fault, and I feel ashamed for feeling this way. But I can't help it. I want what they have; I want back what I had before it was taken away from me. It's so unfair!

While our relationship and our marriage wasn't perfect, it was mostly good and mostly happy; and Kevin and I did a lot of work to keep it that way. We worked on communication, we saw our therapists (both our individual therapists and our couples therapist) regularly; in short, we did everything in our power to keep our wedding vows. So to have all that so unceremoniously yanked away feels like a huge cosmic insult on top of injury.

I'm repulsed by these feelings I have; they stain my conscience and defile my sense of well-being. How do I get rid of the jealousy and bitterness and replace them with positive feelings towards these unsuspecting happy couples?

Making a difference

My husband Kevin was a big supporter of Youth Heartline (www.youthheartline.org), a nonprofit based in Taos, NM, which has as its mission "to make life safer and better for vulnerable children and families in the community", which it carries out through outreach & advocacy programs, supervised visitation monitoring, an afterschool enrichment program, and more. 

Yesterday, I was told that their board of directors voted unanimously to name their endowment fund the "Kevin Wolff Endowment for Youth Heartline" (name subject to slight change, to make it "flow" better).

I am overwhelmed with emotion at this announcement - it is such an honor to Kevin's memory, and the endowment (which he helped start) will help secure the future of the vital programs and services that Youth Heartline provides. In an uncertain political climate where absolutely nothing is safe from funding cuts on the whims of our current leadership, private funding for these programs and services is needed now more than ever.

Please read more about the essential work that Youth Heartline does at www.youthheartline.org. Then make a donation. You can make a one-time contribution, set up a monthly contribution, or even have Amazon donate each time you make a purchase through their Amazon Smile program! Every donation helps, no matter how large or small.