Posted on

Run Rosina Run

“Although you may get exhausted sometimes, you can still get over it if you have people around you who give you warm words.” Nayeon

One of my favorite movies from the 90s was Run Lola Run. It is about a woman who had to obtain 100,000 Deutschmarks in twenty minutes to save her boyfriend’s life. I remember the movie’s endless images of Lola’s flame-red hair blowing in the wind as she ran from one scene to the other. 

So today, as I sit and write about the last three weeks of my loved one’s life, the images of Lola running become clearer. During these three weeks, I lost twenty-two pounds, not because of a special diet. It was a direct result of all the running that I was doing. Not quite like Lola, but running just the same. 

Run, Run, Run

From the moment I opened my eyes, I would be running. I could hear it in my head Run Rosina Run. I would run to feed our cat, change the litter, get dressed, jump in the car, and speed to the hospital, making all attempts to miss the early morning traffic. Upon entering the hospital, I would stop in the lobby, purchase a bagel and drink, and immediately take a bite while getting into the elevator. I knew that if I didn’t do it then I wouldn’t know when I would have an opportunity for another bite. 

After his surgery, every organ began to fail. Share on X

After his surgery, every organ began to fail. But the problem was that his kidneys were the first ones to go. Due to this, he was only allowed ice chips which I saw as cruel and unusual punishment. So before entering his intensive care room, I would put away all signs of food and drink.

Run Rosina Run. I would run in and out of his hospital room when the doctors or nurses performed procedures. I remember feeling guilty about this because somehow, I thought I should stay and support him while they did some uncomfortable and inhuman thing to him. But these procedures would give me a few minutes of reprieve from the horror of each day. I would take the elevator to the lobby, have a bite of my bagel, walk outside the hospital to smoke a cigarette, call a friend, and sob over the inevitable not-so-happy ending to our love story. 

One More Thing, One More Thing, And…

These escapes would last around 15 minutes, and then Run Rosina Run would enter my thoughts. Trying to be compassionate and not wanting to add to his discomfort, I made a point not to speak of food, the smell of food, and only drink when I was out of the room.

Even with all the running most days, I would return home after 10 p.m. to discover that I still had a partially eaten bagel and unfinished bottled diet coke at the bottom of my purse. Now I had to deal with the rest of my obligations – take a shower, wash clothes, pay a bill, return phone calls, check emails, play with his cat, unwind with music or TV and finally put myself to bed to do it all again and again.

So why was I running? Why had Run Lola Run infected my life? Share on X

So why was I running? Why had Run Lola Run infected my life? What was the purpose of my running? In the movie, Lola was running to obtain money to save the love of her life. However, it didn’t matter how much money I had in my life, as none of it would save my loved one’s life. My Ron would not make it no matter how fast I ran. Run Rosina Run. There was no saving him. Run Rosina Run.

The Answer is Obvious

As I think back, I question why I was running, but the answer is obvious. I was running because the clock was ticking away. There wasn’t much time left for us to be together. Not much time to share the things that were important to us. Little time to hold each other’s hands.

 

Did he know how much I loved him? Did he know how important he was to my life? To our children’s lives? Did he hear what I was telling him? When he decided to stop all treatment, did he hear my words, letting him know that I would support him and that we would be alright? 

The day my Ron died; the running stopped. Share on X

The day my Ron died; the running stopped. The weeks, months, and years of illness left emotional devastation that would take me some time to recover. Run Rosina Run hit a brick wall, and there would be no running for quite a while.

In the movie, Lola saved her loved one, but in my circumstances, only one person remained to be saved. So, at his death, I allowed others to step in, be of service and save me. I had been running for so long that just stopping felt unnatural, but the exhaustion eventually won out, and I lay down and slept. As time passed, with some support, love, and therapy, I finally started to feel better. Run Rosina Run didn’t have to run anymore.

 

Posted on

Grief and His First Love

“For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.” Audrey Hepburn

Forty-two days after my loved one passed, I left my home in the northeast to attend a special celebration in Florida. I wanted to be at this anniversary party for my close friend. However, as a new widow, I sought the tenderness, compassion, and unconditional love that I knew that many of the guests would be able to provide.

Nothing Could Touch Me

We stayed on the beach, sharing a condo overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The view was beautiful and the ocean air felt healing. I took the couch to sleep with the sliding glass doors open and heard the waves in the evening. Nothing seemed like it could touch me here, not even the despair and separateness I felt before arriving. I needed some time to be, breathe, and feel a connection to the God of my understanding.

 

On that beautiful morning, I sat on the balcony, letting my breath carry me into a place of peace when my phone rang.

 

Glancing at the face, I saw that it was my loved one’s ex-wife. I knew that I was grieving, the sense of loss I felt was overwhelming, and the last person I wanted to speak to was an ex-wife.

The last person I wanted to speak to was an ex-wife. Share on X

I summoned all the patience and tolerance I had and answered the phone. Instead of my head telling me that it would be unpleasant and trying, I allowed my kind and loving God to open me up to whatever was on the other end of the phone.

I listened and I found myself letting her kindness and thoughtfulness touch me.  I don’t remember what was said as the conversation was short. However, it was clear that it was an act of compassion that didn’t need to happen but did. She went out of her way to let me know that she was thinking of me. She expressed her kindness and shared her most profound regret for my loss.

The Mother of my Daughter

 

This woman was the mother of my daughter. She was my loved one’s first love, high school girlfriend, and ex-wife.

 

What I know is that this woman was most certainly experiencing her own sense of loss, and she still took the time to call me. This act of kindness reminded me not to assume anything about what an ex-wife could or would do.

I ended the telephone call grateful for the work we had done through the years to put aside the wife/ex-wife thing and do what would be best for our children. And on this day, of all days, it paid off.

 

On this day, I was reminded not to project or deny someone an opportunity to practice compassion and empathy no matter who they are. I know today that kindness is not just relegated to family and friends.

I am incredibly grateful to that special ex-wife whose kind and gentle words provided an unexpected reprieve in the middle of my grief. For that, I am extremely thankful.

Posted on

Peace In the Middle of Grief

“Sometimes you need to press pause to let everything sink in.” Sebastian Vettel

A few of us traveled to Florida to be at a friend’s thirtieth-anniversary celebration. Arriving and immediately feeling the warmth of the weather was a welcomed change from our snow in the Northeast. My friends had rented a couple of condos,’ and I was fortunate enough to have been invited to share a space overlooking the beautiful Atlantic Ocean from the seventh floor.

Two of the women ended up with the bedrooms in one condo, but I had the best room in the house, the couch in the living room. The living room had sliding glass doors to the balcony, so I would open the doors to 

catch the tropical breeze and hear the waves. Share on X

The Gathering Place

The condo had a dining and living room area where the women would snack, talk, and make plans for the next few days of our visit. However, despite the women’s generosity and warmth they gave to me, I still felt alone. Wearing my heart on my sleeve, it was apparent to anyone that I was broken and in a fog.

We would go out to eat, and conversations took place all around me, but I spent most of my time in silence. The women were incredible, and they tried to draw me out. However, they tended to ask questions about how I felt and offered solutions to my dilemma, which would feed into the thought process that I should be doing better.  

However, a good friend of mine and one of the women I shared the condo with was different. My friend didn’t judge. She

didn't offer suggestions of what I should or shouldn't be doing, Share on X

didn’t try to make it better but what she did do was just listen. She gave me her undivided attention and I felt comfortable enough to share some of the most devastating moments of my loved one’s final days. Feeling safe, I shared and cried over my unimaginable loss. 

Unexpected Blessing

I realized that being at the condo was a blessing that I hadn’t anticipated. In the middle of winter, this getaway provided me with some peace of mind, but more importantly, I felt my heart comforted.

The conversations that I had with this close friend were healing, and the view of the ocean provided a sense of serenity that I hadn’t felt since my loved one’s death.   

I know that on that evening I felt blessed to have a friend like her. The sounds of the crashing waves enabled me to fall asleep and provided a glimpse of some peace in the middle of my grief.