Several weeks ago, my friends and I were chatting about a news article… (a pretty normal occurrence). While I don’t remember the specific details of the article, I do remember that a man had died (much too young) and (without knowing the exact cause of death) his spouse had started suing multiple people – just looking for someone… anyone to blame. At first the conversation was all about “what is she thinking”… “She doesn’t even know why he died yet.”
While that might be true, I still felt like I knew exactly what she was thinking… or at least pretty close… because I remember being in those shoes…
To say it was a shock when Bruce died would be an understatement. He was such a health-conscious person. He (for the most part) watched what he ate. He worked out regularly at the local gym. He was always researching supplements and vitamins – and trying those that seemed like they might improve his health in some way. He had a yearly physical on top of the ones required by his job.
In other words, he really did look after his health… He even inspired me to do a better job of being healthy.
In the weeks before he died, we had been out biking on the trails and kayaking in the canals and creeks. In the hours before he died, we had had a lengthy discussion about what we wanted to do that weekend… with kayaking the clear favorite endeavor. We snuggled in the bed that night as we fell asleep… All felt right in my world… I was so happy… So content… To think that he would be dead in less than six hours never crossed my mind… but that is exactly what happened.
After he died, I was absolutely drowning in questions. I didn’t understand. I was truly confused. How does this happen? Did someone miss something somewhere? I didn’t get it… It made no sense to me. The hospital told me that it appeared he had a heart attack, but that the medical examiner would do an autopsy and have a better (more clear) answer… It would only take “2 – 3 weeks” both the hospital and funeral director told me.
So, I waited… and I waited. I just wanted an answer… I needed an answer. Why in the world had my seemingly healthy, 52-year-old husband died?
At four weeks, I called… “They are running a little behind,” I was told, “four more weeks at most.” Then, you guessed it, four more weeks… and four more. Yep… it took four months to get our answer… Four excruciating months of not know… not understanding.
During those long months, (years before this blog was started), I would post comments on social media about my frustration at waiting so long and my desperate need for an answer. We all know how that goes, right? Some people offer empathy, others offer advice. There was a lot of compassion, and those people will never know how much that meant to me.
I also remember others telling me to let it go… why did it matter?… how was knowing going to change the ultimate outcome?… and that list of questions went on and on. I am sure that there are people for whom that would be good advice. However, for me, it was just a clue that I couldn’t talk about my grief and anxiety with those people… They are wonderful people, and I know they meant well. Nevertheless, that was not the “advice” I needed at that point.
What I did need was an answer… any answer. And if I am honest, I too wanted to blame somebody… anybody. Surely, a healthy man doesn’t just die in the middle of the night for no reason!
At four months… the evening before his memorial, we finally got an answer. Bruce had some heart issues that had either gone undetected or (as much as I don’t want to admit it) he had ignored. I will never know for sure.
Yet, I do know I am not the only one who still has questions… A couple of years ago, Bruce’s mother requested (and received) a full copy of the ME’s report, and kindly shared it with me. I have spent many hours over the last few years going over it and researching every term to better understand what happened to Bruce.
I don’t know what he knew or what choices (if any) he made. After he died, I found all the paperwork I would need to “legally process” his death in a stack on the counter… Which leads me to believe, he knew something was wrong.
I, also, can’t blame anyone else for decisions or choices he might have made. At the same time, I can’t be mad at him, either. Ultimately, the Medical Examiner told me that the only thing that would have saved Bruce’s life was a heart transplant (before this episode that killed him). Knowing Bruce, I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew that and made the choice not to do it… Obviously, though, I don’t know anything for sure. In fact, I’ll never know… and I have to learn to be okay with that.
I have to be okay with not having anyone to blame, and instead learning to accept his death as a part of his life… a life I was miraculously blessed to be a part of…
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This journey isn’t easy… not that you need me to tell you that. Loss is hard, and the grief we are left to figure out is even harder. This crazy journey is where I am continuously learning about life, faith, and love. And while there have been some great life lessons on this journey, I hate that losing Bruce is how I got here. I didn’t ask to be here, and I don’t want to be here… But I am here anyway.
As the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more good days than bad. Each day, I continue to learn more and more about those things that seem to help me heal and move forward. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without my love… without Bruce. Thankfully, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!
In fact, none of us need to be alone, because we have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.
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A life unexamined is not worth living. I truly believe this.