Castle in the Clouds

  I shared a post on Facebook yesterday about how different people express and process their grief. It resonated because I recognized not only myself in it but those grieving around me.  All of us are struggling in our own way.  My boys seem to find some solace in the distraction video games provide but they are burdened with bouts of sadness and anger, too. A good friend of ours has decided to remodel his entire house. Others have made it their mission to take care of me and the boys as much as we will allow it.  I welcome the distractions my friends and family provide. The things we do and the places we go bring much-needed smiles and laughter. They give me something to focus on other than the empty recliner in the living room or Ken's clothes hanging in our bedroom closet.  In the months since Ken has been gone, I've done so much. It wasn't always easy but I'm glad I pushed myself to say yes even when I really wanted to say no. Saying yes kept me connected t...

My updates here on the blog were almost non-existent during Ken's cancer diagnosis and treatment. I realized this today when I was looking back through some of my previous posts.  I've only written a handful of times about what the beginning of 2021 looked like for our family.  Our rough start was written almost three months into Ken's journey. Then I shared a bit in early May about the ups and downs of pancreatic cancer . A little over a month after that post, I put up a brief  announcement  regarding Ken's passing.  Writing about Ken's cancer here was difficult for a few reasons. First and foremost, he didn't want to plaster the news all over social media because he didn't want complete strangers reaching out. So we created a Facebook group for our family, friends, and coworkers. It was there where he and I most often posted about things.  Funny enough, the man was so well-loved, that group had over 100 members. I made my first post there on February 6, ...

It's been just a little over five months now since I lost my husband to pancreatic cancer.  In some ways, it feels so much longer.  It feels like an endless stretch of days without his input or guidance, his problem-solving skills, his companionship. I miss his laugh. His hugs. I miss watching television together, camping trips, and family vacations. I miss our talks about work, the kids, the grandbaby, and life in general. I miss him. I miss our life together.  Strangely, I cry less now.  But it takes longer to fall asleep.  There's a part of me that feels bad that I don't cry as often or as easily as I first did.  My tears seem to be held in reserve, appearing only when I stop to think about how much he is missing.  The main triggers are our boys and grandson. When I stop and think about how much Ken would have loved being able to be here and take part in their lives, my control lapses. It always makes me recall those heartwrenching conversations we ...

 I'm here. I'm functioning. I'm trying my best.   Right now...that feels like a win. 

On May 20, 2021, my husband lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. I lost the love of my life, my best friend, my person. My boys lost their father, their rock.  We are devastated. 

  The last time I posted it was late March. Ken was undergoing chemotherapy and managing it fairly well, even though some of the side effects were rather unpleasant. We soon got into the rhythm of living with cancer. We had chemo weeks and "good" weeks. During chemo weeks, Ken was often fatigued and lacking any kind of appetite. He lost weight, as we expected he would but had hoped he would not. He kept most of his hair; it thinned a bit but still has not fully fallen out. The neuropathy worsened with each chemotherapy session, even affecting his feet.  His good weeks were, well, good.  He would go visit friends and family he felt safe around - mostly those that took COVID seriously. After all, if they were taking COVID seriously, we figured it also meant they were more likely to be protected against the common cold and flu viruses. An immune-compromised system is susceptible to so many things. Keeping him healthy was our main concern, which meant some of the more careles...

 Even with COVID still plaguing the U.S., we had a lovely Christmas and New Year's Eve. While the large family gatherings were cancelled, we still got to spend time with a small number of people during the holidays. The gathering pictured below was the most important one and I was so relieved when everything worked out and we were able to have our Christmas Eve exchange with my oldest boy and his family. I would have been devastated if we had had to miss our grandbaby's first Christmas. Luckily, we were fully recovered from COVID and everyone felt healthy.  Things didn't go sideways until after the holidays.  On New Year's Day, Ken woke up feeling terrible. We thought he was having a gall bladder attack. He was in so much pain I offered to take him to the Emergency Room. He refused and somehow managed to make it over to his mom and dad's for Christmas with them.  The gallbladder attacks continued. Our doctor was on vacation and didn't return until the second wee...