We remember each birthday with celebration, sending cards and giving gifts. Eating cake and ice cream. Having a party to mark we’re another year older; thankful for the gift of life. But how do we remember a death day? When someone departs this world, leaving loved ones behind. There’s no joyous party or celebration every year. It’s a somber, bittersweet day of remembering a loved one saying their final goodbye, that last embrace and tender kiss.
But in the sadness there’s also a sweet remembrance of who that person was, the cherished moments shared, and how very good it was.
October 10. Today is one year since my husband, Gary passed away. And October 26, three years since my Mother gone. There’s not one day I don’t think of them, and miss them. Anticipating this date, but not looking forward to it I decided to look through our family photos, and was surprised at the joy it brought me; to see, and recall the big and little, the ordinary and not so ordinary times of our life together. The word blessed can sometimes be over used, but truly Gary and I were blessed. In our marriage, in our friendship, in our sons; in the faith we shared. Gary and I not perfect people, but we were a perfect fit one to another. So this day, the day of my husbands passing, I celebrate him; the good, kind, fun, generous, hard working, faithful man he was. And am ever grateful for our many years together.
I love you for all eternity, Gary Dobbs. I carry you in my heart
Your Kathleen.
i know the words of Scripture, trust and believe. And i do. Believe. That God has a plan and purpose. Life. And death. Our souls in eternity. Still, like a spoiled child, i stomp my feet and pout wanting my Gary here with me. And my Mother, and brother. To hear Mom’s voice, like she used to do, telling me to take a deep breath, to be still and know that all will be well. And my husband with his confidence, and conviction giving me confidence, too. And my brother with his sweetness and easy laughter making me laugh.
For the first time in my life i live alone. Figuring things out on my own. But then i remember, except for God. He who is always near, and will see me through. Until one day, some day i will meet up again with those i love dear… and His great glory
September 4. Today would be my brother Walt’s 67th birthday, but I wonder how old he would be in Heaven? Is he ageless? Or forever young? Does he look like the carefree, happy fellow from days of his youth, or like the mature, handsome man he was when departing this earth at age 55?
Is he celebrating with saints and angels, and our beloved Mother, Lenora and my husband, Gary; with grandparents, aunts and uncles and cherished family friends gathered together in the celestial realm? Are there balloons and presents, or are such things only for this time and place?
Is he looking through Heaven’s window? and smiling to see his dear Dad, and all those who love him still. Remembering him, recalling the joy he brought into our life. I have a strong feeling the answer is yes; not only smiling, but loving us back.
I’m sure Heaven is lit up a little brighter today, and the Angelic choir in joyous harmony as they sing Happy Birthday to my little brother. And the gift he receives? The perfect gift of Eternal life; seeing the Savior face to face. Renewal. Restoration. Made whole. Reunion with those he loved, and who loved him. Like David of old, I picture Walt dancing for joy; and our sweet Mother and Gary rejoicing, and dancing with him.
** The original of this blog published September 2017. Since then both my Mother and husband have passed through Heaven’s door. This updated blog reflects that
We’re all different, every one of us; yet we’re the same. In wanting to be loved and cared for. Needed. To succeed in our life’s dream, Whatever it might be. A poet laureate. A Master Chef. The President. We’re all different, every one of us: yet the same. Longing for peace, and freedom to express our faith, and share love and friendship, and happy times with family and friends. We’re all different, everyone of us; yet the same. Created by the Creator; our souls longing for, pursuing, seeking the Heavenly realm. Even if unknown or not aware. We’re searching.
7.
The United States, and the world in chaos now. Strife. Confusion. Fear. Uncertainty. Loss of life from drive by shootings, and Covid. Illegal immigration, disgruntled citizens, and turmoil in Afghanistan. One wonders, where is leadership? And moral and righteous authority. A call for unity. Reminding us, a nation divided cannot stand, but only fall. To know our history, both good and bad is part of who we are, that through the ages we strive to grow and become a better people ; one for all and all for one. Recognizing in each other our Creators goodness and grace, no matter creed, religion or race.
John F. Kennedy said, Ask not what my country can do for me, but what can I do for my country? I say let’s stop bickering and fighting , and come together, work together in fellowship and unity. One nation under God . Let us individually, and collectively become the moral authority. To stand on higher ground.
God Bless America ! God Bless all nations with peace and harmony
Diana Rivers, and her husband Bill have been dear friends of mine for over half my life. After a long illness, Diana passed away July 31, 2021. My husband, Gary passed away not a year before, October 10, 2020.
With the death of our beloved spouses, Bill and I became members of a club neither one of us ever sought, or hoped to join - The Surviving Spouse club. Left lonely, sad, heavy hearted; having to accept, learning to adapt to that strange feeling of not having our lover, our partner, our soulmate near. The one who was so much a part of us, in the very sinew of our being. Whether death of a loved one comes suddenly, or lingers on, the shock, the sorrow, the sadness is the same. The grieving process is just that , a process to be worked through. Memories held dear wrap around us like a comforter while sitting in a favorite chair as we long to touch the hand, the face, embrace our loved one no longer here.
In an expression of grief, Bill wrote, and asked me to share his lament, It Wasn’t Suppose to End Like This. I do so now. …..
It wasn't suppose to end like this....I began dreaming, praying and meditating about how Diana and my journey together would end when we were first diagnosed with PSP 14 years ago and told we had but a few short years left. I could never believe that we would not be sitting on a perfect crescent shaped, sandy beach at Napili Bay on Maui, in our late eighties/early nineties, Mai Tai's in hand, laughing about all the crazy and wonderful adventures we had while watching the sun sink into the ocean between Lanai and Moloka'i, a 40 foot sloop disappearing around the point and us slipping away from one paradise to another, holding hands. This is how I always dreamed it would beIt wasn't suppose to end like this.
Rest In Peace dear Diana, eternal light shine upon you +
Body, soul, spirit. Seeking the eternal, but living life now in present time. Guided by everlasting light . And those who have gone before me. Wishing me well, to persevere and carry on , until we meet again in Heaven’s awesome glory
You seem to be doing well. Accepting, adapting, getting along. i smile. But inside i cringe and sigh. Thinking of the tears i shed alone day after day. Lonely. Lost. Still trying to find my way. Without the one i loved so intimately. The feel, and smell of him. The touch of his skin against mine. The sound of his voice; how I was his Kathleen , and he, my Gary Gene. Will I ever get over , be able to move on ? Without the love of my life , my perfect mate … No. Not on my own. Only with the help of dear family and friends who help me carry on
Over two hundred years ago it was Lewis and Clark and Sacajawea, and a man named Colter scouting an unmapped route through the wilderness , what we now know as Highway 12. But this past Thursday, Friday and Saturday it was Ella, Doreen and me - although I’m no guide. That would be Ella. Traveling to the east and west, to places named Pataha, Pomeroy, Peola ; then to Juliaetta, Kendrick, Deary and Elk River. Highway 12 to Highway 3 to Highway 8 . Not far away places, but places that seem far away. Little burgs and old towns; vintage and quaint with colorful histories and beautiful landscapes.
Pataha, home to the once famous flour mill founded in 1878 , closed in 1943, now operates as a nonprofit. The current owners maintain a museum in the mill , showcasing artifacts from the area . They also offer lunch and homemade pies. No set price, only a contribution from patrons. Believing God will provide.
Peola is no longer a populated community, more a region with Historical sites, i.e. noting the Peola Sawmill built in 1878 , so important to the community at that time . I discovered Walter James Fitzgerald , S.J. was born in Peola in 1883, and would become President of Gonzaga (Yes!That Gonzaga of Sweet 16 fame) from 1921 to 1927. Most endearing to me was the Peola Cemetery where Ella’s parents are buried. It is a peaceful place with lovely views of the Palouse and Steptoe Butte. Some of the gravestone’s date back to the Civil War period. Ella and I walked around the grounds, taking time to read names on the headstones, and pay our respects.
Kendrick’s downtown district is on the National Historical Registry. According to the Narrative , it represents a cohesive sense of of place and reflects Kendrick’s turn-of-the century twentieth century establishment and half century of commercial and community development. Contributing buildings date from 1904 to 1960.
By the time we got to Deary, population 455 , the three of us were hungry, and stopped at The Pie Safe & Kitchen . It didn’t take much discernment on our part to realize this was a popular spot with the long lines to order food, many folks driving from Moscow, and Orofino to have lunch. The little library across the street grabbed my attention, unfortunately was closed so I couldn’t visit.
Then off to our final destination, Elk River. The drive all along has been two way roads and gravel roads, and a wall of evergreens. Reminiscent of Gary, our youngest son and me living in Boundary County. Such a sweet time. North /North Central Idaho such a fabulous place with it’s Robin egg blue skies, white fluffy clouds, jutted mountain peaks, rivers, lakes and creeks. The majestic trees , and open space. Ella and her family have had their cabin in Elk River for many, many years. Rustic and rural, Elk River is a place for hikers, hunters, 4 wheelers, fishermen/women, and in the winter, snow machines and snow shoes. It has a City Hall, library, an air strip for small planes to land and take off, Tom’s Tavern and The Log Inn; The Log Inn our last stop before heading home . With the very friendly, fun spirited Sarah making us feel so welcome, and serving us a draft beer.
Ella’s husband, Jim , like Gary passed away from Alzheimer’s, two years prior. While at 108 I pondered, and reflected on Jim, and how he must have loved this place. And my Gary , and how he would have enjoyed visiting. Wishing they were still here. I found myself hoping Gary and Jim might become friends in the Heavenly realm , smiling down at Ella and me as we grow in our friendship, trying our best to carry on the dance, and find our way through.
** patahaflourmills.com
**kendrick-juliaetta.com
**Log Inn Elk River Idaho is on Facebook
Memorial Day Weekend. My brother, Walt passed away 11 years ago today - May 30, 2010. He was 55 yrs. old. Eleven years ago, my Mother and husband still here. Together we worked through the heartbreak; the sadness, the suddenness, the shock of losing Walt. A loss never to overcome, but to accept.
Walt was 4 years younger, and would eventually grow taller than me - but he would always be my little brother. One I doted on, protected (if anyone ever said a word I thought diminished Walt in any way, they would have my wrath to deal with), and loved. Walt and I not only siblings , but also good friends. A blessing to both of us.
Recently on Facebook I posted a slideshow my brother made from our Mother’s 70th birthday party. Walt captured the fun, happy time we had through the many photos, and music he compiled. It had tickled my brother I had been doing some weightlifting at Iron Mike’s , a gym near my home in Bonners Ferry. Ok, sis, he prompted me again and again, flex your muscles . Then he’d strike a pose to show me what to do. Like I was getting ready to compete for a national trophy in a muscle building contest. Mother and Gary and friends, Jim and Patty laughing in the background at our silly antics . It was that visit Walt and I straddled concrete deer in front of the drug store at Lewiston Mall. Making us laugh right out loud.
I miss my brother. And now my Mother and Gary, too. The sound of their voices, their happy laughter, us being together , and all we shared. Not just Memorial Day weekend, but every day all year through.
May 2. Nighttime. The day is over. It was my and Gary’s Wedding Anniversary today. Our first anniversary without him being here. I woke early. Laying in bed alone, missing my mate; I spoke aloud, hoping he could hear, Happy Anniversary, Gary Dobbs. My heart ached to hold him near.
I posted pictures from our Wedding on FaceBook .
Mass was celebrated in memory of Gary this morn. I listened to the Gospel readings, and Father Jeff’s Homily about the Holy Family; Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and how our Lord hears and answers our prayer. I closed my eyes and prayed I would know Gary’s presence this day in a special way. Even envisioning I would see my beloved , hear the sound of his voice when I returned home . Instead, it was dear friend, Jeanne calling. She asked if I would like to join her and Ella for a special event at Rivaura Winery this afternoon, and said she thought that’s what Gary would want me to do, be with friends , not sit home alone. Already teary eyed , I cried some more , but responded that I’d like to do that.
And it was a beautiful, peaceful, happy day. Rivaura Vineyard and Winery with its spectacular Idaho views overlooking the Clearwater River; and jutted, shaded escarpments reaching into the blue of the sky . Friend Glenda, and her husband joined us . Musicians softly playing their instruments, and the sweet fellowship of friendship filled the afternoon.
It’s only now I’m realizing I did know my husbands presence today, it was in every moment and movement. Beginning with Mass this morn, in Jeanne’s invitation , the camaraderie with friends. The beauty of the place. Gary was gentle on my mind, in my heart. My friends and I clinked our glasses together, a toast to him, and me; Happy Anniversary! It was just the kind of day, my Gary would enjoy.
*** Rivaura Estate Vineyards and Winery is located near Juliaetta, Idaho. If you like good wine, beautiful scenery and a charming, rural atmosphere, be sure to add Rivaura to your ‘go to’ list. Rivaura is family owned and operated. Their web site: rivaura.com
The party was to be the second surprise; the first was Walt flying in from St. Louis the day before. The pure joy, the happy surprise on Mom’s face when she opened the front door to see her son standing there is one of those precious moments never forgotten. Hi Mom, Walt said, and with his cute smile wrapped her in a warm embrace and lifted Mom right off the ground.
While I hadn’t met all of Mom’s friends, I had heard endearing stories from her about each of them. So for a second time in two days to witness the sheer delight on Mom’s face when she walked into The Helm to see so many of her friends there to celebrate her birthday was magical. She truly was surprised! Our long time family friend, Patty had flown in from Denver , and my son, Gavin was there, too. And our dear Jim. We had sworn him to secrecy. Garrett and family, living in California sent loving cards and notes. After The Helm, still feeling joyous and celebratory, the party spontaneously moved to Brenda’s home to see her gorgeous gardens, then caravanned to Jeanne’s River House with it’s beautiful view. Mom’s party was the first time I met Jeanne and Brenda. Through the years, and because of Mom I have been blessed in their continued friendship.
Walt, and Patty stayed on a few more days.
Much has changed since then. Jim passed away in 2008. Walt in 2010. My beloved Mother in 2018, and my darling Gary just this past October.
Today, I sit on the swing in Mother’s backyard reflecting on, and remembering that April of 2003 when our health was good, and life was fine and bright and merry, and how we laughed and played and danced and sang. We loved each other, and liked being together. We felt comfortable in one another being ourselves. No pretenses or airs. I think about how it was Mother’s birthday, but she was the gift. Always giving of herself to my brother and me, always letting us know how much we were loved; to Gary and her grandsons. To her friends, always an encouraging word and being present to them. I have tears. Tears of sadness at what I miss, but also tears of joy at what I had. And a grateful heart, giving thanks to God for my Mother being mine and the life we shared.
Happy Heavenly Birthday, Mom. I love you always.
*** After my brother returned home he compiled all his photos and chose four great songs for slideshow he made. Shown here below . Wonderful then, but especially so now. Each of us has a family story, special to us. I share a bit of mine with you now.
At Good Friday services today, Father Jeff, our pastor at Holy Family shared when he was a younger man how he pondered the question, if he had been at Jesus’ crucifixion would he have stayed like John, or because of the hostile crowd, become frightened, and run off along with many of Jesus’ disciples. That hit a nerve with me, and I ponder, too. Would I have stayed , or ran off ? I’d like to think I would have stayed. Drawing near to the cross of Christ. Crying. Looking at Jesus, trying to reach up, touching his bloodied, nailed feet. Calling out, Jesus, please don’t go, persevere. Praying ultimately to the Heavenly Father, for the release of Jesus’ pain. For his peaceful passing from this earth. No longer to suffer. Knowing I wouldn’t be there because of any bravery on my part, but because I wouldn’t want Jesus to leave me, to be left alone without him. To have to fend for myself. To be alone without His company and companionship , His unconditional love. Maybe that’s why God gives us the chance to care for others, our loved ones on this earth in their last moments - to help us see Jesus in them , and know, like Jesus, they are with us always.
I ponder too, something a dear friend messaged me the other day, I can only hope you have found your way without him. She was referring to my husband, Gary . I know she wrote with love and care, and I am so grateful. I read her words several times, and reflected how I would reply. Finding my way without him. I thought long and hard. Have I found my way without him? He, who was the other half of myself ? My anchor, and my sail. The one who grounded me , and also lifted me higher ; Helping me to be the better me.
Almost seven months he’s been gone. This man I loved with all my heart, this man I shared 45 years of my life with . Have I moved on ? No. I will never move on , leaving Gary behind. He will always be with me, forever and always . But, I am learning to adapt; to ‘carry on’ as my cousin Shauna encourages me to do. I am blessed in family and friends being present to me: listening to my silence, and my sadness. Reassuring and caring. Allowing me time. Theirs is a true, great gift of love. And for them my heart overflows.
My reflection, my pondering now turns to Easter, just a few days away. The risen Lord, the promise of eternal life and what it means. What is promised to those who believe. I think not only of my darling husband , but my beloved Mother and brother, Walt; my grandparents , aunts, uncles and dear friends gone from this earth. Renewed, restored, made whole in the Heavenly realm. And I am encouraged. Bolstered to persevere, yes, to carry on until some time, in God’s time, once again Gary and I will embrace like long lost lovers ; overjoyed. (and my dear mother, my brother , and all my loved ones gone before)
Because He has risen. Alleluia! Alleluia!
Happy Easter
Although the word widow(s) is mentioned 81 times in the Bible and I’ve read some of the passages Alan Walker (BD, Westminster Theological Seminary) references, i.e. this verse from Psalm 68:5 Fundamentally, God is the kind of God who keeps a careful eye on the widow. He is profoundly concerned for her, together with the stranger and the fatherless. He is righteous and protects them for he is “a father of the fatherless, a defender of widows ... in his holy habitation”. Widow is a word, an identification I don’t like. My husband of 45 years passed away four months ago. I still feel married to the man I shared so much with; my life, my forever love. Just this morning while at the Doctor’s office, and asked to update a form: Married. Single. Divorced. Widow. I couldn’t bring myself to check the W box.
I don’t want to be a widow. I want to be married. To my life long soulmate, my lover, my friend, the father of my children; I want the love, the companionship, the security, the joy of being Mrs. Gary G. Dobbs.
Earlier in the week my sweet friend, Ella, whose husband also passed away from Alzheimer’s texted me about two sites she thought helpful, providing understanding and a depth of insight to those of us who have lost a spouse, or loved one. The first is Teepa Snow. Teepa can be found on Facebook. For many years she has been recognized as a strong advocate for Dementia patients, and their caregivers. In this recent podcast Teepa suggests with the loss of our spouse/loved one, it’s not so much ‘stages’ we go through , but a state of grief we’re in. How do we move it forward , get to the point of acceptance. How shall we remember, celebrate in honor of. How do we move beyond the grieving, realizing it is never over, but coming to terms that a painful remembrance often leads to a joyful remembrance.
The second site Ella suggested is Widowhood Is More Than... by Alisha Bozarth (https://alishabozarth.com) . Although somewhat long, I share what Alisha writes as I believe it describes, paints a word picture of what is it to lose a beloved spouse, and may be helpful to others who are grieving. The loneliness, the agony, the despair. But also, ultimately of courage and even hope. I’m not there yet. But will always strive and do my best to make my darling husband, ( and I include my beloved Mother) proud of me. I will carry on, but always with a sadness and longing for him (them) not here .
“Widowhood is more than missing your spouse’s presence. It is adjusting to an alternate life. It is growing around a permanent amputation.
Widowhood is going to bed for the thousandth time, and still, the loneliness doesn’t feel normal. The empty bed a constant reminder. The night no longer brings intimacy and comfort, but the loudness of silence and the void of connection.
Widowhood is walking around the same house you have lived in for years and it no longer feeling like home. Because “home” incorporated a person. And they’re not there. Homesickness fills your heart and the knowledge that it will never return haunts you.
Widowhood is seeing all your dreams and plans you shared as a couple crumble around you. The painful process of searching for new dreams that include only you amount to climbing Mount Everest. And every small victory of creating new dreams for yourself includes a new shade of grief that their death propelled you to this path.
Widowhood is second guessing everything you thought you knew about yourself. Your life had molded together with another’s and without them you have to relearn all your likes, hobbies, fears, goals. The renaissance of a new person makes you proud and heartbroken simultaneously.
Widowhood is being a stranger in your own life. The unnerving feeling of watching yourself from outside your body, going through the motions of what was your life, but being detached from all of it. You don’t recognize yourself. Your previous life feels but a vapor long gone, like a mist of a dream you begin to wonder if it happened at all.
Widowhood is the irony of knowing if that one person was here to be your support, you would have the strength to grieve that one person. The thought twists and confuses you. If only they were here to hold you and talk to you, you’d have the tenacity to tackle this unwanted life. To tackle the arduous task of moving on without them.
Widowhood is missing the one person who could truly understand what is in your heart to share. The funny joke, the embarrassing incident, the fear compelling you or the frustration tempting you. To anyone else, you would have to explain, and that is too much effort, so you keep it to yourself. And the loneliness grows inside you.
Widowhood is struggling with identity. Who are you if not their spouse? What do you want to do if not the things you planned together? What brand do you want to buy if not the one you two shared for all those years? What is your purpose if the job of investing into your marriage is taken away? Who is my closest companion when my other half isn’t here?
Widowhood is feeling restless because you lost your home, identity, partner, lover, friend, playmate, travel companion, co-parent, security, and life. And you are drifting with an unknown destination.
Widowhood is living in a constant state of missing the most intimate relationship. No hand to hold. No body next to you. No partner to share your burden.
Widowhood is being alone in a crowd of people. Feeling sad even while you’re happy. Feeling guilty while you live. It is looking back while moving forward. It is being hungry but nothing sounding good. It is every special event turning bittersweet.
Yes. It is much more than simply missing their presence. It is becoming a new person, whether you want to or not. It is fighting every emotion mankind can feel at the very same moment and trying to function in life at the same time.
Widowhood is frailty. Widowhood is strength. Widowhood is darkness. Widowhood is rebirth.
Widowhood…..
is life changing."
Not a rebirth , or change I was seeking. Pretty happy and content with where I was at. But I think, and reflect on all those times widow mentioned in the Bible. And find some solace in knowing widows have a part in God’s plan, under His care. As with our dearly beloved He called from us, to their Heavenly home.
*** I love you , Gary Dobbs. Not just in this life, but through all eternity .
January 31, 2021
The night is quiet. Not late quite yet. Still three hours until midnight. I’m listening to Peter, Paul & Mary on the stereo. Earlier I talked with both my sons on the phone, so good they are about calling; and heard from my Dad and his wife, Susie. And Face Timed with Aunt Cheri. And cousins. I texted back and forth with life long friends. How grateful I am for them in my life. I always was, especially now when Gary no longer here, or my dear Mother. What would I do without them? Their faithful prayers, their presence, their support carrying me through during these, my sad, lonely days. For the first time in my life such a huge void and emptiness without my husband and mother near. Their sweet love and shining light to encourage, and brighten my way. I miss them so. But I know God threads the needle and weaves the fabric, a fabric strong that will stand the test of time; family and friends woven together for all eternity. Someday, one day joyfully together again
I give thanks for my family and friends, heart of my heart; an essential part of who I am
