“Today, March 26, 2024, the moon is 16 days old and is entering the waning gibbous phase of its lunar cycle. It is 98% illuminated.” — Space.com

This morning I stepped out the back door and came face to face with the moon.

It was around 5:30 a.m. The moon appeared full-ish tho’ my awareness was fuzzy. Is she waxing or waning?

She is waning, having shown her full moon attire this past Saturday when I was in a full flurry of indoor activity that evening. I was not prepared for her monthly entrance, having been otherwise engaged.

This is me.

Time has been a bit of a trickster for me for as long as I can remember. Call it the distraction of introversion or call it absent-mindedness, my inclination (when not held to the fire of the demands of schedule) is to stroll through my life rather than move at a steady jog, clipboard in hand.

This is relevant as I move toward the third anniversary of the death of my beloved husband, Dan Neff.

On this day, with the moon just 16 days old, the anniversary of Dan’s death is 21 days away. As with the moon, I wonder; how is it here already?

At 21 days pre-death, in 2021, the 24/7 caregivers known as our entire family were wondering if he would outlast us. On this day three years ago, I glimpsed, in my mind, an image of all of us laid out on the ground around him from sheer exhaustion. He was not sleeping; he was falling; he was eating and not eating; but my man was ever on the move. How could we keep going when it seemed that despite his body’s breakdown he stayed the course? Living beyond reason, as he did so well his entire life.

How could he, the youngest of three children, survive being born at just 4 pounds into an overwhelmed family, drowning in the seas of the disease of alcoholism?

How could he, as an 8 yr-old boy, overcome the limitations of dyslexia in 1958 when the general population diagnosed reading problems as a “will not” rather than a “cannot”?

How could he, at age 39, endure a future of two heart attacks, two open heart surgeries, dozens of angiograms and plasties, COPD, and Mantle Cell Lymphoma, and still live to see his 71st birthday before leaving the planet?

Unlike a doctor, who writes about the cause of death, I write about the Cause of Life in the case of Dan Neff. How could he endure a life of both great love and great physical suffering? I believe that . . .

Love kept him alive.

Is this true? I have no proof except for his existence which some would attribute to the luck of the Irish.

Perhaps.

However, living life with him brings me to the strong, non-scientific conclusion that he loved us beyond reason and continued to live because he could not find it in him to leave. His unique path in life. His unique story.

“The calendar is a keeper of memories, which means that in life after loss, dates on the calendar can pack a punch. It could be a wedding anniversary or the anniversary of meeting for the first time, or the first date, or the day you were engaged. Or it could be the often-dreaded anniversary of the death of your spouse.”  From Life Reconstructed, by Teresa Amaral Beshwate, MPH

You could say that my anniversary snuck up on me this year. My family made it possible for me to attend numerous Camp Widows after Dan passed. At each camp, I kept choosing the wrong “time of loss” ribbon. Time is surreal.

Year Three squeezed in unnoticed. I knew it was coming, but how did it arrive so soon? I planned a date to go with a friend to see a beloved author. I remembering saying, “Oh…that’s Dan’s anniversary….well, that’s probably a good way to spend the day.”  Later, I asked myself, “Now—what was the date we planned to go see Annie Lamott?”

“The date on the calendar is a fact, or circumstance . . . The fact is the date on the calendar. We have a thought about the date on the calendar, and that thought produces a feeling. The date on the calendar does not directly make us feel any feeling. It is our thought about the date on the calendar that produces a feeling.” From Life Reconstructed, by Teresa Amaral Beshwate, MPH

Since my friend and I are staying at my daughter’s home in La Jolla, reasonably close to the venue where we’ll see Annie, I suggested to Danielle that we have a pancake breakfast celebration because Dan loved making pancakes. “Yes!” she said. “Let’s have a pancake breakfast in his honor!”

I plan to go to the cemetery the day before our trip and make sure the grave is clean and shiny for his Year 3 honoring. Perhaps we’ll top off by picking a day that the kiddos and I can head to Ancho’s, Dan’s favorite Mexican restaurant, which is just seven minutes from the cemetery.

A great book I’ve recently been exploring (by the amazing Teresa Beshwate!) gives five tips to navigate anniversaries. I’ve added my experience in the in-between, as I move toward April 15th:

• “In the weeks leading up to the date, notice whether you feel dread, anticipation, or anxiety. These feelings, like all feelings, come from thoughts. So, go to the source: What thoughts are causing these feelings? And are those thoughts useful?”

Another “first” for me is the quiet, long approach to Year 3’s Anniversary. This “new” feeling of “here we are once again” still holds some disbelief about time. It also holds a bit more practical peace since his burial stone, which took so long to be completed, is finally finished.

It feels like after the intentional work during six Camp Widows, and the processing of my loss through 153 blog posts, that a rhythm is setting in. Since future is not yet written, time will tell. Still, I will be tracking my thoughts and feelings before, during, and after April 15th..

 

• “On the anniversary, monitor your thoughts by journaling, and note how each thought makes you feel. Remember that thoughts are optional and decide which thoughts you want to keep or delete.”

The inner life of a true introvert manifests as an inner journal with unlimited pages of thoughts, feelings, fears, dreams, disappointments, and plans. Tracking my day can be likened to breathing, so I will move closely into my feelings on April 15th and explore what greets me on the 1,095 day since we stood in the driveway of our home when they came to take his body; where I, and our children, said goodbye.

The experiences of my life also show up on the page in my writing—especially here. I am tasked with sharing my story and writing it down each week. The Soaring Spirits blog has made all the difference for me.

 

• “Be willing to allow and fully experience the mix of difficult and positive emotions. Process your feelings using the steps in *chapter 3.” (*p.32, Activating the superpower of processing emotions.)

Grief is a wiley, sly, and tricky creature. Grief does not ask our permission to dress up and steal the stage of our life, as if it is a permanent fixture. We, the griever, learn to outwit grief with time. We cannot “manage” it completely. Widows & widowers ten or fifteen years out can witness to the way grief can surprise us when we are least expecting it.

But, processing our emotions is Grief 101; a stepping stone to finding our way through one of the hardest things humans experience in their time on planet earth—the loss of our person.

 

• “Plan to take good care of yourself. What would be good for your soul?”

Please ask this question daily. Please bring compassion and love for yourself (with WILD abandon) every.single.day.of.your.life.

“Follow your bliss.
If you do follow your bliss,
you put yourself on a kind of track
that has been there all the while waiting for you,
and the life you ought to be living
is the one you are living.
When you can see that,
you begin to meet people
who are in the field of your bliss,
and they open the doors to you.

I say, follow your bliss and don’t be afraid,
and doors will open
where you didn’t know they were going to be.
If you follow your bliss,
doors will open for you that wouldn’t have opened for anyone else.”
― Joseph Campbell

 

• “Honor the day in some way, whether through a random act of kindness or a donation to his favorite charity.”

In my personality of Mess is Best, the free spirit in my soul resists doing just one thing every year. I know, I know . . . this falls in direct opposition to tradition. However, for me, I find that Spontaneity = Life.

The tradition, for me, is remembering the year and the day itself. The practical circumstances of my life dictate the way “the day” will look for me. Some will be the quiet normal that I so appreciate. Other days of remembering will be epic. The best word to describe this year’s plans is “nuanced.”

There is truly just One Way to honor the special and important moments that matter to you: “Your Way.”

Be You.

Keep the healing going by doing the hard work of noticing feelings, determining and giving yourself what you need, and letting go of angst bit by bit.

Keep Going, my friends.

I am hoping our paths cross along the journey of grief. XO

 

All quotes are from Teresa’s book, Life Reconstructed: A Widow’s Guide to Coping with Grief, Finding Happiness Again and Rebuilding Your Life. An Amazon #1 Bestseller! Kudos, Teresa! xo