They say that loss and grief bring about a variety of feelings in stages. I am not much of a believer in stages, per se, but I can attest to the fact that the Emotional Roller Coaster you ride during a significant loss is very real and if you are not careful, it can consume you.
I would have to say that for the first several weeks I was still in shock, however, there were very real times where my heart physically ached and all I could do was cry. It was even hard to catch my breath at times. The only way I could explain it was that my heart hurt, and I didn’t think anything could stop it from hurting. Every time I walked by her room, came home from work, drove by our favorite places, heard our favorite songs, watched our favorite TV shows…there was a pit in my stomach and a hole in my heart.
There are times where I would find myself bursting into tears for no apparent reason, but I was told that was “normal” after such a significant loss. There were also times where I would find myself smiling or even laughing when I would remember something or do something we found enjoyable or funny. As roommates, and best friends, we would clean the apartment every Sunday to the movie Mama Mia and at times just be silly. For the first three months, I just couldn’t bring myself to do that as it was too painful and reminded me of the friend that was no longer with me. Then something changed…the movie was on TV one evening so I decided to watch it. I did not cry, but I laughed and I remembered us laughing at it together and just enjoying it.
There were so many things we wanted to do together – cruise Alaska, go to Europe (especially Paris), travel the states, go to Hawaii, go the Caribbean, get her photography business up and running, etc. The fact that I won’t be able to share any of these hopes and dreams with my best friend, angers me. I am told this also “normal”. I can’t say that have spent too much time being angry, but I do have my moments, when I consider the unfairness of it all…both for her and for those of us who loved her.
I didn’t really go into denial, and I think that is because we started grieving the diagnosis when received in 2009. We knew this was coming, we just hoped it wouldn’t have come so soon. For me, taking care of her every day, and seeing the progression of disease didn’t allow me to be in denial, and I am grateful for this. It is by no means an easy journey to help someone die peacefully, gracefully, and with dignity, but I truly would not change it for the world.
I write this post as I am riding in my dad's car coming back from Telluride, Colorado. To get there and back, the majority of the route is the same that Tami and I used to drive when we went to Utah to visit her daughter. Each familiar sight, restaurant, hotel...and each song that played reminded me of our road trips together and I began to cry as I looked out the window. The pain of the loss is still there, and I imagine will be for a long time.
I think I can say that I have found many moments of joy and peace in the midst of the loss, pain, and anger. I believe that I was able to do this with the help of some really great friends and family, as well as my faith in my almighty God who never gives us more than we can handle and who has a plan bigger than our little worldview can see. That plan clearly included hosting a 5K Race in Irvine in November with Get Your Rear In Gear to raise awareness for colon cancer education and screening, as well as starting a Non-Profit called the TamiS Colon Cancer Foundation which will use Tami’s talents of photography and writing and provide tools to other cancer patients and their families. Eventually it will include an in-home service/ministry called “How do you pack for this journey” where we will help patients and families with the practical things as well as end of life coaching. Tami’s legacy will live on and will touch many because of who she was. I know I am a different, better person for having known her and taken care of her.
