Category: Grief

I have started this blog about a million times but I always end up just leaving it in my drafts.

It’s a little embarrassing and totally depressing but it is my new reality…. ONLINE DATING!

UGH!

I used to think that “kids” had it so easy nowadays. They could just go online, scroll through pics, swipe left or swipe right and find a date. You could literally SEE and find out about a date BEFORE you meet him.

No more blind dates.

How easy is that?

Not easy AT ALL! It is literally impossible, depressing and somewhat degrading.

Here’s how it goes (for those of you who are lucky enough to avoid it):

• You post your profile. (Make sure the pictures are amazing but that they actually give a true image of you. Don’t want to catfish!)
• You answer questions about yourself trying to sound witty, smart, sensitive and not too desperate.
• Once you’ve finally decided your profile kind of represents who you are, it’s time to scroll through pics of men. You can “like” or skip. Everyone’s pictures should tell you a little about who they are. For some reason, the men think they need to post a picture with a fish, a workout pic and if you are lucky, a shirtless pic! Sometimes, they post pics with a group of men so you have NO CLUE which guy you are looking at. That’s fun…let’s play Where’s Waldo!

Then you are kind of “frozen” in online dating hell because in order to actually interact with any of your “likes” you have to subscribe to that dating site.

So then, there is the “which dating site do I invest in” question.. Cause there are about a gazillion… And you really don’t want to waste any of your paycheck on dating websites.

Shouldn’t a friend have a friend they can set you up with? Don’t 50% of marriages end up in divorce? Where are all of the single folks hiding out?

Once you finally resign to the fact that you truly have to put a little money into this “hobby” you pick a site and start to “match” with men.

Here’s where the real fun begins. (Sarcasm inserted)

I am a 53 year old woman. I grew up in the day where men actually asked you on a date, picked you up and they PAID for the meal and maybe even brought you flowers!

I’m not sure about this “Would you like to meet for coffee or a drink?” First of all, I can’t drink coffee after 3pm if I ever want to sleep at night (again 53 year old woman) and if I’m meeting you for a drink, I can’t really drive…. So, I kind of need to EAT to drink… Unfortunately, eating isn’t part of the first date protocol!

Once you get past the initial chatting on the dating website of choice, you might actually exchange phone numbers so you can…

TEXT SOME MORE..

What the heck happened to actually TALKING on the phone?

We have all now learned how to hide behind texting!

I’ve now become the person who is a nervous wreck about talking! At least with texting, I always come up with a witty response and I never have to worry about saying the wrong thing.

You can actually spend an eternity texting and never actually meet a potential match!

I think I may truly have some text boyfriends right now. Not a bad gig… just text every once in awhile. No commitment. Just a little comic relief.

If you do actually make it to the “in person” stage. There are a whole lot of new rules to follow!

I have actually had a few dates but I have been admonished for my innocence.

Coworkers, friends and family warned me that with my belief in the good of mankind, I was going to end up missing or dead in a ditch!

I actually agreed to have a potential date pick me up to go on a date!

I was told that in no uncertain terms, could I accept a ride from a date I met online!

My old fashioned ways are really not in tune with this new world!

I am fairly new to this online dating sport and the longer I am part of it, the more I feel as if it’s not really for me.

I’m thinking I am going to have to believe that my prince charming will somehow magically just come knocking on my door….

Or maybe I need to try some of this manifesting stuff everyone is talking about…

Anybody out there know how to manifest a man?

Who knows, maybe I can manifest the perfect mate?

As a teacher, you are often gifted plants and flowers.
While I enjoy plants and flowers, I know that I don’t have a green thumb.

I often have a great deal of trepidation when I receive a beautiful plant because I know, in the end, I will probably not be the best plant mama.

A few years ago, I received a hanging plant. I brought it home and hoped that I would be able to get at least one leaf to flow over the edge of the pot.

Fast forward several months…I was overjoyed that it was actually doing really well. I couldn’t believe the leaves had actually grown down to the floor!

How had I suddenly become a plant guru?

Then, I discovered that Steve had secretly, been taking care of the plant. He always left for work before me and he was watering and tending to what had become “his” plant.

So, in actuality, I wasn’t responsible at all for the success of this plant. It had become Steve’s pet project and it was doing phenomenal.

Until, I stepped in.

As many of you know, the weather in Chicago is unpredictable. Sometimes, I am a bit impulsive. I was excited that the weather had finally begun to warm up!

I decided it was time for this plant to go outside and get some real sunlight.

At this point, I knew Steve had been tending to “his” plant but I thought I was doing a good deed. Putting it outside would only help, right?

OOPS! The weather changed and I kind of forgot about my plant friend.

Steve, however, did not forget. He went outside and brought the now dead plant indoors.

Needless to say, after all of his efforts to keep this plant alive, he was less than pleased. Let’s just say he had a few choice words for me and my less than green thumb.

But, he was determined to bring this plant back to life.

And it worked!

It took his time and patience (I was a little smarter this time and stayed the heck away for “his” plant.) but it was back to its beauty within months!

I was amazed at how this seemingly dead plant was brought back to life with attention and the right life sustaining elements (INDOOR sunlight and water)

When Steve passed away, I decided I couldn’t keep this plant because I knew if I killed it again, it would have an entirely different feeling.

I wouldn’t be able to giggle and say “I’m sorry” and have Steve bring it back to life.

So, I handed Steve’s plant off to my sister in law Jackie. Who, then, probably feeling it was too much weight and responsibility, handed it off to my mother in law.

I didn’t realize the plant had taken this trek. But this plant had obviously taken on a very important role in our family.

I went to my mother in law’s house several weeks ago for dinner.

As we ate, I noticed there was a GORGEOUS, healthy plant in the corner of her dining room. I immediately recognized it as “Steve’s plant”.

We talked a little about the history of the plant and I was encouraged to bring it back home

But, I knew I couldn’t do that because, again, this wasn’t just any plant, it was “Steve’s plant”.

It holds a special place in all of our hearts and it took a village to help this plant thrive.

So, Steve’s plant remains in my mother in law’s home and it has taught me a great deal about life…

• Sometimes, you have to hit rock bottom to come back as your best self.
• Don’t try to rush things. Make sure the time is right before you make a big change.
• In life, you might not always be the right person for the job and it’s okay to step back and hand over that responsibility.
• With the right surroundings, good people and healthy choices, you CAN and WILL thrive.
• Perhaps, most importantly, even when things look really dismal, insurmountable and overwhelming, don’t give up.

I have begun to look at life a little differently since Steve has passed away and I have learned that sometimes, it takes something as silly as a plant, to show you that although it might take a little bit of effort and the right village behind you, everything will be okay…

When Steve passed away, I literally went into “Marci Time” overdrive.

I needed to take care of every issue in our house ASAP. Many of these projects had needed to be done for years. I decided they needed to done right away.

The first job I tackled was waterproofing our basement. I left no stone unturned. If the waterproofing company suggested it, I did it. There was no way water was getting into my basement.

Next, I added can lighting throughout the house. Of course, when you add can lighting, you have to repaint…

Yet, I still wasn’t done because I discovered our chimney was falling down and because our chimney was falling down, I discovered my roof was deteriorating…

Oh, and I mustn’t forget my rusting out garage doors which also needed to be replaced.

And wait, let’s add mice to the whole project because I really needed just one more thing to put me over the edge.

We had NEVER had a mouse in this house in all of the 21 years we lived here and yet, I woke up one morning and literally chased a mouse down my hallway.

No clue what I thought I would do if I caught that mouse, but at 2 in the morning, chasing it just seemed to make sense. Perhaps I was returning to my childhood memories of Tom and Jerry….

Then, I thought it was a good idea to tenderize chicken breasts on my glass stovetop. Who would have thought that using a wooden mallet on a glass stovetop would cause it to shatter? So, yep, I then needed a new stovetop.

Last but not least, I came home to my glass shower door shattered all over my bathroom!

So within the year and a half after Steve had passed away, my house had become a never ending project.

And those projects kept me busy. Those projects kept me from facing my sadness.

As I look back, I realize that while I was busy fixing everything OUTSIDE of me, I didn’t have to face what was going on INSIDE of me.

If I just filled my time with “stuff” I didn’t have to face my grief. If I had to stop, and listen to the silence, it was devastating.

I have to admit, it still kind of is.

But, I know I am so much stronger now.

I have learned how to take care of so many things OUTSIDE of me. And I am not minimizing that accomplishment.

But I spent a whole lot of time staying busy so I could ignore what was going on INSIDE of me.

Since things have slowed down, and I am now facing year 2 of being a widow, I need to take a look inside of me.

This has not been easy.

I’ve spent a lot of time listening to podcasts, talking to my therapist and really trying to figure out what happiness looks like for me.

I am often told how strong I am for tackling all of the challenges that have come my way.

I admit, I have taken on a lot of things that were thrown at me with strength, determination and resilience.

But I now think I spent so much time rebuilding my surroundings because I COULD control and accomplish those tasks.

It is much more difficult to control and change my mindset.

I am NOT strong when it comes to controlling my mindset. People say you can choose to be happy and focus on the positive but sometimes, when so much has happened in your life, the happy things are hard to find.

So, I haven’t written in awhile because I’ve really been trying to find myself and my happiness. I am determined to acknowledge my worth and to find my happily ever after.

I originally started writing this blog while Steve was battling Covid. I never imagined it would become a tool to help me heal but it really has.

This blog entry really came about because I looked in the window well in my basement. My basement that I spent thousands of dollars waterproofing. I paid for brand new, custom fitted window wells with special durable window well covers and they even added soil to make sure nothing leaked.

In spite of all of this waterproofing, there is now a large plant growing inside of this custom built waterproof window well! I couldn’t help but ask myself, how the heck did this plant grow, in spite of all of the effort put in to keep water out?

And then it dawned on me. If this plant could find a way to grow in spite of all of the efforts made to keep water out of the window well, then I can find a way to be happy and grow in spite of the adversity that has been thrown my way.

Strength needs to come from within and I cannot just take on projects and constantly be “on the go” so that I don’t have to face my fears.

Being present and still is so very hard for me. But I know it holds importance in my grief journey.

I still try to keep busy and fill my days with people and projects but I have come to realize I need to stop and listen to my heart so that I can continue to grow in spite of difficult circumstances.

I am a work in progress.

Some days are much harder than others, but if that plant can find a way to get what it needs in order to grow and thrive, I most certainly can do the same.

Today was one of those days that I was faced with the reality that my life has truly changed.

It seems as if some of our everyday moments, ones where you don’t really “think” about what you’re doing, are the moments that can catch you off guard and take your breath away.

I had a podiatrist appointment today. It is the same podiatrist I have gone to for several years but, today, they had me as a new patient.

That meant new patient paperwork. New patient paperwork is always tedious, never any fun and somewhat heart wrenching if you are a widow.

First of all, they asked me to define myself with a title.

Here were my choices:

Miss

Mrs.

Dr.

Mr.

I’m not 25, so I’m not a Miss…

I’m not technically married, so I’m not truly a Mrs.

I was super tempted to go with Dr., but that would be a stretch.

Then there was Mr..

Why is it that men don’t really have a title that indicates whether they are married or single? Straightforward. No emotional ties to their “title”. (Sorry, that was a bit of a tangent.)

Anyhow, that whole conundrum made me take pause and accept my reality as I struggled to define who I am by choosing a “title”.

Next, I had to name an Emergency Contact. My sister is now my Emergency Contact. But once again, this section was a reminder that I am a widow.

These papers got my head spinning and put my anxiety into overdrive, as I sat there hoping that my foot just required a quick fix and that I wouldn’t need any intensive treatment.

Worry set in…

What if I needed surgery?

Who was going to take care of me if I needed recovery time?

And then there was the section that asked my marital status and I had to write widow. It’s always hard to write that word.

But, I am a widow….

So, filling out these simple new patient papers in the Dr.’s waiting room, nearly brought me to tears.

AND I wasn’t even a new patient!

The staff and Dr. apologized for their error in entering me as a new patient.

But they had no clue about all of the emotions I experienced while filling out the paperwork.

Today, I was able to recognize and feel the sadness without giving into my grief. So while, it was hard for me to fill the papers out, I was still able to hand them to the receptionist without breaking into tears.

I wasn’t always able to do this.

I know that I am becoming stronger because I can now recognize and sit with my grief without letting it take over.

It is not easy to do this and there are definitely moments when I can’t hold it together and I HAVE to cry and give into my sadness.

But those moments are fewer and farther between.

I’ll be honest, when I DO give into my grief, it is not pretty.

It is often loud and super ugly but it clears my head and I can then move forward.

Filling out those papers today was sad.

But I did it and it really doesn’t matter if I am a Miss or Mrs.

I am Marci Schor.

No title needed.

My sister is amazing! I don’t think she realizes how many times she has brought me back from the edge.

We talk everyday and my life would be incomplete without her.

When I am feeling overwhelmed or lost, I turn to her.

When I am celebrating a success, I share it with her.

Recently, my sister said something to me that has really grounded me.

I told her a story about making a new acquaintance at a dinner date. This woman was truly just trying to get to know me.

Of course, she brought up Covid. She asked if I had ever had Covid. The table went silent and everyone froze, as I calmly answered, “yes”.

Then, she said, “Well, you seem to have faired pretty well with it” (again, a silent table because everyone except this woman knew my story). I took a deep breath and said, “yes” (As a million different responses ran through my brain.)

I took 2 things from this dinner date:

1. I was finally able to answer that question with composure and no longer needed to leave the table when Covid came into the conversation.
2. I was astounded by the fact that no one had told this woman my story.

So, I called my sister to share my pride in being able to answer the question and my disappointment with the fact that this woman wasn’t “warned” about my history.

And my sister said, “Isn’t that wonderful that they didn’t feel the need to share that information about you? That Steve’s death doesn’t define you and it is just part of your story?”

And those words completely changed how I feel. It became my mantra: Losing Steve does NOT define us, it is just part of our story.

Tomorrow, April 10th, would have been Steve’s 60th birthday.

Our family is now faced with another milestone. It is difficult to believe that he has been gone for 2 birthdays.

And in spite of the fact that we have become stronger and more resilient, we are struggling with this reality.

We have talked about how we should face his birthday.

Both of my children have plans to fill their day.

I am so comforted and proud that their lives are going on in spite of this tremendous loss.

But I also know their hearts are heavy and full of anxiety. I know that they will enjoy spending time with friends, but they will be fully aware of the small dark cloud overhead.

Grief is so difficult.

It would be so wonderful if grief were finite.

You could know that in 1 year you could just put it in a box in the closet and only open it when necessary.

But grief is way more complex than that.

It is infinite.

It is always in the back of your mind, waiting to come to the surface. There are times (like birthdays and anniversaries) that you know you will have to face it and times when it sneaks up on you and forces you to crumble.

But, what we truly need to remember is that grief does not define us.

It is just part of our story.

Losing Steve has changed my story.

His loss has taught me that life is short and unpredictable.

We need to seize the day and live our best lives.

We can’t wait to go on vacations.

We can’t wait to tell people how much we love them.

We can’t wait to make our home a place that feels warm and safe.

We can’t choose not to do things because we are worried about what others will think or say.

We can’t work so many hours that it leaves no time for doing the things we enjoy.

I am working on living my best life and not letting Steve’s death define me.

I am encouraging and hopeful that Jared and Shelby can do the same thing.

His death has broken our hearts and changed our family but it has also made us stronger and helped us realize that life can not be taken for granted.

Spend time with those you love and do the things that fill your heart with joy.

Loss does not define you…. it is just part of your story.

**Thank you Staci. I love you.

While much of the time right after Steve passed away is a blur, one of my clearest memories is the intense fear of not having a “number one”.

Those were my exact words, “I don’t have a number one anymore.” I would literally repeat those words over and over to my sister.

I no longer had a person who had my back or looked out for me first.

I was terrified to face life alone.

I was nobody’s priority.

Those first few weeks, I spent most of my time in bed, just staring off into space.

I wasn’t ready to face my future.

Those of you that know me, know that I basically never sit still. But I just couldn’t motivate to do anything.

I couldn’t even focus on watching tv or reading a book.

I stopped eating.

I stopped working out.

I basically stopped living.

I am not proud of how far I dove into my sadness.

I was obsessed with what the students at school would call me. Was I still Mrs. Schor? Or was I now Ms. Schor?

When I went back to work, I literally could not write Mrs. Schor on the top of my papers when I was modeling name writing for my kindergartners.

I forgot that there was more to me than being a wife.

It took me awhile to decide that I needed to get back to living.

Steve’s death is our reality. I cannot change that, but I CAN make sure that we still have wonderful life experiences.

One of my most significant lessons has been that life is completely unpredictable and that we should try to take risks and do the things that we really love to do.

I gave Steve a gift card for a massage several years ago. He kept telling me that he was going to use it. But work and life just kept getting in the way so it just sat in his drawer.

We even laughed at the fact that the massage place might no longer be in business by the time he tried to get his massage.

He never got his massage.

It is still somewhere in a drawer.

I so wish he had gotten that massage and that we had traveled more and had gone to more plays and concerts.

It is heartbreaking to know how much life Steve missed out on.

So it is my job to make sure that my little pod of 3 lives life to its fullest.

I want my kids to take risks, and do things that fill their souls.

While a massage itself seems insignificant, it opened my eyes to how fragile life is.

While I was aware of life’s fragility, I struggled with showing my happiness.

I worried about what others would think if they heard me laugh or saw me enjoying my life.

I dare even say, at times, I hid my joy.

But then, I was in our school office one day and I made a typical snarky Marci comment to our secretaries.

Later that day, a friend told me that after I left, one of the secretaries had smiled and said, “I think we have our Marci back.”

That one small comment filled my heart.

I realized people wanted “me” back.

While some people might have thought I should still be in mourning, I now knew others were cheering me onto recovery.

Seize the day sounds cheesy but it is so very powerful to take control of your life, be with the people you love and do the things that fill your soul.

My family has taken a journey that no family should have to take but I can proudly say that we have done it with grace, strength and dignity.

I have learned that I don’t need a “number one”.

I AM MY NUMBER ONE.

If you are struggling with grief, grant yourself grace in the process but don’t live in that space of sadness for too long.

Do the things you love and be with the people that build you up.

The people who love you will be cheering you on and if there are people judging your return to life, they don’t deserve a minute of your life.

BE YOUR NUMBER ONE.

I love to read. For awhile, I wasn’t reading for enjoyment because I really couldn’t “slow down”, relax or be in The Quiet. Those of you that truly know me, know that even before this all happened, I was not one to slow down and relax. I am so glad that I can once again, sit down and read.

I just finished reading The Last Thing He Told Me. I found this quote in the book (which was a really good book by the way) and it really made me stop and think.

“When the world gets quiet again, it will take everything I am not to allow the grief of his loss to level me”.

I vaguely remember the first few weeks after Steve passed away. I know that I basically stayed in my bed unless I had visitors or the kids were home. I’m not even sure what I was doing all day but I just couldn’t do much of anything. The world had stopped for me as I tried to get myself to live again.

Friends visited and were so worried because I was showered and dressed and even doing laundry, but I was an empty shell. I was going through the motions but was truly absent in my life.

I will say, going back to work was what brought me back to the land of the living. I remember people telling me that it might be too soon and that I probably needed more time. But I knew that if I stayed at home in bed, in The Quiet, any longer, I might stay in my sadness forever.

Being back in school, in my safe place was where I needed to be. My school family and my students reminded me that I was still valuable and that I had a purpose in my life.

Once I picked myself up, the race was on. I needed to be busy ALL OF THE TIME. When I say busy, that doesn’t mean social plans or going out. That just means doing something, whether it be organizing, working or going to the grocery store, I didn’t want to stop and experience The Quiet. I couldn’t even really watch tv very well. Sometimes, I would even find myself just walking in circles in my home.

To others, I looked great. I was back to work and started eating again. But, I was still lost and avoiding The Quiet.

Visitors stopped and life returned to a somewhat more “normal” place so it was time to face The Quiet.

The Quiet was not my friend. My therapist told me that I needed to train myself to be okay with being alone and in The Quiet.

But at 53, I’m pretty sure that my personality is set in place and I’m not an “alone” person. I love being with others. I even try to make my kids go to the grocery store with me so that I don’t have to go alone. I sometimes say it’s because I am a middle child and I always had a sibling nearby, but I’m pretty certain that I made that up. It’s just who I am. I like to be with people.

Recently, I have had to face The Quiet more. I can honestly say, some days being in The Quiet is okay. But other days, it is terrifying. When both of my children are out and it’s just me, my dogs and my thoughts, I have to remind myself that I will be okay and that although this life isn’t what I had pictured for myself, I’m doing pretty well and that I have joy in my life once again.

Somedays, The Quiet still brings me to tears but that Quiet that I have spent so long avoiding, has given me the opportunity to get to know who I truly am. I am still scared of my future but I am also proud of all that I have accomplished.

I still question why this has been my fate but I also know that this has brought out a strength in me that I never knew existed.

So if you are out there, grieving and unable to face The Quiet, give it some time. When you are finally able to face The Quiet, grant yourself grace in knowing that The Quiet can be terrifying but it might also be where you find your strength.

If you have been following my blog, you know that we have now passed the year mark. According to Judaism, I have now completed the ritualistic time frame for mourning.

That there is a time frame, in and of itself, seems ridiculous.

But in some ways, it is a bit freeing.

Throughout this journey, I have had many moments filled with tears and despair.

But, I have also had moments of laughter, gratefulness and joy. And sometimes, during those moments of happiness, I stop and feel a little bit guilty.

I wonder what others might think if they hear me laughing and smiling.

I know I shouldn’t care what others think. And I also know that those that truly love me are happy to see a twinkle in my eye.

I’m also pretty sure people are happy to hear my snarky sense of humor once again.

In a way, I’m glad that there is an “accepted” time frame for grieving so I can stop second guessing myself.

I have also heard that the second year is somehow more challenging than the first.

The first year you are just surviving.

The next year you must learn how to thrive.

Everyone tells you, “The firsts are the hardest. You just need to get through the firsts.”

But, once you get through the firsts, you are kind of on your own. Life moves on for everyone else and you are still fighting your demons and trying to find your way.

According to common beliefs, a year is really all you should need for mourning.

It’s a little bit terrifying.

These past few days, I have learned how truly blessed I am and that maybe my second year won’t be so challenging.

Although my obligational year of mourning has passed, people have proven that they have not forgotten about our little family of three.

When my shower door shattered, I was a little bit overwhelmed with the mess it created and the daunting task of buying and installing a new door.

To my surprise, loved ones and friends volunteered to clean up the mess, help pick up the door and INSTALL it!

When I woke up to snow this morning, I was dreading the thought of shoveling.

Within minutes, I received a text from one of my best friends letting me know her husband would be over in a few minutes to take care of my driveway!

As I sat in my bedroom, I could simultaneously hear someone shoveling and someone plowing. To my surprise, TWO people had come to take care of the snow for me!

It literally brought me to tears. I was overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude.

I don’t know what I did to deserve this wonderful treatment but I do not take it for granted.

I know there are many other people out there who have lost a loved one and they are facing these challenges alone.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like to take this journey without help. No matter how much time passes, I will always need my tribe of friends and family.

If you follow my blog, and you are feeling alone, I want to invite you to reach out to me. That may sound weird, but I truly mean it. I am here. Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on.

If you are reading my blog and you are lucky to not be dealing with grief or loss right now, take a moment to reach out to someone you know who might need a friendly voice or gesture.

One tiny good deed could have a tremendous impact on someone in need.

I know that today, I felt so incredibly loved and supported. I am so very grateful.

I hope that I can do the same for others.

No one should be dealing with loss or sadness alone.

There should be no time frame for providing grace and support to those who have lost someone they love.

Yesterday, I came home to a shattered glass door.

My shower door shattered while no one was home.

No one knocked into the glass.

Nothing hit the door.

It just shattered..

How does a shower door just suddenly implode and end up in a million little pieces all over the entire bathroom?

I just stood in the doorway not knowing where to even begin. I kid you not, there were MILLIONS of little square pieces of glass.

I know that a year ago, I would have ended up in a puddle of tears on the floor not knowing what to do.

But yesterday, I shook my head, took pictures and sent them to my friends and family.

I knew I needed help and I also just couldn’t keep this craziness to myself.

And instead of crying, I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

It seems like I have had more house mishaps in the last year than we had in all 21 years of living here.

But, I now know I can handle these catastrophes.

Not on my own.. but with the help of my tribe, I know I can pretty much accomplish anything that is thrown my way.

Thanks to the wonderful world of Google, I learned that a tiny insignificant hairline crack can be part of your door for quite awhile.

But, one day, for no apparent reason, the door may just shatter.

This whole experience got me thinking about life….

We are kind of like my shower door.

We look fine; standing tall, looking sturdy and even shiny.

Yet, we may have a tiny little crack just waiting to shatter our entire being.

Our world right now is so very precarious.

We are all living such a surreal existence.

We are all stressed out.

I think we may all have tiny cracks.

We get a runny nose or a headache and right away our minds go to Covid. We immediately start to worry and think “what if”….

We worry about our family members, our jobs, our homes….

Special events are being cancelled once again and we are missing out on being with our loved ones.

I don’t think it would take much for each of us to fall apart.

So, my shower door catastrophe reminded me of the significance of kindness.

We all have cracks right now and we need to support one another regardless of politics or our beliefs.

This all seems kind of deep for a shattered shower door and don’t get me wrong, I’m TRULY annoyed that I have yet another thing I need to get fixed.

But instead of falling into the “why me” zone, I took a moment to reflect.

I am stronger than I ever thought I could be and I need to remind myself that I should be sharing my strength with others.

Because we all have cracks that no one else can see….

And we could all use support and kindness.

New Year’s Eve Day is the perfect time to reflect on the things you have learned throughout the year. People often make resolutions and I thought this would be the perfect time to share some of the words of wisdom I encountered. I found most of the things I am about to share online and hope that they resonate with you as much as they do with me.

Friday, January 7th marks one year since Steve passed away. I have had many people reach out and ask how I am doing and how I am handling it. To be completely honest, I haven’t been handling it. I’ve put it on a shelf. I am aware of this anniversary (is that what you would call it?), but if I focus on it, I will spend a lot of time in a dark place. So, I have placed it on a shelf where I am aware it resides. It comes off of the shelf at the most unpredictable times, but I really try to just hold onto it for a short time and then place it safely back on the shelf.

I can’t think too far into the future because it frightens me and I can’t reminisce about the past because it makes me sad. So, I have to stay present to preserve my well-being.

Don’t get me wrong, I am ACUTELY aware that this milestone looms above me. But, if I have learned anything this year, it is that I have to try to focus on things I can control. Not the things that I cannot.

And Steve is gone. I cannot bring him back. I have to figure out how to live this life to its fullest and to make sure that Jared and Shelby are safe and loved.

I saw this pic on Facebook and it’s simplicity really spoke to me. I often try to take those giant steps when I really should slowly take the small steps. I will continue to try to take smaller steps and try to not complete everything in “Marci Time”.

Marci Time is unrealistic. Not working in Marci Time is difficult for me. Everything cannot be accomplished immediately. I wish I had realized this earlier but sometimes, we learn things the hard way. This year will be about slowing down and understanding that not everyone works in Marci Time.

What kind of lessons can one learn from losing a spouse and the father of your children?

I have learned that I am much stronger than I thought. I was so frightened of all the “male” tasks I was going to have to take on and yet, I have accomplished most of them head on.

Don’t misunderstand me, there are still many times when I need help from others. That is also a lesson I learned. I learned that I can count on so many people in this world. I now know that when I need a shoulder to cry on or even someone to help me lift something heavy, I just need to reach out. That is a difficult lesson to learn…. Asking for help is not always easy. When I’m feeling really hesitant about asking for help, I remember what a truly dear friend said to me. She reminded me that I feel rewarded when I help others so why wouldn’t others feel rewarded by being there for me? Keep that in mind when you are feeling down or needing help. Good people WANT to help others. It fills their souls. So, when you need help, ask for it.

Another thing that I became acutely aware of is that you have to make time to enjoy life, family and friends. Work is important and of course, I want to be the best teacher, but family and loved ones should always come first.

As many of you know, Steve was a hard worker. He worked 6 days a week (sometimes 7) and was always on call. I often tried to get him to slow down and prioritize family and friends but he just had his eye on the prize and really wanted to succeed in his business. While his work ethic was admirable, it was also detrimental. This is perhaps the most heartbreaking lesson we have endured. All of the time and energy he spent at work cannot be brought back to us. We learned the very hearbreaking lesson that jobs can always find replacements, but family will miss you forever. Please don’t let you work ethic get in the way of loving your family and living your life to its fullest. Family is forever.

While I am not so sure I am out of the storm, I know it has taught me a lot. It has changed me down to my core. I will never be the same person I once was and I will never understand why this was my fate in life.

But I DO know that I deserve happiness and love. I am building new relationships and finding joy in living and loving life. I know that I will move forward and do my best to keep our family safe and moving forward.

Thank you to those of you that have stood by me during this really difficult time. I can never thank everyone enough for making sure I made it through the storm. I have met so many new and wonderful people because of this tragedy and I can only hope my journey has helped others find their own path.