Category Archives: tragedy

“Griefing”…Marking Three Years (A Life Interrupted)

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I’ve taken to making up words. I guess that’s what happens after three years. We’ve moved past the point of surviving and here we are in this new reality—”griefing.” No longer adjusting to life without Mom as we are in fact living our lives without Mom. As you can imagine, this brings about a whole new stage of sadness.

While in survival mode the days blurred together. My mind began noting all of the things she was missing. All the milestones, events, holidays and ordinary moments. I would catch myself saying, “Mom should be here.” In survival mode you look at the calendar and note how much time has passed. In this early stage of grief you remember where you were in the days leading up to her positive COVID test, ER visits, hospital stay and ultimately her death. In survival mode you are doing everything you can to just get by. Griefing is different.

Griefing is living daily with this neverending sorrow. I feel like it’s a permanent stage, one you can’t escape. It feels like a step that will neither get better nor worse. The memories exist, but we are now making memories without her. I hate this feeling. The sting is still there, the tears remain just below the surface and yet there is this awful resignation. Understanding that this is part of the human condition doesn’t make it better. Knowing that millions of people feel exactly the same way doesn’t make it any easier. It’s this hidden current that runs through society and no one wants to talk about it. Ever.

It’s interesting to me that in the aftermath of COVID we are hearing more about prolonged grief and complicated grief as mental health conditions. Many are receiving these diagnoses and seeking treatment. And while I understand that some of the characteristics of these conditions are severe (such as the inability to resume daily activites, etc) I also think that our failure to cope with loss has more to do with a lack of communication and overall empathy for one another. I could go on and on about the societal demand to resume our work schedule, home life and the call to return to “normal,” but these things have become a staple of modern living and will lkely never change.

There are some things in life that we will never fully understand, death being one of them. Losing my Mother has changed my perspective on so many things. I now posess a form of patience and compassion that surprises me to this day. I have been humbled in a way I could have never imagined. Empathy has changed how I react to everything. I am different now. I am griefing.

Writing has been my therapy, the best form of solace for my grief. Who knows where I will be in this journey a year from now, five years from now or even ten (if I am afforded that luxury). They say time heals all wounds. It doesn’t. I’ll stand by that.

“A Life Interrupted” is an ongoing series of blog posts dealing with the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.

From Gray to Grace

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Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.  —Haruki Murakami

Last week’s tragedy will never make sense.  No answer will ever be good enough.  Understanding will likely never come.  A life cut short.  Senseless violence.

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ERNIE ORTIZ 1949-2019

It has been said that we’re all one phone call away from dropping to our knees. And nothing has ever been more true. Human life is fragile and fleeting. Most of us naively walking around as if we have all the time in the world, as if our days are not numbered, as if we have some sense of control…and sadly, we do not.  And while life itself is a gift, we don’t always live like it.  Our words, our actions, our brokenness speak for themselves reminding us that we are all fallible humans.  Even the best of us walk the line between sinner and saint daily.

So it is no surprise that at some point, we all find ourselves here…struggling with loss in its many forms, be it friendships, relationships, marriages, jobs, hopes or dreams, but I feel it is the loss of life that hurts the most.  It’s inescapable.  Unavoidable.  The grief, the permanency, maybe even the unknown…it fills our thoughts, occupies our hearts and often leaves wounds that never quite heal.

Statistically, death occurs on a bell curve with our most vulnerable moments at the beginning and the end of our life spans.  If you’re lucky, it’s something one only deals with during their latter days.  We know that death due to age, illness, and disease remain tragic, but a life taken too soon, a life snuffed out, a life robbed at any age hurts as if it’s been compounded tenfold.  Many will tell you that time heals all wounds.  Maybe.  More realistically though, time only allows for space between the hurt.

Finding peace is all circumstances isn’t easy.  In fact, it’s a lot of work.  If you’re not a Christian, I honestly don’t know how you do it.  For me, knowing that I have a God who walks beside me is something that I don’t take for granted.  When I am weak, He is my strength.  When I am lost, He is my rock.  Christ’s ultimate sacrifice reminds us that death doesn’t have the final say.  Uncle Ernie was a believer, I take comfort in that.  Our lives, our very existence is not in vain.  On the mountaintop and in the valley, there remains a plan and a purpose for each of us.

In the days and weeks to come, stories will be told and photos will be shared. In talking with family, we have chosen to focus on the “dash” and celebrate a life LIVED.  As poet Linda Ellis explains, “He noted that first came the date of birth and spoke of the following date with tears, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.”  And what a dash it was!  Countless adventures, innumerable memories, and a bounty of friends.

When you’re a kid, life seems so black and white.  There’s good and evil.  Right and wrong.  The lines are clearly drawn.  As we grow up, move from adolescence through adulthood, we realize that life is actually more of a marbled gray.  Dark shades, complicated, stressful, and uneven as we navigate day to day living among the broken, but intermixed with bright hues, beautiful, joyful, and full of promise!  As we all inch forward, I pray that we move from that marbled gray into grace!  Life is too short to live any other way.  Let us approach each other more tenderly and offer love, patience, and kind words…only then can we truly find resolve (and maybe even peace) along the way.

Rest Easy, Uncle Ernie.

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 

2 Corinthians 5:1

I Have So Much to Tell You….

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There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings. –Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Used to be that if you found an interesting news article, you’d clip it out of the newspaper/magazine and store it in a safe place.  Sometimes, if it was particularly moving or important, you’d haul yourself down to a Kinko’s or something and make copies.  If one deemed it EXTRA pertinent, you might purchase a stamp and mail it to someone.  In today’s “copy and paste” world, news nerds like myself are one click away from sharing various news links…or in my case, SAVING, interesting articles.

FullSizeRenderI have several dozens saved.  I won’t give you an exact number…as it might be used against me as a measurement of my nerdiness.  You can probably imagine that several of these saved articles fall into the faith and family categories.  What can I say other than that I’m fairly predictable and in some regards, very old school.  I tried sharing a SAVED article with my son recently…via a link in a text message…to which I received a sullen reply and an interesting emoticon followed by the words “you know, I’m not reading this.”  Sure, I’ve been known to send him (and my daughter) preachy sorts of things, but in my defense this was actually a sports article and a good one at that.  But my kids are too wise and know their mother too well…the warning lights start flashing, “SHE’S TRYING TO TELL US SOMETHING.”  And, yes, they’re right.

Lately, my SAVED files have been focused on one subject–SUBSTANCE ABUSE.  I have countless, tragic articles on teens dying as a result of drinking games, drunk driving accidents, and every type of drug overdose.  It’s morbid, I know.  Some of these news links have photos…sweet, smiling photos of adolescents who have become victims and horrible, graphic photos of teenagers lost too soon.  These are the kinds of things that break my heart.  In the sweet smiling photos I see my own babies…innocent and full of promise.  In the horrible, graphic photos I feel my eyes well up with tears and my throat tighten at what I can only imagine is a mother’s worst nightmare.

The researcher in me keeps hitting the “save” button and then I pour over the article looking for what went wrong and scanning the account for early warning signs and prevention strategies.  The mother bear in me keeps hitting the “save” button, vowing that I will protect my children from drugs and alcohol at all costs.  The realist in me keeps hitting the “save” button knowing that these sorts of things are happening NOW, in our schools and in our community.  I do these things all the while praying…for an angel to watch over my kiddos, for good role models and friends for them, and that I might be the kind of parent that can love them through anything.  I do this because I am not naïve, families (like mine and like yours) have been hit over the head and completely broken by these sorts of tragedies.  If my research has proven anything, it’s that no one is immune.

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Saved by the Bell. Season 3, Episode 21. 1991

But the news nerd in me says, “Tell them, show them” as I compile my montage of anecdotes and news links about the dangers of alcohol and drug abuse.  I play out in my head conversations about how to handle alcohol and what responsible drinking looks like and then, oftentimes following beer commercials (while watching sports on TV,) we talk about it.  I remind the kids that alcoholism has taken the lives of family members.  We talk about some of the science behind addiction.  I quote my mantra (courtesy of the Saved by the Bell television show,) THERE’S NO HOPE WITH DOPE.  (I have actually told my children that I would foot the bill for that tattoo!)  I scrunch up my nose every time some one tries to convince me that recreational marijuana is a good idea…and then I talk about it with my kids.  I tell them that while I worked as a reporter that I met a woman who was my age (22 at the time) and addicted to meth.  She looked gaunt with leathery skin.  She slurred her words because she had lost so many teeth as a result of her addiction.  Her hair was falling out and she was in jail.  I remember this so clearly because in talking with her we discovered that we had similar backgrounds…middle class upbringing, two parent household, grew up in a small town, etc.  And yet our lives were so different.  When I share these things, I’m bold enough to tell them, “This is NOT for YOU.”  And then I pray some more.

So here’s what I want them to know….

  • With one “hit,” they can drastically change their life.
  • Drinking games are not games.
  • Underage drinking and drug use is dumb (you’re destroying brain cells) and dangerous.
  • Being “under the influence” of anything will cause you to make horrible decisions.
  • Be on guard.  Today strangers (and so-called friends) can put drugs/alcohol in your drinks and food.
  • Bad guys will prey upon girls (and boys) who are under the influence.
  • There will be photographs and I will find out.

And here’s what I also want to tell them….

  • I love you.  I will help you and care for you first…but that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences or a lecture for bad choices.
  • A bad day, date, break-up does not determine your worth.  Don’t add to your heartache by throwing drugs and alcohol into the mix.
  • Peer pressure sucks.  I taught you to the difference between right and wrong.  Be strong.  It won’t be easy, but I believe it is in you to say “No,” in fact I’ve heard you say it a thousand times already.
  • I’m going to ask you where you’re going and who you’re with.  This is for both of us.  It makes you accountable and helps me gauge just how much I should worry about you and whether or not I should just NOT let you go.
  • And finally, don’t die doing something stupid!

I’m sick of people glamorizing drugs and alcohol…in music, television and social media.  It turns my stomach to see celebrities practically endorsing this kind of lifestyle.  It’s gut wrenching to see so many young people, full of hope and promise, end up broken or dead…and for what?  I wish I didn’t have a SAVE list full of these horror stories, but I do.  So listen up, kiddos, I will continue to tell you (and your friends) all about them.  I will even share the photos.  Know that I’m adding to my arsenal of articles everyday…because you are loved and I truly do have so much more to tell you.

Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.  Proverbs 1:8

 

 

 

 

When News Becomes the Tragedy

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In a former life I worked as a TV news reporter. It was my dream job! I say that because when I was an eight year old little girl, I decided that I wanted to be a journalist.  It’s a pretty big word for a second-grader, but…I liked big words!  My focus was so intense that while many of my peers played “house” and Barbies, I often cajoled family and friends into playing “TV News Station” in my basement.  It was my favorite game 🙂

While most kids outgrow or revamp their ideal job, mine never really wavered.  One of my most treasured memories growing up was getting to visit a “real” TV news station.  In the small, southwestern Kansas town where I lived we were lucky enough to have a news bureau.  A small building way out in the country with a giant antenna, a few offices and an actual news studio.  I got to see how the news was produced, watch the anchor/reporter get ready for live reports, check out the teleprompter and they even let me sit at the news desk.  I loved every minute!  Those outings only furthered my desire to make it in the news business.

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My personal “prophecy” from my senior year in high school. Each student was asked to make a life prediction. Class of 1993

A self-avowed news junkie, I often surprised teachers with my knowledge of current events.  Even at a young age, I gobbled up newspapers and watched the national nightly news (sidebar, Tom Brokaw was my secret crush!) Throughout high school I wrote for the newspaper and took courses in broadcasting.  After graduation, declaring a major was a no-brainer.  I can’t begin to tell you how much I enjoyed pursuing this passion in college.  The university I attended offered so many wonderful hands-on opportunities in broadcasting.  I learned about both the radio and television side of the news from wonderful professors who I adore to this day.  I never really considered it work, it was all just incredibly challenging, invigorating and oh so much FUN!  So when I landed my first internship and later my first job in the industry, I felt like I had won the lottery.  Listen up, kids…dreams do come true!

So why am I writing about this now?  I left the business many years ago and I haven’t set foot in a newsroom in over a decade, but when I heard about the tragedy in Virginia yesterday it really hit me–hard…and in a way that I wasn’t expecting.  While making bag lunches for my kiddos to take to school, I stood there in disbelief, my heart immediately aching for the families and friends of those involved.  As more information was shared throughout the day, my disbelief continued.  Look, I told you that I’m a devout news junkie (almost to a fault) and we know that for the most part the news is TRAGIC…daily and tragic.  So why was I so stunned?

It wasn’t until later that evening when my daughter and I went to pick up my son from church youth group that my personal grief came into focus.  She asked me, “Mom, when you worked in news was it scary?  Did you ever think someone would kill you?”  I told her that I loved working as a reporter, that it was exciting and rewarding.  There were so many parts of the business that I truly loved…especially the people I worked with.  I shared with her that while I had covered stories in some questionable and unfamiliar places that at no point was I ever fearful.  No sooner had I uttered those words did I realize that this was the source of my heavy heart. Reporter Alison Parker and cameraman Adam Ward were doing their jobs that morning.  A live shot for a story about tourism.  Look, it doesn’t get anymore benign than that in the news industry.  They were young, energetic, had their whole lives ahead of them and they never, EVER saw it coming.  And while I can’t relate with most tragedies that make the news, I could relate to this one.  I had been there before…making small talk before the shoot, holding a microphone, adjusting my outfit one more time before the cameraman gave his cue.

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This photo has been floating around the web. To me, it’s a great representation of the atmosphere in a typical newsroom.

I don’t want to believe that this is the world we live in, but I’m not naïve.  We will probably hear a lot more about this story because (in case you didn’t know) news people take care of their own.  As we watch an entire industry come to grips with such a graphic example of workplace violence, we will no doubt hear new details about all of the events leading up to this tragedy.  These details will be magnified, politicized, examined, and theorized… all in the next few days.  An outsider might chalk this up to just another disgruntled employee seeking some sort of revenge and move on, but for those inside the news business there will be many, many questions.  And likely, no good answers.

Yesterday reminded me of the many wonderful people I worked with waaaaaaay back in the day.  I want you to know that I saw your posts on social media and I recall the early mornings together, leaving work in the wee hours of the night, being called in at ridiculously, horrible hours in the a.m., covering good news stories, and retelling tragedies.  But what I remember most was the family like atmosphere that truly exists at news stations across the country.  We spent countless weekends together, numerous holidays and essentially some pretty big and meaningful days of our lives with one another.  My heart goes out to those who mourn the loss of  reporter Alison Parker and cameraman Adam Ward whose lives were struck down so tragically as they only intended to report the news and not be the news on that fateful morning.  If I’ve learned anything in the business, it’s that most of us started out with a pretty big dream and that those who choose this profession do so hoping to change the world (for the better.)

And I believe that good journalism, good television, can make our world a better place. Christiane Amanpour