Tag: Grief

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A Reflection & Public Service Announcement:

Today is the 3 year-anniversary of our Stage 4 Diagnosis Day, and I feel compelled to share a little something-something today, now that we are 3 years out from that dreadful day. This is the day that my life most profoundly changed, followed closely by the day I became a 1st time mother, but that day was wrapped in joy, whereas diagnosis day was shrouded in fear, grief, & unbelievable pain, but I tend to write more about sad things than happy things. (Don’t I sound like some fun person you would want to hang out with at parties?? LOL! Disclaimer, I think I am more fun in real life than I am in my writing, but obviously I am not a reliable source on the matter. )

I was talking to a dear friend yesterday about how much my life has changed over the last 3 years, & how she has been a confidant & friend throughout that whole period (shoutout to my small group leader, you know who you are. 😉)  And while I always wish I could see the future & see where this or that will lead, I’m thankful for 1,000 past days that I didn’t know the various looming heartaches that awaited me, because I’m not sure I would have stayed on those different courses, but honestly I would have missed so much if I had taken any one of the detours offered to me. For its only in hindsight that you, or at least that I have, come to realize that the pain & agony of life is where & when you often learn the most profound life lessons, reprioritize the way you spend your time, and reconsider who you choose to spend your time with, all while drawing closer to God along the way.

I have said before, and I will say again, while our family’s Cancer journey, (because truly, one person’s cancer diagnosis is a diagnosis for all of those around them too) was wretched and heartbreaking, it was also, I see now, a necessary evil we all had to go through, like a refinement process turning us all into the people He has planned for us to be. Our girls have grown and matured and faced things that you would wish on no one, but as a result, I believe they too have learned so much and grown in their character and developed immeasurable in their grit along the way, that I stand in awe of them at moments. But at the same time, while we 3 may have emerged stronger 3-years later, I see us like a broken bone that heals, but still aches when it rains, and had we known, really known for sure, not just some hokey prediction what we would face if we did this or that, or didn’t do this or that, I know we would have all done whatever it took to avoid it, but then where would be now? Who can say?

Now, don’t read that and think that I am all Zen, and only spend my time on worthwhile things today, because I don’t.  I confess, I just binged The Perfect Couple on Netflix this past weekend, and I am just as guilty, if not more so than, the next person of mindlessly scrolling and watching ridiculous Reels about love, life, and black labradors, but I do try to be more intentional with my time and stay more present with my people than I used to; I also spend a lot more time, not necessarily on my knees in prayer, but certainly time while I drive and walk and drift off to sleep. I almost always have an ongoing conversation going on with God in my head. more time than not, about both the meaningful and the mundane, of hopes and dreams and small pleas. So much so, that I imagine that even He is thinking, TMI Dany, TMI.  LOL!

And to add to all of those maybe not so deep and philosophical thoughts brewing in my brain today, 😂 I’ll share that I am thoroughly enjoying Here One Moment, by Liane Moriarty, (book club friends: read this one!) that poses the question, can ‘Fate be Fought?’ From my experience, and those who know me well, & know of my story of the Palm reader prediction @ age 21 that turned out to be true 28 years later, my advice is to not mess with the occult, don’t look beyond the veil, not that it might be an inaccurate sneak peak, but I don’t believe that we were designed to know the future, because said knowledge could pollute your todays. Live gratefully in the present & pray fervently & constantly for the little & the large. 

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We 3 After 2-Years

Friday marks the 2-year anniversary of a great loss, the day Jamey left this earth. While we all knew it was time, those last days were agonizing for us all, the finality of death is not truly comprehensible until you experience it. And while Jamey is, I know, enjoying the good life in heaven, we three were left behind to figure life out on our own, without our anchor, our rock. 

For better and for worse, I will never be the woman I once was. Our family dynamic was forever changed, & we three are still figuring out who we are now & who we want to be tomorrow. 

As for me, I’m trying harder to lean into each day & to be thankful for all the moments, the good & the bad. I’m trying harder to prioritize my time, & focus on my relationships, letting the inconsequential go, but it’s not easy. It’s a constant battle for me to choose to nurture a relationship & ignore the lesser grievances. But I’m trying to be, in the words of Jamey Hollingsworth, the bigger person & take the high road, – a lesson my girls still discuss & point out when we each miss the mark. (Family = accountability partners 🤦🏼‍♀️😂) And while I’m proud of some of my wins in that arena, I’m also ashamed of some of my losses. But I’d like to think that overall, Jamey would be proud of how I’ve carried on without him, and I KNOW he’d be proud of our girls. They’re blossoming into such beautiful & smart & capable young women, whether in spite of or because of their great loss, I don’t know. 😢

Personally, I’ve grown so much stronger, become so much more independent, & learned so much along the way, but I still struggle & falter, so I spend a lot of time talking to God & asking for wisdom & guidance.

But while my heart broke 💔 in half, 2-years ago, the amazing thing about the heart, is that it❤️‍🩹 heals, & scar tissue is thicker & tougher than the never before broken, soft heart. Those battle scars, once healed, tend to serve as armor that can protect you & help you overcome the fear of moving on, because you believe, you have to believe, that surely nothing will ever hurt that much again, so why not risk it & seek joy again? And with a thick & scar-y heart, your brain convinces you that you’re brave enough to test the waters again, & it talks you into first putting in a toe & then a shin, until the next thing you know, you’re splashing around in the shallow end again, feeling, dare I say it, happy.  😊

Yes, Friday marks the 2-year anniversary of Jamey’s passing, but it also marks the day we three started a transformation of epic proportions. I only pray now that we will one day discover this metamorphosis, though painful, allowed us to emerge like a phoenix from a flame, ready to face the world, ready to face the future.  

RIP Jamey. You are loved & missed always, & we are so much better off for loving & having been loved by you. 

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Recovering with Community

So, I don’t know how many of you read my last post, but let me tell you, hysterectomy recovery is NO Joke. I will also share that I went into this with a LOT of trepidation. And I could NOT believe that I was facing such major surgery withOUT Jamey. But you know what, God provides!! I have been astounded at the kindness of friends & neighbors & of course my daughters, though my youngest complained last night that she misses when we “split” the task of rolling the trash can up & down the driveway. (“Split” 🤣🤣🤣 – ouch laughter hurts right now.) I did not ask for meals, or rides, or really assistance in anyway, because I kind of felt like I’ve used up all the goodwill one girl could ever ask for in her life when so many people helped us through cancer & then grief, but this is the South, & I live in the absolute most amazing community & help me they did! 3 of my friends, who also just so happen to live in my neighborhood, ALL brought me & my youngest the most delicious soups & soft burrito dinners, which is about all I could digest recently. I also have to give a shout out to my Sunday School friend who also brought soup & sat & visited with my bedrest bored self. (And now that travel soccer is over, I really do plan to start going to SS again. God has been nudging my heart.) And I can’t not also thank my dear, dear friend who stayed with me overnight in the hospital & helped me try & walk, ever so slowly, dragging my IV pole around in the middle of the night and who later drove over to bring me sexy & romantic things @ 11:00 PM like Metamucil & prunes. Yes, recovery ❤️‍🩹 is hard going, but God has again helped me walk, literally, through the kindness of others. It is humbling, & I am so very thankful, because I could not make it without so much divine support, & I am so thankful for my community.

Snuggled up in my reading nook with the bestest blanket from a friend.

But recovery has slowed me down, wayyyyy down. And if you know me, you know that’s hard to do. But with this time, I have been FINALLY working through an anatomy course that I have been putting off, but that I need to pass as part of my Pilates certification training, something I can’t actually practice for at least another 2 -4 weeks, grrrr. And in this forced upon me slower pace, I have allowed myself to just be, (& try to) listen, & pray. I’ve done a lot of talking to God lately, and to Jamey too. (And while I know God hears me, I’m not really sure Jamey does, though I’ve been talking to him too.) Yesterday was the year & half mark that Jamey’s been gone, & the girls & I have grown & morphed SOOOO much in that time, while still, amazingly, also stayed so much the same at our cores (thanks to our strong Pilates cores 🤣). I’d like to think they’d both be proud & encouraging, but I know there are totally a few choices that I’ve made where I can almost see Jamey with his arms crossed on his chest, lips tight, head cocked to the side, trying to think of the right words to say to make me reconsider something or other. But I also think he’d be impressed with how calmly, because I might have a penchant for the dramatic, I / we handled it when his beloved Jeep died, & we had to call AAA to save us. Life is a series of ups & downs, detours & setbacks, but I’m finding, while life doesn’t often go as I planned, God will walk with you & guide you around the next bend, if you let Him, and He is still doing so many good things & offering up so many good gifts to His children through the hands of people. And to all my people, THANK YOU!

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Hysterectomies & Colonoscopies

So, I know that I’m always evangelizing the importance of early detection and screenings via colonoscopies, but tonight I’m going to hop over to a different soapbox, but a soapbox that looks very similar to my colonoscopy box, but this one is about other screenings and other  early detection procedures. 

It was during a routine exam, almost a year ago, that it was discovered that I had pre-cancerous cells in my cervix and that my uterus was rather enlarged and filled with fibroids, and this is after I had an ablation procedure probably six years ago. While  not imminently life-threatening, though definitely annoying and uncomfortable and disruptive to life, I did not want those pre-cancerous cells to turn into cancer. My girls are already a parent down, so I feel even more compelled to take care of me now too. So, as a gift of love to my girls & of course to myself too, I went under the knife for a near total hysterectomy today. And while I will continue to preach the importance of colonoscopies, I wanted to take a moment to stress the importance of gynecological exams as well. Cervical cancer, I believe,  is the fourth most common cancer in women in the United States. So, while I lie in the hospital tonight,  dosed up on OxyContin and Toradol, with a belly all swollen up my like I’m 6 months preggers, and sore as all get out, I know I did the right thing, and not just the right thing for me, but the right thing for my girls too. Taking care of yourself & doing all the preventative things like mammograms, colonoscopies, gynecological & dermatology exams should not be luxuries you try to squeeze into your life. They should be more like changing the oil on your car every 3,000 miles, or  putting air in your tires, just regular maintenance for the human body, for it too is just a machine, albeit a glorious machine created by the All Mighty Himself, it is not indestructible. So, take care of it. If you don’t have some, go get yourself some good insurance, & do right by your body, for it is a temple for the Lord, & you only get the one.

Now I know we all just showered our loved ones with gifts and presents during Christmas and Hanukkah, but consider the greatest gift you can give to anyone whom you love or who loves you, is a clean bill of health, so you can be there for them long into the future. So make 2024 your year of health & preventative care.

O.K. Stepping down for now, & probably closing my eyes, for the pain meds make me sleepy. Also, I’m going to go ahead & blame all typos & run on sentences on my current dosed up state at St. Vincent’s hospital, and it’s St. Vincent’s not UAB, because I’m not sure I’ll ever be able step into UAB hospital again. (Trigger place for me for sure.)

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Blessed

Some may have noticed that I haven’t felt like writing recently. I think it might be because as Spring approaches, I too feel like I am getting stronger and finding joy more frequently, and I think it’s easier for me to write when I’m sad or despondent, and I haven’t felt as sad or as despondent lately, which is a good thing. That’s not to say I still don’t get sucker punched with tears. Like when our oldest attended her ball, & I realized that there were two seats saved for me & Jamey, not just one for me. Or when I held out stupid hope that perhaps Jamey had arranged for a dozen red roses 🌹 be delivered on Valentine’s Day before he passed, but later realized that of course he hadn’t. 

But at the same time, I feel God’s hand patting me on the back & pulling me into a comforting embrace ALL. THE. TIME. For though there were two seats saved, I had already agreed to volunteer to help behind the curtain with all the girls getting ready to walk out onto the stage. So instead, I was able to share those two seats with my daughter and one of her best friends. And likewise, though I didn’t receive a dozen red roses from Jamey, I did have a dear friend surprise me with beautiful pink roses, & my girls in turn brought me a dozen red roses & one of the sweetest cards EVER crediting me with being a role model that melted my heart into drippy tears. Plus I had texts & messages from friends near & far checking in & on me all throughout the day, & as God designed it, I was slammed @ work that day too, which was such a blessing. 

I do not take for granted any of those kindnesses. And as I hope all are aware, plans for a joyous and festive celebration of life are underway for Saturday, April 15. But let me tell you how blessed I feel about that: Wives are being widowed all day, every day, from colorectal cancer, from car wrecks, from suicide, from violence, from freak accidents, the list goes on and on, but how many of those widowed wives have a stellar group of people helping them plan a celebration of life for their deceased husband? I would guess not many. I honestly do not know how anyone would cope with widowhood without faith & family & friends & community, but that is because I have those things & those people, & I am so, so thankful. 

Yes, it’s hard going to soccer games without Jamey sitting on the sidelines with me, but how special is it that my brother in law now comes to games & helps me cheer my daughter on? So yes, there is still sadness in my heart. There will always be sadness in my heart, but I’m focusing on the blessings in my life & all the love being poured out on me. I’m also consciously ready to give back to other widows, to offer an ear, a smile, share a tear or a cup of tea. We are not meant to live in this world alone. We were designed for fellowship. God has loved me well, & I in turn hope to share His love with others whose hearts have been ripped open too. 

But in the meantime, I’m focused on preventing anyone, man, woman, or child from experiencing this kind of loss as a result of colorectal cancer. I am so thankful for the Hollingsworth Colorectal Cancer Awareness board for rallying behind me and supporting Jamey’s mission of awareness. We have so many good things in the works for the month of March, colorectal cancer awareness month. I’m thankful for the city of Mountain Brook for declaring March colorectal cancer awareness month. I’m thankful they agreed to light the city fountain blue as an awareness tool. I am thankful that we are launching the Light it Blue yard lantern campaign to raise awareness for early screening, and I’m really, really thankful that the board is helping plan a celebration of life during Jamey’s birthday month. Truly, I’m nearly speechless when I think about how blessed I am to have such a special a group of people who loved my husband, perhaps as much as me, but in different ways, who are helping plan a beautiful & joyous celebration of life. 

So in honor of Valentines Week, I’ll close by saying blessings & love are all around us, if we just open our hearts & eyes to feel & see it, because God is good all the time.

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6 Months

6 months. Jamey has been gone 6 months today. We lost him in the early hours of July 19th, though we didn’t know it until 7 AM, and now it is six months later, another J month, January 19. A lot can happen in 6 months. For reference, I could take you on a quick, & I mean quick, trip down memory lane & tell you about how we met, hung out, started dating, & got engaged in a mere 6 months, but then my word count for this post would far exceed the time you have to read a blog like this. I will say that some people were kind of shocked that Jamey pulled the trigger so quickly, but I was even further swept off my feet by the fact that he was so absolutely sure about me & about us that he didn’t / couldn’t wait. And truth be told, that’s kind of how those Hollingsworth boys used to roll. His father proposed to his mother after just 6 months, & he has two brothers who did the same, & all had/ have happy & long-lasting marriages. Plus, the speedy quick trigger worked for me too, because I’ve always been of the mindset, when you know you know, ya know? Now I get that philosophy is not for everyone, but it worked for us, & I so enjoyed the whirlwind romance. And it was for sure, one of the best 6-month periods of my life. 

A selfie pre smart phones, Dany & Jamey during our 1st 6 months together.

But fast forward to today, & I have to say these past 6 months have been way less fun, & there has been nothing quick about them. I’ve decided that there’s a loneliness that comes with widowhood that just sort of settles in your bones. I mean it’s not just about missing your person; it’s also about missing the person you were with your person. It’s about no longer feeling seen or understood. It’s about doing the day to day alone & not having anyone to really tell & share it all with. Did something even really happen in the day if you don’t retell the story to someone who really cares that evening? And believe me, teenagers are not the best listeners and mine are really not that interested in my stories. Sigh.

Now I’ve had bad break ups before; we all have I’d guess. And I’ve done all the silly broken up girl things: drive-bys with sorority sisters, orchestrated happen-chance encounters, & of course, pre-smart phones, the call ☎️ & hang up thing. I’ve sat around wondering 💭 might so and so be thinking about me too. So yes, I’ve played the part of the sad & dramatic girl who had been jilted by love before, but widowhood is different. Because the thing is with all of those theatrics, there is always at least a chance of getting back together. But once someone passes through the veil to heaven, there’s no amount of scheming a girl can pull off that can fan a flame 🔥 & rekindle the romance. 

Jamey is gone, & until I cross through the veil myself, we aren’t getting back together. That reality doesn’t get easier to accept, but rather it makes me forlorn & wistful, especially on a dismal & rainy day in January. 

While I’m thankful for my job, my girls, & my friends, I so miss talking to Jamey at the end of the day. I miss his encouragement, & I miss his jibes & even his utter disbelief when I recount some ridiculous story about how again I managed to get myself into some mess, that only I could get myself into. I miss his dry wit; I miss our long conversations about politics & the state of the world. I miss his counsel about the girls, & I miss the peace of knowing we were coming home to one another every single night that one of us wasn’t traveling for work. There’s so much comfort in the routine, & there’s something beyond precious & powerful about being a part of a whole, whereas today, I’m just a floundering part. 

So, I encourage you all to tell your person how loved they are. Give them a squeeze & be thankful for their warm body full of life & love. Overlook their shortcomings & be thankful for your present moment. 

I know that my grief will surely lessen, or at least I’ll learn how to carry it better with the continued passing of time. Truth be told, there are days now that I do feel like I’ve gotten a better grip on it, & it feels a bit lighter which makes room in my heart to also feel joy & love & laughter. But on anniversary days & special occasion days, it all feels heavier, darker, sadder, & lonelier. 

But also, on days like today, I try to find my peace with the Lord for as I read in one of my grief meditations:

“Let God be the source of your hope and joy. Believe these words of Jesus in John 16: “I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy” (v. 20). Jesus continued: “A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born, she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. “So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy” (vv. 21-22).

With that I’ll close and wait to see what the next 6 months does to make more room for healing & joy & love. 

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Grief & Squirrels

A cute and fuzzy distraction

*Disclaimer: I am neither a therapist, psychologist nor a psychiatrist. My only expertise about grief, is that I’m living through it. So, what I’m saying may not be helpful to anyone but myself, but this I know to be true; it’s working for me now, in this moment, but I can’t predict how it will feel in 6 months.

I have heard from well-intentioned friends, read online & been advised by many that a grieving widow should not make any big decisions for one year. One year. But one year can feel like a lifetime to just sit with an emotion. 

One of my daughters asked me during the end stages, hypothetically, ‘If Daddy passed, how long did I anticipate just lying in the bed being a zombie?’ I gave her my best guesstimate, which at the time I thought was a conservative estimate, but she was aghast that it would take me that long to pull it together. But for whatever it’s worth, I’ve not been a zombie this whole time. I don’t think life lets you zombie out. I don’t think I have ever had the luxury to just curl up in the fetal position and shut down. But in some ways, many ways, I think all of the responsibilities that keep you moving forward are a blessing. I mean who really wants to be a zombie anyway? And let me tell you from experience, just because you lose your husband, the world does not stop. Life goes on around you. Seasons come and go; children grow, & nobody’s waiting for a full year for me to sit on the bench & and then put me back in the game after a year.

But my personality is not a sit on the bench type of personality anyway. I am terrible @ waiting. I am a doer, and the grass rarely grows under my feet. 

But while grief has touched and changed just about every part of me, it has not changed that part of me; I guess it’s just who I am at my core.

Jamey used to always tease me about how I always acted like recipes were mere suggestions as opposed to directions that were meant to be followed. He was not wrong. And so, it should probably not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me, that I have not just been sitting and waiting and zombieing out for the last six months.

Now I haven’t done anything drastic. I haven’t moved away. I haven’t sold my home. I haven’t quit my job. I haven’t gotten a tattoo, & I haven’t run away from home. But I have done a few things. 

For one, The Hollingsworth Colorectal Cancer Awareness Foundation, & its 11 board members, have been busy, which has been such a blessing & a positive force in my life. It’s fueled me to actively feel like I’m saving somebody else from this sadness. As a board, we have plans in the works to submit a proposal to the state office to declare March Colorectal Cancer Awareness month. We have designs to apply for an application to produce personalized license plates in AL to help spread awareness about the need to get screened for colorectal cancer @ 45 versus 50. And as you probably know, I’ve kind of stepped into the role of colonoscopy queen 👸🏻 in my writings & in all of my interactions. And there are plans underway for a joyous celebration of life in the Spring. (Evite & information soon to be shared.)

But I’ve also contracted for some home renovations, for while I intend to stay in our home, I also feel the need to modify things, so it’s not a home frozen in time like a memorial, but a home representative of our new Family 2.0. The girls & I ventured across the border for Christmas in Cancun, & I hope to bring a new puppy into the family by the end of 2023. 

But while each of those individual items are noteworthy and awesome in and of themselves, the best part about all of them collectively is the distraction that they provide. They are all bright, & beautiful shiny objects that take my eyes off the pain. And I happen to think that for me, right now, distraction is the most blissful antidepressant medication that can be prescribed. 

So, I guess only time will tell if I’m making things worse for myself later, by not sitting still, but for right now, I am enjoying the distractions. I am enjoying looking away from the pain, & when I do allow things to settle down, I hope I will feel stronger & be stronger, & be proud of the path I’ve walked & the woman I’ve become. But if not, I’m sure there will be another bright & shiny object or cute & fuzzy squirrel 🐿️ to distract me

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Advent, a Season of Waiting 

A silver lining about trying to run & hide from grief leading up to Christmas is that I purposely did not over commit myself to the busyness of the season. I only minimally decorated; the girls kept their gift lists short, because of a small kitchen project, no baking took place, & I most definitely did not send out cards. While I don’t intend to always be such a grinch, it was really all I could muster this year. Next year I think / hope it’ll be, not easier, but maybe more joyous. Our oldest will be “home” from college, & that ‘change’ will make it more festive, & maybe motivate me to do more, though to be honest, I kind of like this less. 

In some ways, maybe a lot of ways, I’m realizing that much of what I used to do, not just at Christmas time, but a million big & small things daily, all year, every year, I did because I was trying to make things a certain way for my life with Jamey. Not that Jamey mandated things be this way or that way, but because I think I was always trying to embody this family / couple ideal that we shared. I did the things, but so did he. I guess that’s kind of part of the deal of sharing your life with someone. The two of you motivate each other & hopefully bring out the best in each other. And with Jamey gone, one, my best maybe long gone, & two, with we three now living as Family 2.0, I don’t think my former vision is at all attainable, & I need a new ideal / dream / model to shoot for, or then again, maybe I don’t. Maybe that’s the real change that’s stemming from this cosmic shift in our lives. Maybe I need to stop squeezing the reigns so tightly, & let life & God lead me organically to the next … (fill in the blank) & just trust His timing & His nudging, & wait. 

But oh, how in the words of one of my favs, Tom Petty, the waiting is the hardest part, & I’m soooo not a good waiter. I like having a goal in my mind to work towards, but in this stage of life, I feel like God is reshaping me for something ahead that I can’t see. It’s like I too am in a period of Advent, waiting for a different notable person to arrive. I am waiting for the new version of me to materialize.   I feel like He is actively sanding off some rough spots here & there, adding a bit more wet clay there & totally morphing me, preparing me, for the next. And while I don’t know what the next looks like, I am trying to lean on God & have faith. For though I’m tripping & stumbling every day, I do believe He has surrounded me with some of the kindest, sweetest friends to help me stay, maybe not in a lane, because maybe I’m supposed to be changing lanes, but to at least stay strong & to stay in the race.  Truly, friends are a blessing from heaven & make life so much easier to not only bear, but enjoy. 

     Numbers 11:17, “And I will take some of the Spirit that is on you and put it on them, and they shall bear the burden of the people with you, so that you may not bear it yourself alone.” 

But back to that whole waiting part. Waiting stinks. I’m a doer; I’m Martha vs Mary, & I’m so bad at waiting. But in this season of Advent, waiting on the celebration of Christmas and Jesus’ birth, I can’t help but think I too am waiting on the new me.  I am reminded that I need not dread the waiting, but rather I should be waiting in excited anticipation. I need to wait while savoring the present. Wait in peace & to trust His plan, His ideal, His dream, His vision & know that He has already carried me this far, He’s not about to just drop me now. So, wherever you are physically, emotionally, or spiritually this holiday season, I encourage us all to savor the waiting & trust that “When the time is right, I the Lord, will make it happen.” Isaiah 60:22

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Celebrities with CRC and Taking Out the Trash

You know how when you are focused on one thing, one thing that for whatever reason God has said you can’t have, or that you at least can’t have right now, all you can see everywhere you look is other people who have that thing? Like when your maternal clock ⏰ starts ticking (do men even have paternal clocks???) and you want a baby so badly that your teeth hurt, but for whatever reason another month goes by and you aren’t pregnant again, but THE ONLY people you EVER see are all the beautiful pregnant ladies of the world?? Or how, in my case, I seem to be surrounded by the cutest older couples around every bend walking & holding hands, literally, absolutely anyplace I ever go when I venture out of my house.  It’s like our minds just like to focus on whatever will torture our psyches the most. 

My dreams, my plans, of growing old with Jamey, puttering around & helping each other fill in the blanks to a shared story, or being this eccentric old couple rocking out at some concert we are much too old to attend, all went up in smoke with cancer. It seems so very unfair. But all the why’s & what ifs that keep me up at night are all asked in vain. But now I’m wondering, is it just me? Is it because I’m hyper focused on colon & colorectal cancer that I hear about it ALL the time?? Does it seem more common to anyone else but me?? I mean Kirstie Alley? Really? Rebecca from Cheers was a victim too? It’s insane! This is a preventable disease! But it’s also kind of a taboo one. No one likes to talk about the symptoms, everyone wants to, excuse the pun, poo poo, any oddities dealing with their bathroom habits, but you know what is even less fun to talk about? Dying! Dying is way less fun to talk about. It’s also way less fun talking about how your daughters no longer have their daddy to cheer them on & off the soccer ⚽️ field, or to watch them graduate high school, or to talk to them about boys, or to have their daddy talk to boys about treating them right, or way off into the future, how they won’t have their daddy to walk them down the aisle at their wedding.

I’ve heard there are 5 stages to grief, (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, & acceptance) but that you don’t really move through them in a linear line, you bounce around in and out of them like a person with attention deficit disorder. Well, I’ll share, up until recently, I don’t think I’ve really spent any time in the anger stage. Maybe I’ve been able to avoid it because my friends have loved me so well. But spoiler alert, I think I’m starting to dip my toes in that miserable pool of emotion. I’m angry. I’m angry that my husband, who always teased me about being a closet hypochondriac, didn’t do every single thing in his power to make sure he didn’t leave us alone. I’m angry that he didn’t even tell me anything was wrong for at least 6 months, because I know without a shadow of doubt, I would have Googled that mess & nagged until he literally got his toosh to the doctor. I’m angry that I’m alone. I’m angry that when I look at the trash can & think someone needs to take that outside, that it takes me a second to realize that someone is me. It’s all me. Everything falls on my shoulders all alone from now  until forever. I’m mad. I’m angry, & I’m sad. 

But the only thing I seem to be able to do with that anger is swing the fire 🔥 out of some kettle bells, yell at cars in traffic, & use it to fuel ⛽️ my message about getting screened. Yes, the prep stinks (actually quite literally 😂) but it is sooooo much better than the alternative. If you love someone, anyone, a person or a pet, or someone, anyone, again person or pet, loves you, GET SCREENED. Supposedly all signs are suggesting that by 2030 colorectal cancer will be the leading cause of cancer deaths for people under 50. Now by 2030 I’ll be fortunate if I’m still here, but by 2030 both of my two beautiful daughters, because now they have a family history, should have been screened a few times. But they wouldn’t be, nobody would be, if we didn’t talk about it & make it as common place as getting your annual physical or your twice a year dental 🦷 cleaning. I totally get that Heaven is going to be Agh-mazing, but those people & pets left behind sure would miss you here on earth. So if nothing else, don’t do it for you, do it for the love of someone else.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go take out the trash.

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12/4 – The anniversary of another one of the worst days of my life… 

So, I guess I’m figuring out, because I’m smart like that, some days are harder & more poignant than others. Obviously, Thanksgiving was particularly hard. I cried more that week than I had in maybe a month, & that made me feel guilty on top of sad. Guilty, because for the month prior, I had felt pretty O.K., even happy at times. But here we are at another significant day, but maybe only to me & me alone, December 4. 

It was a year ago today that I think I really started to realize my husband, my best friend, ‘my person’ who I bounced EVERY idea off (bless him for always listening), confessed every sin or social faux pas to, was freaking dying. I mean I “knew” the odds were against us before, but I had led such a Horatio Alger like life before, I truly believed we’d get the miracle I’d been praying for. I mean of course we would, right? Spoiler alert: We didn’t. I even tried to point out to God what was in it for Him, if He saved Jamey.

In prayer, I proposed that I, one who is rarely ever short for words, would go on a marketing campaign for God that would go kind of like me espousing His amazing & perfect gift of healing, so you too (person listening to my proposed marketing plan) must just keep the faith & keep believing, because God can save you too! Ha! As if God needed me to spread His miracle message!! The audacity of my dumb self-astounds even me, but still, it’s true. I thought that. But my ridiculous & small-minded project plans for ‘saving Jamey & spreading God’s miracle of healing message,’ were clearly NOT God’s plans, & it was on December 4, I started to come to terms with that. 

After a series of events that I don’t fully recall right now, but I could probably look back over our Caring Bridge posts to find (but I think rereading those right now would feel like a punch in the gut) I took Jamey to the ER for the first time during our cancer journey. (Believe me, it was NOT the 1st time I took Jamey to the ER in our marriage, as there were numerous ⚽️ injuries in our early years, Supper Club zip line escapades, & a bag of broken bones over the years that had him riding shot gun on the way to whatever the closest ER wa at the time. And the fact that he was in the passenger seat also spoke volumes to his health, as he always preferred to drive versus ride. Not sure if that speaks more to my driving skills or his need to be in control, but that’s the way it was. 😂) 

I remember calling one of my besties that morning to ask her where I should take him & if she concurred, we were ER worthy. Even calling her that morning broke my heart, because she answered all perky & happy thinking, I was going to ask her to go for a walk that day, not for an ER strategy, & then I hit her from left field & started sobbing into the phone. I remember Jamey putting up NO resistance to the idea of going to the ER, which was also particularly worrisome, because he was THE most stoic man I had ever met, & I expected him to balk at the idea. But what I remember even more, is Jamey not even being able to get out of the car to walk in under the portico, but instead he had to crawl to a bush to vomit 🤮from the intensity of the pain. I remember having to park in a kind of sketch spot & Jamey of course, having bigger more painful things on his mind, not noticing that I had to walk to & from said sketch location alone, & how that too was a dawning realization for me that I was losing my protector, my body guard. I remember realizing now, all I had got protection was God & His angels, and I wasn’t just thinking about that hospital visit, but for life. I was starting to realize that I was entering a new ‘alone’ phase that I really wasn’t all that familiar with.  But on December 4, 2021, when I had to walk back & forth to get things, (blanket, water bottle, pillow, etc.) from my car in the dark, on my own, I did so while quoting scripture in my head, my version of holy pepper spray. 

Next, I remember, that once he was discharged, he settled in to watch Alabama play (& beat GA 24 – 41,) while I tried to decorate our first ever artificial Christmas tree, because though I was fighting like hell to maintain some sort of normalcy for our girls, I did not have it in me to haul in & set up a real tree all by myself. And believe it or not, I remember pouring a strong drink that night & finishing it before one of Jamey’s oldest friends called me to check in. His innocent ‘how you doing?’ broke the damn of everything I’d been holding in for the last few month, & I let my tears & wails go. Later I learned that though I had holed myself up behind closed doors to talk to him, the whole family heard me sobbing & hollering in anguish, that ‘my husband was dying.’ Not my finest care partner moment, but alas, it happened. 

The next day I awoke with not only a pounding headache, but a phone call from the same bestie checking in on me, because Jamey had called her the night before to tell her I was cracking under the pressure, which led to an epic Rage Room girl’s night out. But oh what a freaking fateful & awful night December 4 was last year, & how even remembering it now, a year later, it still stings. 

But believe it or not, on this December 4, though we three Hollingsworth girls miss Jamey like mad, I am at least comforted knowing he is fully healed in heaven.  He was in sooo much pain, and so much discomfort, and things only got worse from 12/4.  I’ve said this before, but I still wish it: if only the dying process could be more like turning in your keys when your lease was up, & not all the pain &💩 suffering. Dying is so undignified, & it’s gut wrenching to watch a cherished loved one go through it. But again, as I’ve also said before, as awful and heart breaking as it was to walk alongside Jamey as he moved to the light, there was absolutely no other place I would have rather been than by his side. In a weird and twisted way, standing by him during that horrific journey, was truly one of the greatest privileges and honors of my life, no matter how much it hurt us both.