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Cheers to 50 years!

I almost made it to age 50 without ever breaking a bone. When I think about it, that’s actually kind of a miracle because I’m really a klutz! At least I made it through my party before it happened!

I’m turning 50 on December 1st. I guess I like birthdays alright but I never really felt like I “had” to have a party. This is a milestone though and I wanted to think of a way to commemorate it. So I decided I wanted to spend it at Disneyland. I love Disneyland and Patrick really didn’t like it as much as I did. So I planned for Sierra and I to go with my friend Shelly and her daughter Abby. I made reservations and we were all set!

Then Sierra reminded me that she is taking the LSAT on December 2nd! So, going to Disneyland right before that? Probably not a good idea. So we had to move it back a week.

In the meantime we went to a Halloween party thrown by Pamela Henri. I get massages at her house and she has this awesome barn with a stage and all. An 80’s cover band played at the party and as I danced I decided that this was how I wanted to spend my birthday. I knew it was a little extravagant but I also knew it would be a blast. So I planned a 50th Birthday Bash!

Everyone felt bad that I was planning my own party but I enjoyed doing it. And honestly, everyone else did most of the work on the day of the party. We had Luna’s Italian food, an awesome dessert bar and plenty of beer and wine. I got semi dressed up and felt stylish in my high heels, which I don’t wear very often!

I danced the night away! And although I danced a little enthusiastically and might have taken my daughters down in a collision with the stage (and Pamela, who was singing), no one was injured! At the end of the night I was driven home and walked upstairs to take off my heels and put my not-so-stylish Croc slippers on. On the way back down my foot slipped and pain shot through my ankle. I was fairly drunk at the time so the fact that I felt any pain made me realize it was not good.

I put ice on it and wrapped it but didn’t get much sleep. I went to urgent care today and an X-ray confirmed that I had a fracture.

And of course I miss my physical therapist! Cathy took me to urgent care and picked up crutches for me afterward. She helped me get settled at home and Sierra will help me too. But it’s not the same. There’s no one else that I would ask to pull me up off the toilet or really any of the undignified things about being injured. I know he would have made jokes about it all but that’s part of the reason this makes me miss him! We got through many situations with humor!

I’m told that a break is an easier recuperation than a bad sprain so hopefully it won’t be too bad. And it’s not like there is any shortage of PTs among family and good friends, but I miss MY PT.

I am glad that it happened after the party. I had so much fun celebrating with family and friends! It made me so happy to be around so many people I love for a happy occasion! I have a lot to be thankful for! I’ll try to focus on that instead of my foot! Lol

PS. Here are a few toasts from the party!

Sierra’s Toast

Dawan, Denise, & Dad

Cathy’s Toast

Mom teNyenhuis

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Floorball

Yesterday I was on Facebook and noticed the Fresno Floorball Club’s post about their league championship game last night. I saw that Hand of Doom was in the championship and I was pretty sure my nephew, Connor, played on that team. I texted him to confirm and while I was waiting I looked through photos.

Patrick started playing floorball many years ago, probably 10 or more. He usually played every Tuesday. He would come home sore and tired and tell me how awful he was. He did seem to enjoy it. I went and watched him a handful of times and then I just didn’t. It’s one of those things I wish I had done more.

After Patrick died I found a post on the floorball page talking about losing him and it was very touching. I also heard from multiple sources that he was a great teammate and they loved playing with him. In typical Patrick style, he had downplayed his value to the team.

As I was looking through the photos I came across the group shot from his Team championship. I noticed that it was posted on April 15th and I realized that it could very well be that last photo that was ever taken while he was alive. (I suspect there might be other last photos and hopefully I will never have to see them). I walked in to show Sierra and her eyes teared up. I had thought all along that the concert photos were the last pictures.

As I thought about it more I remembered that his birthday was on a Wednesday, which meant that the 15th would have fallen on a Friday. Floorball games were on Tuesdays. I searched more and finally determined that the picture was taken on the 12th and was not the last picture. Then I felt bad for making Sierra cry. I realized that it might have been more upsetting because I thought the last picture was of him and the girls. I mentioned this to her and she said, “No mom, the last picture is him standing there copying the Paul McCartney poster.” I remembered the photo and I’ve posted it on here before. Here it is again. I think if he had to choose a last photo, this might have been the one. šŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚

I did end up going to the championship game. Patrick’s Team, Physiomotion, was playing for 3rd place when I arrived. I watched the end of their game and then said hello to a few of the guys. I didn’t know them that well but I was happy to meet them. Unfortunately Hand of Doom lost the championship but I was still glad I went. It’s always good to visit places where he spent time.

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I love my 80ā€™s music!

I wrote the post about the happy Timehop memory and literally the next three days of Facebook memories were all about the arrest and arraignment. Maybe that memory was there to prepare me for the not so nice ones?

Thatā€™s what always happens. Iā€™m going along thinking how good Iā€™m doing and then all of the sudden Iā€™m brought back to reality. Last night I went to a Halloween party with an 80ā€™s cover band. This particular party has been thrown for years and I got the feeling that most of the crowd knew each other. The hostess is the lead singer in a band and I imagine the crowd was probably people who regularly went up her shows over the years. Being there reminded me of the days we used to go and listen to live bands. Particularly the Sleestacks, which was the band that included Patrickā€™s friend Joe Reinartz, his cousin Damian Prandini, and friends Mike Niehoff and Ron (Doc) Morse. I had a blast being a groupie and was sad when the group broke up!  Joe was in other bands over the years and they were all good but we had the most fun with the Sleestacks. 

So I was already feeling a bit melancholy and then ā€œIā€™ll Melt With Youā€ came on. This wasnā€™t a meaningful song for us but it just made me think of that time and miss Patrick a little more. When the lead singer announced that the next song was by The Cure I just knew what song it would be and sure enough, it was ā€œJust Like Heavenā€, OUR song. I cursed to myself and then looked up and there was Sierra, smiling and motioning for me to come dance. Of course, she knew.

The rest of the night I had a pretty good time and wasnā€™t sad. My friend Linda was also there and we enjoyed dancing to all the old 80ā€™s songs! A year ago it would have been more sadness and less good time so there has definitely been progress. But I wonā€™t pretend that I donā€™t still have moments when I get overwhelmed by memories. 

Having Sierra home is definitely helpful. Although we have discovered that we occasionally get annoyed with each other. The other day she was feeling sick and made a comment about how it was making her grumpy. I said something like, ā€œOh, thatā€™s a temporary thing?ā€ She immediately gave me a dirty look but then started laughing. It was exactly the kind of thing her Dad would have said so I reached up toward heaven for a high five. Sarcasm and laughter are important in this house and Iā€™m determined to carry that forward!

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Timehop

Have you ever done the writing assignment where you take a random picture and write a story about it? This picture reminds me of that. To the casual observer itā€™s a pretty odd or random picture. I looked at it and thoughts just poured out of me.

I only recently downloaded the Timehop app. I regularly check Facebookā€™s ā€œOn This Dayā€ feature to see what I posted. Timehop checks all of your social media and your camera roll. This was just a random picture and you might wonder why I even took it. 

Obviously the original focus was on the dog. My sisterā€™s dog, Toby, has spent a lot of time here since she has had jobs that require her to travel. So I have a habit of sending her pictures when heā€™s being funny or cute. I saw the picture in my Timehop and started to scroll to the next picture before I noticed the rest of the picture.

Iā€™m sitting on my bed with one leg stretched out. I clearly have some sort of issue with my foot. You might think itā€™s sweet or affectionate that Patrick is rubbing my foot. But, if you look at his hands you will see the hands of a Physical Therapist. Heā€™s applying pressure and manipulating my foot. I donā€™t remember what was wrong, definitely something minor. He was probably just thrilled that he had to work on it, but he never said no. And, it wasnā€™t a tender foot rub Iā€™m sure! Sometimes his therapy was painful, but he was very good and he always fixed whatever issue I had. 

Toby thought he would just make himself comfortable right in the middle of this! Iā€™m sure I texted the picture to Denise to show her. And I usually donā€™t delete the Toby pictures so I managed to capture this random moment that has so much meaning to me!

This is what Love looks like! October 25, 2013 was a Friday. Iā€™m sure Patrick had worked all week and was ready to relax. But he took a few minutes to take away my pain. He might have grumbled but he always took care of me. I know I drove him crazy at times but he was always right there. This captures so many moments of my marriage and I am so glad that crazy little dog made this possible!

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Intertwined

Eighteen months and 4 days later and I still have outstanding tasks on the death paperwork list. You never realize how intertwined your lives are. I receive electronic statements on every account that offers them so I really donā€™t see the constant reminders in the mail. Things like bank accounts needed to be changed because he had one in his name only. You change the things like auto insurance, AAA, and Costco because it saves money, at least in theory. A few things were only in my name because I handled all of the bills. However, we always seem to make the husband the primary account holder and when this is the case you sometimes have to close the account. 

Today I called PG&E and it took me two minutes to take his name off the account. Such a huge task that I waited so long to do. I usually prefer to make the calls when Iā€™m alone. Not that Iā€™m doing anything secret but itā€™s kind of a sad task and I just donā€™t want to subject anyone else to this. Sometimes that canā€™t be avoided, like the time we were checking out at PetSmart and they pulled up our Pet Perks account and verified that it was in Patrickā€™s name (so I had them change it right then).

I previously mentioned the fiasco with our Amazon Rewards credit card and the fiasco that happened when I closed that account. When I called to close it there was a $72 balance and I paid it over the phone. Somehow it ended up being a credit so they sent a check to ā€œThe Estate of Patrick teNyenhuisā€. There is no estate because he had no will. So then you have to figure out what to do with the check. Luckily I asked my fellow widows and they said to just call and request a new check in my name. I finally did that today and it was as easy as they said. 

Iā€™m sure Patrick would laugh that it is so much work to get his name off things. He would find something like that funny. He would make a comment about it being hard to get rid of him. He would probably want me to emulate him when I made the phone calls and harass the people for no particular reason but I canā€™t bring myself to do that. 

So now Iā€™m down to only a handful of accounts. One is the home loan and they want copies of things, which is funny since the title is now in my name. One of my credit card companies once wanted paperwork to change my name. So, 24 years later, that credit card says Danell Boyles. Maybe I will get around to changing the home loan, or maybe not lol. Maybe I like having these outstanding items? Iā€™m in no rush. No matter what, he will always be a part of me. 

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Beer and a soak

In the last 18 months there have been multiple times I have had people come by to get estimates or do various types of work in the house are yard. I always try to be careful and not announce that I am a widow. Most of the time itā€™s really difficult to avoid. They will start asking me questions about the type of motor or how old something is. I answer the questions that I can but there is always this awkwardness where I imagine them wondering why I know so little and inevitably I tell them. And I always feel on the verge of tears when I do. Itā€™s just a combination of frustration that I donā€™t know what Iā€™m doing and, of course, sadness because of the reason. 

Yesterday I called someone about having the jacuzzi removed. We probably havenā€™t used it in a year or more but I left it turned on, even though it was almost empty. Iā€™m probably lucky it didnā€™t burn up or something. I knew I should deal with it but I just didnā€™t have the will to do it. Iā€™m sure part of it was sentimental. 


When we moved in there was a gazebo in the corner of the yard. You can see it in the picture above. It was somewhat flimsy, I know thereā€™s a name to describe the style but I never remember these things, Patrick would know… Anyway, our friend Dave Cruce was doing real estate and he had a seller who needed to get rid of a jacuzzi. We paid to have it craned in and it was ours. Daveā€™s fee was lifetime use of the jacuzzi, swimsuits optional. šŸ¤£ Thank god Shelly keeps him in line and he never took advantage of that privilege! Patrick planned the ultimate jacuzzi hideaway and enlisted our brother-in-law, Jeff Young, to build a roof on top of the gazebo structure. This required four large logs as support. Multiple relatives were enlisted to lay concrete, get the electricity ready and build the roof. When it was done the term gazebo was no longer worthy. The new structure was a cross between the Parthenon and a gazebo so we called it a Parthebo! 

When it was finished it became one of Patrickā€™s favorite places to wind down. Joe Reinartz (his ā€œonlyā€ friend), had an old TV that he put out there. It was never hooked up to the satellite but he would watch whatever he could find on network TV. The girls and I used it occasionally and it got a lot of use during parties, but he used it the most. I couldnā€™t find a picture with him using it so hereā€™s one from a party. 


He liked to invite his brothers and mine, cousins, and friends over for ā€œa soakā€. He didnā€™t even mention the beer, that was a given. Eventually he decided to give them a standing invitation to come over on the first Friday of each month. He loved First Fridays. Iā€™m sure there were many corny jokes told and memories shared. For the first year after he died we had First Friday get togethers for family and friends and we will probably have more so that we can continue his tradition. 

Patrick had been talking for some time about getting rid of the jacuzzi. He and Matt had decided they could cut it up with chainsaws and move it out in pieces. He always joked that he was going to turn the Parthebo into a small apartment and he would move there when ā€œDanell gets sick of meā€. As if that would have ever happened!

I debated keeping the jacuzzi but realistically I need less complicated things to take care of! So I called the guy and he looked at it and said he could have it out in about 30 minutes. Patrick would have been amazed that two guys took it out with no chainsaws and only one furniture dolly! So, another chapter closes and I have one less thing to worry about but a lot of great memories! 

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One half of a whole

As I walked my dog a few days ago, I found myself checking my left hand for my ring. Iā€™m sure many of you do the same thing. I wore that ring for 26 years or so and Iā€™m not sure how long it will take to get used to not wearing it. My first thought was maybe I should just put it back on? And I imagined how comfortable and reassuring it would feel. But I realize that it is not the ring I am missing. I miss being one half of a whole. I miss my other half and I miss everything that he meant.

I try not to be a helpless female. I want to be independent and handle things myself. But there are just so many decisions to make and things to do. Perhaps if I had been single all this time I would be more accustomed to finding someone to fix the fence or clean the solar panels. The funny thing is, I know that all I need to do is pick up the phone and make a few calls. Really itā€™s more of just a mental block, that and just the fact that I know I would not have to worry about it if Patrick were around. And itā€™s another thing I was blissfully unaware of when he was.

Iā€™ve kind of been in a funk. And yeah, it may have something to do with the whole dating thing! LOL I really do not like doing this. And I donā€™t really want to write about it but it IS a big part of my story. So Iā€™ll give you the watered down version. I donā€™t want to be like Taylor Swift and write about every ex…WAIT! Maybe I do! Just kidding! There may be guys out there who, like me, are single despite being capable of being in a relationship. Maybe they are also widowed, or truly never met the right person. But I suspect a lot of them have issues that make relationships difficult. I kind of dated a guy for a few weeks. I say ā€œkind ofā€ because I only really saw him twice. Iā€™m truly not sure of what the issue was but he just could not seem to find room in his life to date. I think he wanted to and he seemed to be interested but he was so used to being alone that he just couldnā€™t figure out how to share his time. I was convinced that I was going to use my years of experience and teach him how to make it work. And I actually experienced quite a bit of frustration when plans were canceled or never made. We agreed mutually that it wasnā€™t going to work out.

Iā€™ve talked to a few other guys casually and a few nights ago I realized that I was already thinking of how I was going to ā€œfixā€ a guy to get used to finding time to date someone. Iā€™m sure this has a lot to do with my counseling courses but either way I need to stop it now. At this age Iā€™m not going to change someone so I just need to be patient and find someone who doesnā€™t need to be changed. 

And now Iā€™m sick with my usual sinus thing that will probably turn into bronchitis. And I hate being sick because it interferes with working out. But it has made me realize that there is no reason to rush this dating thing. If the right person is out there, it will happen. So Iā€™m taking some NyQuil and trying to get some rest!

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And sheā€™s off on a new adventure!

In a few days I will be dropping Camille off at UC Davis. I knew the summer would fly by and it has. Iā€™m kind of avoiding all of the feelings I have about this. I know we will all be okay and sheā€™s going to have a great time but itā€™s hard letting go of my youngest!

I love both of my girls equally. They are alike in many ways but also different. Sierra was fiercely independent. I know she missed us and we missed her but she was excited to experience college. When we dropped her off I was honestly just really excited for her.

With Camille itā€™s a little different and a lot of it has to do with the change in circumstances. Camille and I have been together since Patrick died. Initially it was just us that day. And when Sierra left for school last year it was just Camille and I for the entire school year. So, I think that makes it harder to let her go. Make no mistake though, she will thrive in college and I know she will make me extremely proud!

I canā€™t even begin to tell you how grateful I am that Sierra will be home with me for another year. We will get to have that time together just like Camille and I did. Eventually they will both be gone but having this extra year is going to make it easier for me.

I just realized that today is the 22nd. I completely missed the 20th. Every month I have thought about how many months it has been. But I didnā€™t think about 17 months. I think that is a good sign! And I think Patrick would agree.

Iā€™m adding pictures that Cathy arranged for the girls to take as a surprise for me. They make me so proud!

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Personal Triumph

I’m on Day 4 of a weight loss challenge at the gym. I’m doing it right this time and following the meal plan in addition to working out so I’m counting on big results!

I stayed up too late last night for various reasons but I went to the gym this morning for kick boxing. Normally I stay for a core session but I was tired and the fans in the gym were not working so I just did one class.

I felt a little guilty when I got home so I took the dog for a walk. She is small so we just went a mile at a slow pace. I was listening to music and my “grief anthem” came on, “Ordinary World” by Duran Duran. Part of the lyrics are, “I won’t cry for yesterday, there’s an ordinary world, somehow I have to find. And as I try to find my way, to this ordinary world, I will learn to survive”. The first time I really listened to these words, a few days after Patrick died, I desperately wanted ordinary. At the time it seemed like nothing would ever be ordinary again but those words gave me hope.

Listening to the song this morning I realized that what I really wanted to do was ride my bike. But I hadn’t done that in over a year…

Patrick and the girls got me a mountain bike for Mother’s Day, 2008. I thought I would ride bikes with them but I ended up going for solo rides after work and working up to 17 miles at a time. I loved it so much that I decided to join Team in Training and train for a Century bike ride. I started with a loaner bike but purchased my own road bike before the actual event. Patrick was skeptical I’m sure but he supported me, coming out to repair flats and provide first aid supplies when I fell while learning how to clip out. I finished my first century in Solvang that year and went on to do 3 or 4 more plus various other rides that were shorter. Cycling is a great workout but when you are mainly doing endurance rides, and you’re me, you think that after a 60 mile training ride you can eat whatever you want. So I was never really able to lose weight and keep it off. I switched to walking and it helped me take off a lot but I was gaining it back. And then April 20th happened.

Patrick rode his bike out Shaw Avenue and did a few laps around Quail Lakes at least a few days each week. If I rode from home I always went down Shaw too, it was my favorite route. He was riding it that morning when he was hit and killed.

That day I wanted to throw my bike in the street. I got over that but then I avoided cycling to protect the girls. I rode in the Ride of Silence a month after he died but honestly I was still in shock then. I just wasn’t sure I could ever really do it again. And if I did, where would I ride? Shaw Avenue was ruined for me.

Today I decided to take my favorite route back. Cycling did not kill Patrick. A lack of sleep caused by a meth binge did. I could give up cycling to keep myself safe but if we gave up everything that could possibly kill us, how would we ever live? I put all my cycling gear on and inflated my tires We do love our gear! Then I realized I didn’t have my Road ID on. I almost went without it but I remembered how mad I was that he did not wear his as it caused an hours long delay in receiving official notification. I went and got it and realized that my first contact was still my husband. There are always reminders.

As I waited at the traffic light I remembered how frequently Patrick disregarded cycling rules and etiquette. That morning I was also a little angry because I was convinced he did something stupid. Later I was extremely grateful when the detective told me that Patrick did nothing wrong.

I wasn’t sure how I would react as I drove past the site. I have driven past a handful of times when I really needed an outlet for my grief. And I would scream and cry as I did that. Cycling is different though. Having the wind in my face was peaceful and I imagined him on his final ride. I’m sure he was thinking about mundane things or planning his day at work. I believe that he never knew what happened and it was quick and painless. I said a prayer and told him I loved him as I rode by. I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream. And then I turned at the next street and rode home. Mission accomplished.

I feel like a weight has been lifted. I know that he would not have wanted me to give up cycling or avoid that stretch of the road. He would have thought it was silly. I’m not sure how much I will ride now. I love my gym workouts and I love the strength they have given me. But I needed the ability to cycle and I needed my favorite route back. Now, the sky’s the limit!

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Grief is just a place I visit

I’m fairly certain that this title is something someone else said, I’m just not that original. Regardless of who coined the phrase, I really like it. Grief really is just a place I visit, I don’t live there.

I was recently talking about the day that Patrick died, with someone who hadn’t heard the story. This is a little bit unusual for me, in fact, I can’t remember the last time it happened. I really don’t mind talking about it. I’m not sure if that is good, bad, or neither but I think it might even be part of the grieving process to revisit it once in a while. The person I was talking to seemed to be worried that I would be too upset and thought he saw my eyes tearing up. I didn’t feel like I was going to cry. I made it through that day by keeping grief at a distance and for me, that has been a workable solution. I was able to get through the story with no problem.

I’m not saying keeping grief at a distance works for everyone. For some people, that might not be a healthy solution, but it works for me. And each time I tell the story I remember little things that I was grateful for and also just the wonder and the sense that I only made it through that day because Patrick and God were watching over me. I took things in little doses. Some were a bit strong but I didn’t feel like I was hitting a brick wall. Some of the memories are a little tougher than others but each time I feel them, it gets a little easier.

I know so many people who have lost someone in the last few years and it’s amazing how we all find our own way to get through it. At times I have felt that I have not been able to support people as much as I had hoped and I’ve tried to figure out why that is. Earlier today I posted my blog from the five-month mark. In it, I mentioned the Widows Hope Facebook group that frightened me early on. I think the reason is that I have never been able to imagine myself living in Grief. I can visit but I prefer to visit Hope, Laughter, and Love. I can handle being in those places. Occasionally I stop by Struggle, Loneliness, and Doubt, but those are brief visits too. I’m not saying that this is the only way to survive. I guess the only advice I can give is to try to give yourself a break from the grief. You can visit every day but keep your visits brief.

One of my favorite places to visit is Laughter. I think I made this clear to people early on. Living with Sierra and Camille has helped. They share their father’s sense of humor and it has gotten us through many difficult times. One of our favorite things to do as a family was to visit thrift shops in San Luis Obispo and occasionally in town. Patrick liked to be a miser and he actually bought his work clothes at thrift shops. I think his employees knew this without even being told šŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚šŸ˜‚. He also liked to find little treasures there and the girls loved finding clothes. I usually bought books or odd household items. A short time before he died the three of them went thrifting and decided to have a contest. They could each spend $5 and I had to judge whose item was the “Most Awesome”.

The girls bought clothing so their presentation involved coming down the stairs wearing their purchases and working hard to sell them. Camille was first and she came downstairs in this ridiculous gauzy pantsuit with patches sewn on. Clearly it was supposed to be some sort of uniform. The funny thing was that I imagined it was originally just a pantsuit. She strutted down the stairs then jumped off and pointed at the suit. As she later said, the suit spoke for itself and words weren’t required.

Sierra was next. She is also really funny and has a background in Speech and Debate as well as Mock Trial and Moot Court. So she is very persuasive! She strutted down and twirled in the most ridiculous t-shirt I have ever seen. She said that she loved that someone put in the effort to display their love of frogs by cutting out a panel and carefully sewing it into the t-shirt. Then they decided it would be a little bit more awesome to keep that extra part, cut it into fringe and add beads. I was dying at this point!

Patrick went last because he knew his would be the most awesome. He bought one of those apple parer/corer/slicers. He gave an elaborate presentation on the virtues of this handy kitchen tool. I don’t eat a ton of apples but I could see the appeal in having them so easily prepared to eat. I deemed it a good purchase but Sierra was my hands down winner. I’m not sure he ever forgave me for not choosing him! šŸ˜‰

The Friday after Patrick died, Amy and the kids arrived from Nebraska (Dan arrived a little earlier), and Dawan and Tom made it home from Europe. So, the house was packed and we were all very sad. I remembered the thrift store contest and asked the girls to recreate the presentation. That was the first time our house had been filled with laughter since the nightmare began and it was awesome. After the presentation the girls shared other stories about their dad and it was exactly what we all needed. We had been grieving a bit too much and we needed a laughter break.

Like I said, Grief is a place I visit. It’s not my favorite place to go but it’s not all bad. There are good memories there as well as painful ones. And sometimes I do get a little bottled up and I need to visit Grief to let it all out. I have no trouble finding my way there but I always make it back home. If you ever have to visit, try not to stay too long.