Beyond the day-to-day horror show that is the current presidency, what made this year the most horrible was the unexpected and sudden death of Mark, back in February. In my life I have been part of the watching and waiting for a loved one to pass, and there is incredible stress throughout that entire process. But unexpected death is so much more like stepping in front of a bus. The impact is immediate and life-changing. Perspective is altered, and nothing is ever the same again. There is no map for this journey. And "The Five Stages of Grief" sounds so simple and tidy, until the reality of grief becomes all-enveloping. The word "stages" is a misnomer, carrying with it the implication of steps in a process. There are no steps - only the roller coaster that lurches from minute-to minute, hour-to-hour, day-to-day as life goes on, the same, yet completely different. And through it all, there have been those who have eased the burden by walking alongside.
It is important to me to acknowledge as many people as I can, who have been instrumental in helping me and those I love get through this year. The EMTs who worked on Mark that day. The Tigard police officers who sat with me. Steve Fawver and Elizabeth Sherwood, who responded to the call from the officer and helped in so many ways, including their support through the most unbearable moments as I told Eryn and Liz. My sister Kari, who took on the difficult job of telling my parents and Mark's siblings. My parents, who have been so strong for me, even as they themselves have been missing Mark. My dad, who brought me a Jamba Juice every morning for 5 weeks when it was so difficult for me to eat. Friends from church and the Tigard High band family, who brought us meals for over a month. Jim Irving, who stepped in to run the Winter Marching program. My friend Joe Dessert, who took over my class load for an entire term. Pete Kostel, who encouraged me to return to my softball announcing on my own schedule, as I was able. My son-in-law Brad, who has been a rock for us all. The Tigard High Band, who presented a moving musical tribute to Mark in concert last Spring. Friends who offer a hug and talk about their memories of Mark. My students last year and this year, who extend grace to a teacher who is still trying to get her full brain back. Our community at Newberg Emerging Friends Church, who continue to carry on the work in which Mark so strongly believed. The group of 11 friends who showed up to paint the inside of my new house, and got it all finished in half a day. Mortgage banker Kacie Luidhardt, who is generous with her time and good advise. Realtor Rob Blakely, who is never pushy but always available. Steve, whose skill as a therapist helps me to maintain perspective. My two daughters, who have been incredibly strong in helping me as they are also navigating their own grief. And so many others, more than I can list. If you did not see your name, please understand that I have appreciated each and every one of you. Truly.
Mark and I walked together for 43 years. I have come to understand that, for me, what is most difficult is the loss of the companionship and shared values that were the constants during those years. To honor those values, I donated to three charities Mark cared about - Medical Teams International, The Carter Center, and Habitat for Humanity - as he and I have done in the past. It is my hope that this next year will see our society head back in the direction of caring for immigrants, election reform, and helping those who have needs of housing, food, heat, and employment - the things for which Mark was passionate. He lived his faith through service to others. How can we do any less?
2018, you will not be mourned. Welcome, 2019.
Medical Teams, International
The Carter Center
Habitat for Humanity
