This month my sweet cousin Pat will commemorate the first anniversary of her husband’s death.

Growing up, even though Pat and I were cousins, and we only lived a few blocks apart, she and I were never terribly close. Nothing wrong, probably the age difference… different set of friends…

Many years have passed since those adolescent days, far faster than we could have imagined. Marriage. Babies. Divorce. True Love. Grandchildren. We’ve kept up with each other through family members, the occasional funeral…etc…

And then one day in 2009 my husband committed suicide.

And in an instant my world changed.

Words can’t describe the loss. The hurt. The devastation. Where do you turn? What do you do next? Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months and a few things begin to evolve.

A new pattern. Sometimes, a new way of doing things. Discovery.

And for me, one source of encouragement, one source of a friendly hello, was my cousin Pat. Only once did we actually get together in person, we communicated mostly through Facebook and Messenger, but I could always count on Pat to be there in my corner.

As of last August, sadly, I share a new kinship with Pat. She had to say goodbye to her companion, her confidant, her best friend of 34 years, her sweet husband Rusty.

As I said earlier, this month Pat will commemorate the first anniversary of Rusty’s passing.

And with every passing week since she said goodbye, and with each milestone, and every holiday, Pat has been on my heart and in my prayers.

Because I remember; and I weep.

The first week without my husband.

The first time I reached for him, and he wasn’t there.

The first time I called his name with no answer.

The first time I had to tell someone that my husband died.

And all the other “firsts”.

The obvious; holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries.

But then the not so obvious.

The first time you get bad news and you need his shoulder to cry on.

The first time something joyous happens and he’s not there to share it with.

The first time someone says, “I miss him” and your heart breaks all over again.

The first time…

Oh God, there’s so many. And it’s so hard.

But there is good news; and thank God for a heart that is resilient, and determined, and willing to commit to that seemingly impossible task of becoming… becoming what…. perhaps on some days, just becoming aware and glad that it’s a sunny day. Or maybe, down the road, even becoming a better version of what we were before our lives were turned upside down.

So after a while other “firsts” begin to happen.

Like the first time you didn’t cry in 24 hours.

The first time you remembered to smile.

The first time you felt optimistic.

The first time you accomplished something entirely on your own.

The first time you thought to yourself, “I’m going to be okay.”

And for me, many years later, the first time you get yourself ready for a first date.

I’ll borrow my own words from a post I wrote years ago called, “She Believed.” It was written in honor of the women in my life that have inspired me, encouraged me, and lifted me up. Pat was included in that group of strong, inspiring women.

“We fell but we didn’t stay down, we wiped our bloodied knees and got back up.  We cried, but we wiped our tears away and pushed forward.  We doubted, but it didn’t consume us. We overcame. And that’s what I celebrate today.”

Below is the video I put together to accompany that post. That’s Pat & family @ 1:38.

I spoke with Pat last night to ask permission to tag her in this post. I mentioned that I feel like she has not only survived this past year; but thrived. She humbly denied the statement, but honestly, after losing a spouse, sometimes deciding to get out of bed the morning after a particularly lonely, tearful night – is a form of thriving. Baby steps yes, but steps forward just the same.

These last 12 months I have observed Pat take on the task of remodeling her home, quite beautifully and skillfully. She has found the courage to love again; a sweet, feisty puppy she named Miss Daisy (Doodle). -And all through this terrible, scary pandemic. Courageous? You better believe it!

This is for you Pat.

Love to you at this special time. Rusty would be so proud of you.

~ Cat ~