Grieving journal of Jack Pyle
I inserted these two quotes as introductions to this journal on June 17, 2006:
The call of death is a call of love. Death can be sweet if we answer it in the affirmative, if we accept it as one of the great external forms of life and transformation.
Herman Hesse
Today, I accept my tears of grief as the life giving rain that fosters new growth. Even in the face of death itself, I feel the resiliency of life moving me inexorable onward to greater good.
Julia Cameron
My wife and best friend Connie died in her sleep on February 3, 2006. We were married almost 38 years. I found out later that it was a heart attack.
I am writing this journal, which began the evening she died, in hopes that it may help other men who lose their wives or those who lose a family member to death either unexpectedly or following a long illness. I have discovered that other grievers who have shared their grieving experiences with me have helped me immensely to understand and accept what I am going through.
Let me share two things I have learned:
1. We must live in the Present Moment and work to improve our tomorrows by focusing on today. We cannot change the past no matter how much we wish for it. Many people spend too much time in the past, mostly reliving bad things that have happened. Or hoping that the love they have shared and lost could somehow miraculously be made real again. But the brutal truth is that we must go on. It is also a hopeful truth.
2. We never know if today is the last day we will spend with a loved one. Make today with your loved ones special. Tell them how you feel about them. You may not get the chance to say it tomorrow. Do not go to bed angry. When we were married I asked Connie to commit with me that we would never sleep apart in anger. And we never did.
I have been reading books about the grieving process. And I have been talking with other grievers. One thing is clear. We have a choice. We can decide to create a great future for ourselves. Or we can wallow in pity. C.S. Lewis chose to wallow. I choose to celebrate the wonders of an incredible love experience and to move on into my new life. I can do anything I want! How many people can say that?
Here are some excerpts from C.S. Lewis about his grief over the loss of his wife Helen:
"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing….I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me…
"There are moments, most unexpectedly, when something inside me tries to assure me that I don't really mind so much, not so very much, after all…Then comes a sudden jab of red-hot memory and all this 'commonsense' vanishes like an ant in the mouth of a furnace…
“I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief…And no one ever told me about the laziness of grief. Except at my job – where the machine seems to run on much as usual – I loathe the slightest effort. Not only writing, but even reading a letter is too much. Even shaving. What does it matter now whether my cheek is rough or smooth?...It’s easy to see why the lonely become untidy, finally, dirty and disgusting.”
Note: Personally, I had none of these experiences. Lewis was a brilliant man intellectually, but it seems he was a bit retarded emotionally.
Eventually Lewis moved on in his grieving journey: “Bereavement is not the truncation of married love but one of its regular phases – like the honeymoon. What we want is to live our marriage well and faithfully through that phase, too.”
Source: C.S. Lewis on Grief, copyright C.S. Lewis Pte Ltd., ISNB 0 7852 7096 5
And here are my thoughts about my own grieving process. Many of the initial items were emails to friends. I slept about an hour the night Connie died. My heart felt shattered. I got up and went to my computer and started pouring out my grief, bleeding in words. It was very therapeutic.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
My Grieving Journey - February 5, 2006
1:10 AM
It has been two days. I was just thinking that being alone is going to be much more comfortable than I had imagined. I guess that is a good sign.
Connie finished her missions here and moved to a new spiritual plane very early Friday morning peacefully in her sleep.
I was also just thinking that I have closed the door, brought down the curtain on an incredible life of partnering, parenting, loving (giving and receiving.) I can cherish what I had and create what I want. I have never done that -- just took what came along next (most of the time.) Exceptions were starting my own businesses.
9:22 PM - Email to my CoachVille.com coaching buddies in the U.S. and Canada
I started writing notes for a journal last night after I was thinking while standing in my bedroom with the door to the deck open looking at the snow, something Connie loved to do. I thought: "Connie, I am going to be okay. I know it. I don't need to be lonely. I had a fairy tale romance with you. It was glorious. Now I should get started on creating my new life."
I really thought I was through grieving yesterday. [This dude is slo-o-ow.] The morning Connie died I spent a lot of time outside screaming at the universe. But my throat got pretty sore, so I had to stop about noon. Then when the RAGE was gone and my denial was pretty much over, I thought I was okay. I am fine with this. I will be okay. The future is bright.
I even got a little cocky about it. I could be alone in my bedroom and feel completely at peace. I'll bet Connie was helping with that. She has been very busy visiting family members. The stories are heart rending and uplifting. A friend that Allen has strong connection to is here and we were all talking in my bedroom, sitting on the love seat Connie and I just finished reupholstering a few months ago. We had candles glowing and had a great conversation. When I talked about my sister-in-law telling me of Connie's visit to sooth her and help her know she must go on, Jan said, "Connie's right there in bed under the covers."
So anyway, here's cocky Jack, so-o-o-o smooth. I don't feel alone in my bedroom. (Oh, I just realized that really was Connie's doing, wasn't it? Hmm-m-m-m.)
So I'm going along well on day two. Then day three comes and I'm grieving again. The second wave hit me. My son Allen made a sine wave picture with his finger. “Oh yeah,” I said. “This will continue in waves. I need some professional counseling.” I had already called our therapist Fred and said I would be in Thursday for our regular session. Today I called and told Fred I need his first available appointment. I will look for a grieving support group tomorrow, as well.
So---I started a journal. I decided I need to get this all down or I will forget the details. Writing seems to help. I'd better get back to that book I’m writing about speaking at your peak! My next book after that is basic survival cooking. It should be a hit with people who want to learn to cook fast and good.
Well, I'm babbling on, which I know is okay. Goodnight, dear friends.
I am going to build a wonderful life. I can do anything I want. You know, I don't think I've ever felt that way so strongly. Wow, I can do anything I want.
[March 5, 2006 – Remembering that first week I am reminded of how numb I was. Slept little and had no appetite. My kids would prepare plates of food, hand them to me and say: “Eat.”]
Day Three - February 6, 2006
[Notice to friends] We are holding a memorial service to Celebrate the Life of Connie Pyle on Sunday, February 12 at 2 PM at the County Fairgrounds Community Building on Ash Street in Mason.
We are requesting that flowers not be sent. For those who are interested, I have arranged with The Nature Conservancy in Lansing to accept contributions to help protect our precious world in the memory of Connie. They should be sent in her name to The Nature Conservancy, 101 E Grand River, Lansing MI 48904.
It has been two days. I was just thinking that being alone is going to be much more comfortable than I had imagined. I guess that is a good sign.
Connie finished her missions here and moved to a new spiritual plane very early Friday morning peacefully in her sleep.
I was also just thinking that I have closed the door, brought down the curtain on an incredible life of partnering, parenting, loving (giving and receiving.) I can cherish what I had and create what I want. I have never done that -- just took what came along next (most of the time.) Exceptions were starting my own businesses.
9:22 PM - Email to my CoachVille.com coaching buddies in the U.S. and Canada
I started writing notes for a journal last night after I was thinking while standing in my bedroom with the door to the deck open looking at the snow, something Connie loved to do. I thought: "Connie, I am going to be okay. I know it. I don't need to be lonely. I had a fairy tale romance with you. It was glorious. Now I should get started on creating my new life."
I really thought I was through grieving yesterday. [This dude is slo-o-ow.] The morning Connie died I spent a lot of time outside screaming at the universe. But my throat got pretty sore, so I had to stop about noon. Then when the RAGE was gone and my denial was pretty much over, I thought I was okay. I am fine with this. I will be okay. The future is bright.
I even got a little cocky about it. I could be alone in my bedroom and feel completely at peace. I'll bet Connie was helping with that. She has been very busy visiting family members. The stories are heart rending and uplifting. A friend that Allen has strong connection to is here and we were all talking in my bedroom, sitting on the love seat Connie and I just finished reupholstering a few months ago. We had candles glowing and had a great conversation. When I talked about my sister-in-law telling me of Connie's visit to sooth her and help her know she must go on, Jan said, "Connie's right there in bed under the covers."
So anyway, here's cocky Jack, so-o-o-o smooth. I don't feel alone in my bedroom. (Oh, I just realized that really was Connie's doing, wasn't it? Hmm-m-m-m.)
So I'm going along well on day two. Then day three comes and I'm grieving again. The second wave hit me. My son Allen made a sine wave picture with his finger. “Oh yeah,” I said. “This will continue in waves. I need some professional counseling.” I had already called our therapist Fred and said I would be in Thursday for our regular session. Today I called and told Fred I need his first available appointment. I will look for a grieving support group tomorrow, as well.
So---I started a journal. I decided I need to get this all down or I will forget the details. Writing seems to help. I'd better get back to that book I’m writing about speaking at your peak! My next book after that is basic survival cooking. It should be a hit with people who want to learn to cook fast and good.
Well, I'm babbling on, which I know is okay. Goodnight, dear friends.
I am going to build a wonderful life. I can do anything I want. You know, I don't think I've ever felt that way so strongly. Wow, I can do anything I want.
[March 5, 2006 – Remembering that first week I am reminded of how numb I was. Slept little and had no appetite. My kids would prepare plates of food, hand them to me and say: “Eat.”]
Day Three - February 6, 2006
[Notice to friends] We are holding a memorial service to Celebrate the Life of Connie Pyle on Sunday, February 12 at 2 PM at the County Fairgrounds Community Building on Ash Street in Mason.
We are requesting that flowers not be sent. For those who are interested, I have arranged with The Nature Conservancy in Lansing to accept contributions to help protect our precious world in the memory of Connie. They should be sent in her name to The Nature Conservancy, 101 E Grand River, Lansing MI 48904.
My Grieving Journey - Day four of the rest of my life - February 7, 2006
6:53 AM
I got almost five hours of sleep.
I can do this. I just don't much like it. It is very strange. It is rocky. But I remembered to take out the garbage this morning without Connie to remind me. (Or maybe she did?)
I've gone through all the family photos with the kids to find pictures of Connie for a slide show for the memorial service. Found some really great shots. One of them I'm going to ask my photographer JD Small to print and frame. I called him on Friday and asked for a print of the new photos that were taken of the family during Christmas. He made an 11x14 of the two of us and delivered it himself yesterday. He wouldn't take any money for it.
Connie hated to have her picture taken at a studio. I told her we were going to have a new family picture taken and she would just have to live with it. (Well, I guess she got the last word on that one, eh?) I wore a sweater she knitted for me about 30 years ago. Yesterday both Kendra and I were wearing sweaters she made for us.
I found a wonderful picture of Connie among the memories. It is now my favorite picture of her. I took it while we were in Toronto about 12 years ago celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. We visited the Allen Botanical Center where we had a personal restating of our marriage vows. The flowers were so fragrant! I told Connie I would be faithful to her and wanted another 25 years of marriage. Then we would reconsider our vows. She is an incredible vision in the picture. She did not believe that she was a beautiful woman. So many people have been telling me that she illuminated a room. She sure did! She glowed. What a powerful spirit she is.
Well, the tears are flowing.
Kendra and I went to her employer yesterday to clear out her desk. Kendra did it while were surrounded by people through the whole process. Her boss Dave went to lunch with us. He is stunned. He has always been quiet, but not this quiet. We had a nice lunch, and I told him that I strongly felt Connie's presence with us. "She is sitting right there," I told him. We went to a new restaurant across from the Capitol. The food server said they were out of seafood bisque when I ordered it, so I decided on the carrot soup. The server said someone had mixed the bisque accidentally with some of the other soup. I said that sounded good, could I have the mixture. "Really?" she said. So she brought it. I asked if the chef would share how he made the carrot soup, and he came to the table later and explained how to roast the vegetables and puree them to make a nice soup with any kind of vegetables. I told Dave I would like to spend time with him and meet for lunch again soon.
On the way home I realized he must hurt almost as much as I. After all, he spent almost as much time with Connie as I did. And she took care of him, too. He told me when we met at the office that he didn't know what he was going to do. He was planning to retire when Connie retired because he didn't want to work with anyone else. I called and left a message for him when I got home. I told him that I had only just begun to realize how much he must be hurting. I sent my prayers and support for him in his time of need. I am going to call him again today.
He was a great boss to her. She had worked for some really demanding and ungrateful bosses before him (I'm being kind and generous here.) I was talking to him about how much she had been discovering her true self over the past year. He said she had started becoming very up front in a pleasant and teasing way that was fun to be around.
I was talking with her last week while we were trying to figure out how to get her car to the garage for an oil change, get me to where I needed to be with a client and get her to work on time. She said, "I'll just be late." And I said, "Really?" "Oh yeah," she told me. I'm late to work all the time. "Wow," I said. "Connie Pyle is going to work late? And joking about it? You are really coming out, Babe!"
And she was. I told her that it was wonderful to see her true self emerging so strongly over the past year. She was beginning to recognize that she had needs and it was okay to take care of herself, instead of always focusing on the needs of others. My daughter Kendra told me that it was probably a good thing that Connie finished her work here and was moving on so we could take care of ourselves. She said she will have a hard time without her best friend. I told her I would like to be her best friend. Talking the first night, she shared some bad feelings she had had toward me growing up. She was concerned a little about saying it, and I told her she could say anything, literally anything, to me, and I hoped she would do so. In that way, we could grow even closer. We talked till after midnight last night until I was exhausted and had to go to bed.
And, I want to share this incredible email I got. I knew Connie had touched a lot of people, but I didn't realize I have done the same.
Dear Lion Jack
Words fail us when we want to express our deepest emotions, and your loss brings many, many folks to sadness and wishing we could do something to lighten your load. First Lady Linda and I bring you the sympathy of District 11 B2 during this devastating time.
The word sympathy cannot adequately express how we feel about the leader who has done so much for so many, to build better communications and stronger leadership in our pride of Lions. It is possible that you, sir, have personally impacted more individuals in the state, than any other single person, and now we want you to know that your family feels deeply for your loss.
May comfort come and may your strength be restored as you seek to comfort your loved ones.
Lions Hank and Linda
Day Five - February 7, 2006, 7:55 AM
(A note to the firm where Connie worked)
The flowers sent by the firm arrived yesterday. I have set up a display on our buffet and on the wall behind are pictures of Connie and a display of her art. The flowers have a prominent place. You are invited to come to our home after the memorial service and see it for yourself.
The flowers feature lavender roses that are exactly like ones Connie and I planted in a new spiritual garden I have been creating. I didn't realize it was going to be Connie's spiritual garden. It is a large arc spreading from the clematis arbor we planted last year. Twelve-foot high shrubs will surround it to make it a private space. Connie suggested we make a straw bale couch – that is going to be cool, with mosaic tiles in an artistic pattern. It will look like an overstuffed sofa that you might have in your house. On each side are very fragrant rose bushes. I also plan to plant basil and other sweet smelling herbs. The lawn will be thyme. The shrubbery should keep down the wind so that the fragrances will collect to enthrall the senses.
I got almost five hours of sleep.
I can do this. I just don't much like it. It is very strange. It is rocky. But I remembered to take out the garbage this morning without Connie to remind me. (Or maybe she did?)
I've gone through all the family photos with the kids to find pictures of Connie for a slide show for the memorial service. Found some really great shots. One of them I'm going to ask my photographer JD Small to print and frame. I called him on Friday and asked for a print of the new photos that were taken of the family during Christmas. He made an 11x14 of the two of us and delivered it himself yesterday. He wouldn't take any money for it.
Connie hated to have her picture taken at a studio. I told her we were going to have a new family picture taken and she would just have to live with it. (Well, I guess she got the last word on that one, eh?) I wore a sweater she knitted for me about 30 years ago. Yesterday both Kendra and I were wearing sweaters she made for us.
I found a wonderful picture of Connie among the memories. It is now my favorite picture of her. I took it while we were in Toronto about 12 years ago celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. We visited the Allen Botanical Center where we had a personal restating of our marriage vows. The flowers were so fragrant! I told Connie I would be faithful to her and wanted another 25 years of marriage. Then we would reconsider our vows. She is an incredible vision in the picture. She did not believe that she was a beautiful woman. So many people have been telling me that she illuminated a room. She sure did! She glowed. What a powerful spirit she is.
Well, the tears are flowing.
Kendra and I went to her employer yesterday to clear out her desk. Kendra did it while were surrounded by people through the whole process. Her boss Dave went to lunch with us. He is stunned. He has always been quiet, but not this quiet. We had a nice lunch, and I told him that I strongly felt Connie's presence with us. "She is sitting right there," I told him. We went to a new restaurant across from the Capitol. The food server said they were out of seafood bisque when I ordered it, so I decided on the carrot soup. The server said someone had mixed the bisque accidentally with some of the other soup. I said that sounded good, could I have the mixture. "Really?" she said. So she brought it. I asked if the chef would share how he made the carrot soup, and he came to the table later and explained how to roast the vegetables and puree them to make a nice soup with any kind of vegetables. I told Dave I would like to spend time with him and meet for lunch again soon.
On the way home I realized he must hurt almost as much as I. After all, he spent almost as much time with Connie as I did. And she took care of him, too. He told me when we met at the office that he didn't know what he was going to do. He was planning to retire when Connie retired because he didn't want to work with anyone else. I called and left a message for him when I got home. I told him that I had only just begun to realize how much he must be hurting. I sent my prayers and support for him in his time of need. I am going to call him again today.
He was a great boss to her. She had worked for some really demanding and ungrateful bosses before him (I'm being kind and generous here.) I was talking to him about how much she had been discovering her true self over the past year. He said she had started becoming very up front in a pleasant and teasing way that was fun to be around.
I was talking with her last week while we were trying to figure out how to get her car to the garage for an oil change, get me to where I needed to be with a client and get her to work on time. She said, "I'll just be late." And I said, "Really?" "Oh yeah," she told me. I'm late to work all the time. "Wow," I said. "Connie Pyle is going to work late? And joking about it? You are really coming out, Babe!"
And she was. I told her that it was wonderful to see her true self emerging so strongly over the past year. She was beginning to recognize that she had needs and it was okay to take care of herself, instead of always focusing on the needs of others. My daughter Kendra told me that it was probably a good thing that Connie finished her work here and was moving on so we could take care of ourselves. She said she will have a hard time without her best friend. I told her I would like to be her best friend. Talking the first night, she shared some bad feelings she had had toward me growing up. She was concerned a little about saying it, and I told her she could say anything, literally anything, to me, and I hoped she would do so. In that way, we could grow even closer. We talked till after midnight last night until I was exhausted and had to go to bed.
And, I want to share this incredible email I got. I knew Connie had touched a lot of people, but I didn't realize I have done the same.
Dear Lion Jack
Words fail us when we want to express our deepest emotions, and your loss brings many, many folks to sadness and wishing we could do something to lighten your load. First Lady Linda and I bring you the sympathy of District 11 B2 during this devastating time.
The word sympathy cannot adequately express how we feel about the leader who has done so much for so many, to build better communications and stronger leadership in our pride of Lions. It is possible that you, sir, have personally impacted more individuals in the state, than any other single person, and now we want you to know that your family feels deeply for your loss.
May comfort come and may your strength be restored as you seek to comfort your loved ones.
Lions Hank and Linda
Day Five - February 7, 2006, 7:55 AM
(A note to the firm where Connie worked)
The flowers sent by the firm arrived yesterday. I have set up a display on our buffet and on the wall behind are pictures of Connie and a display of her art. The flowers have a prominent place. You are invited to come to our home after the memorial service and see it for yourself.
The flowers feature lavender roses that are exactly like ones Connie and I planted in a new spiritual garden I have been creating. I didn't realize it was going to be Connie's spiritual garden. It is a large arc spreading from the clematis arbor we planted last year. Twelve-foot high shrubs will surround it to make it a private space. Connie suggested we make a straw bale couch – that is going to be cool, with mosaic tiles in an artistic pattern. It will look like an overstuffed sofa that you might have in your house. On each side are very fragrant rose bushes. I also plan to plant basil and other sweet smelling herbs. The lawn will be thyme. The shrubbery should keep down the wind so that the fragrances will collect to enthrall the senses.
My Grieving Journey - Day Six - February 8, 2006
1:22 AM
[Email to Dave, a friend and one of my coaches] This is the shits, man. I just woke up feeling like I can't keep up this "good front" stuff much longer. I hurt. I could tell you saw right through me when we talked last night.
1:40 AM
"What becomes of the broken hearted?" This Motown song has been pulling at me for the past year or more. I couldn't seem to hear it enough. It was featured in the movie, “Standing in the Shadows of Motown,” and I have a CD of the music from the movie. Every time I played the CD, I would repeat this song several times. I listened to it over and over this morning and copied the lyrics. Now I know why it has been pulling at me. Just another example of how God and my guardian angels have been preparing me for Connie’s death.
As I walk this land of broken dreams,
I have visions of many things.
Happiness is just an illusion,
Filled with sadness and confusion.
What becomes of the broken hearted?
Who had love that's now departed?
I know I got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, Baby. [That's my special nickname for Connie.]
The roots of love go all around.
But for me they come tumbling down.
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger.
I can't stand this pain much longer.
I walk in shadows searching for light,
So alone, no comfort in sight,
Hoping and praying for someone who cares.
Always moving and going nowhere.
Copyright Motown
I'm crying, crying, crying. I know I will be okay, but I'm crying.
Speaking of crying, I've got to find the lyrics of that song, too (Crying by Roy Orbeson). It has been Connie's favorite for many, many years.
Kendra and I are going to try to get a musician friend of hers to sing "Peggy Sue" at the memorial, but change the lyrics to "Connie Sue."
Well, my dear friends, I'm feeling a little better now. I'm going to go listen to the broken hearted song a few dozen times and feel sorry for myself.
9:45 PM
I just got back from dinner with Kendra and friends. One of them asked me how I was doing. I said, "Well, I'm numb. I'm fatigued. I'm feeling strange. It's rocky. I'm not sleeping well, and I have no appetite. But other than that I'm fine.” : >)
It was a birthday dinner for Kendra and for a friend in Toastmasters, who is a good buddy to Kendra. I didn't want to go. I was really tired and numb. But it was Kendra's birthday and her mother just died, so I went. I sat with two women friends of Connie's and chatted up a storm. I got lots of energy back and had a good time. On the way home I asked Kendra if she noticed how much I talked all evening. She said she did. I told her I just figured it out. Connie wasn't there talking all the time. I could never get a word in when she was around. (I am exaggerating, but not too much.)
10:07 PM
[Email to my friends] I cried for about four hours last night and this morning listening to "What becomes of the broken hearted” over and over and looking at Connie’s pictures on the wall in the dining room . I want you to know I am surviving. I was going to say I'm okay, but I am not okay.
What I learned through the night (you should see the pile of facial tissues on the living room floor!) is that I should let the grieving take place. Dave, you gave that to me, though you didn't actually say it. You pointed the pathway, and I don't even know how. It just came to me after we talked.
Yes, I'm hurting. And it will continue to hurt. And I am going to let the hurt wash through me and help me to go on. And then I am going on.
I've thinking about adopting a 7-year-old Brittany spaniel. Kendra and I are going to drive to Wisconsin and give her a loving new home. Kendra told me about her. She belongs to a special friend in Wisconsin. When I come home I want unconditional love waiting for me. We decided to leave Monday and visit several of Kendra's friends in Minnesota and Wisconsin.
Well, lots to do. You are in my heart, and I feel the love pouring in from you.
[Email to Dave, a friend and one of my coaches] This is the shits, man. I just woke up feeling like I can't keep up this "good front" stuff much longer. I hurt. I could tell you saw right through me when we talked last night.
1:40 AM
"What becomes of the broken hearted?" This Motown song has been pulling at me for the past year or more. I couldn't seem to hear it enough. It was featured in the movie, “Standing in the Shadows of Motown,” and I have a CD of the music from the movie. Every time I played the CD, I would repeat this song several times. I listened to it over and over this morning and copied the lyrics. Now I know why it has been pulling at me. Just another example of how God and my guardian angels have been preparing me for Connie’s death.
As I walk this land of broken dreams,
I have visions of many things.
Happiness is just an illusion,
Filled with sadness and confusion.
What becomes of the broken hearted?
Who had love that's now departed?
I know I got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, Baby. [That's my special nickname for Connie.]
The roots of love go all around.
But for me they come tumbling down.
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger.
I can't stand this pain much longer.
I walk in shadows searching for light,
So alone, no comfort in sight,
Hoping and praying for someone who cares.
Always moving and going nowhere.
Copyright Motown
I'm crying, crying, crying. I know I will be okay, but I'm crying.
Speaking of crying, I've got to find the lyrics of that song, too (Crying by Roy Orbeson). It has been Connie's favorite for many, many years.
Kendra and I are going to try to get a musician friend of hers to sing "Peggy Sue" at the memorial, but change the lyrics to "Connie Sue."
Well, my dear friends, I'm feeling a little better now. I'm going to go listen to the broken hearted song a few dozen times and feel sorry for myself.
9:45 PM
I just got back from dinner with Kendra and friends. One of them asked me how I was doing. I said, "Well, I'm numb. I'm fatigued. I'm feeling strange. It's rocky. I'm not sleeping well, and I have no appetite. But other than that I'm fine.” : >)
It was a birthday dinner for Kendra and for a friend in Toastmasters, who is a good buddy to Kendra. I didn't want to go. I was really tired and numb. But it was Kendra's birthday and her mother just died, so I went. I sat with two women friends of Connie's and chatted up a storm. I got lots of energy back and had a good time. On the way home I asked Kendra if she noticed how much I talked all evening. She said she did. I told her I just figured it out. Connie wasn't there talking all the time. I could never get a word in when she was around. (I am exaggerating, but not too much.)
10:07 PM
[Email to my friends] I cried for about four hours last night and this morning listening to "What becomes of the broken hearted” over and over and looking at Connie’s pictures on the wall in the dining room . I want you to know I am surviving. I was going to say I'm okay, but I am not okay.
What I learned through the night (you should see the pile of facial tissues on the living room floor!) is that I should let the grieving take place. Dave, you gave that to me, though you didn't actually say it. You pointed the pathway, and I don't even know how. It just came to me after we talked.
Yes, I'm hurting. And it will continue to hurt. And I am going to let the hurt wash through me and help me to go on. And then I am going on.
I've thinking about adopting a 7-year-old Brittany spaniel. Kendra and I are going to drive to Wisconsin and give her a loving new home. Kendra told me about her. She belongs to a special friend in Wisconsin. When I come home I want unconditional love waiting for me. We decided to leave Monday and visit several of Kendra's friends in Minnesota and Wisconsin.
Well, lots to do. You are in my heart, and I feel the love pouring in from you.
My Grieving Journey - Day Seven - February 9, 2006
5:53 AM
I woke up today feeling REALLY good. I am at peace and full of joy. Wow, life is good.
I slept for six hours without waking up. Today I feel relaxed and comfortable about all that is happening in my life. I know that Connie hasn't left me. She will never leave me. And I know that she is happy for me and will continue to support me forever. And most importantly, I know that she is happy and peaceful, too. That means a lot. She earned it.
I have always believed that God created souls and then sent them out to experience physical life to gain knowledge and experiences so that they could become companions for a lonely God. I believe that it takes many lives in the physical world to gain enough experience to be a true companion.
I believe that souls decide what they want to work on while they are on earth. (Wow, here's a thought. God is the coach helping souls to clarify focus.) I'm not sure why, but I know that Connie decided she had to experience abuse while here. She was still being abused until a year ago by a very demanding and needy boss. One day she decided she had enough and requested that the company give her a new assignment. Her therapist and I were so proud of her for finally being able to say "Enough." And since then she had been finding her true self.
I have always believed that one of my missions in life was to help Connie heal. This week I also realized that one of Connie's missions was to help me heal. We have both healed a great deal over the past year. She completed her mission and is now with God, figuring out her next steps. I know she has a lot of work to do. She has always been an angel of mercy, helping others, without really taking care of herself until the past year. I'm so happy that she is taking care of herself now. And she is taking care of us, too, every morning, noon and night.
One of the women at dinner last night told us how Connie had come to visit her after she died.
I've been thinking all week about what to say at Connie's memorial celebration and have been making notes. One of my thoughts was that life is an adventure. An adventure is when you don't know the outcome. I am ready for my new adventure.
Connie and I have always been avid readers, but I have been unable to read until this morning. Here's a quote I found in the novel I'm reading. "Wasn't that half of what life was all about? Imagining possibilities and then following through on them?"
I figured out what I would say at the end of Connie's memorial: As you continue your life, be like Connie – take care of others. And also be like Connie learned to be over the past year. Care for yourself. Learn to love yourself and who you are. Enjoy the cathedral of the world around you. Love a child and let them become who they are. Express your creativity. Let the music of your life sing out. Celebrate life. And know that we are blessed because Connie was in our lives and will always be with us.
[Here’s an email I received February 9 at 6:34 PM]
Jack, I am finding my thoughts and heart are with you constantly as I move about my day. I want to call you and I hesitate, thinking that I will be disturbing you and your family or intruding. If you want a call, let me know a good time - if there is one. Art (my husband) and I have been going through a difficult time lately and for the past few days, I've been feeling rather shamed about my anger and bitchiness as I think about your precious wife's passing - and think how awful I'd feel if Art decided to leave suddenly... I'd regret having been so unloving. I've decided to show my love rather than my discontent without being false. I appreciate your sharing of your heart and am rather envious of your appreciation of your life partner. I've longed for that.
You and Connie have been constant companions in my thoughts this week and I've found myself tearing up as I'm driving to one meeting or another. I've tried to dial the phone a couple of times but put the phone down because I have this gigantic melon in my throat...I want to call and comfort you, after all, not present you with my sobbing or emotions. - So, dearest Jack, know that I want to just hold you - no words - just heart connection.
I know you are OK - she's told me so. I thank you for the pictures. She is so beautiful. My grandmother used to tell me that special souls died in their sleep. When adults would talk about people who died and said so-and-so died in their sleep, I told my grandma that I didn't want to die when I was asleep. She told me that it was OK to go to sleep and that only very special souls died in their sleep and that God would not take me in my sleep unless I told Him it was OK.
You are a very special man, Jack. It is a blessing and privilege to know you.
Love, Lorraine
Here’s an email I received February 9 at 7:56 PM]
Hey Jack, Thanks for the note. I was talking to Bea the morning after you and I spoke, and I told her: Jack Pyle is in BIG, BIG trouble – he so shocked he thinks he’s OK. So I’m very happy to hear that you are giving up the front. Be broken hearted and lost. Because you are! It will get better. But not for a while. But MUCH faster if you tell it like it is.
I’m here for you, Dave
[An email I sent to Dave on February 9, 2006, 9:32 PM]
Thank you so much for your thoughts, Dave. They really mean a lot to me. I've been so numb until today. And no doubt I will be numb again and again. But no matter what, I will grieve my loss and grieve again and again. This is tough, man.
We are planning a special wing ding to send Connie on her way both Saturday night for a special few and Sunday for a mob.
I've been doing a good job of delegating and not trying to do too much myself.
February 10, 9:32 PM
[Email] Yesterday I was filled with peace. Today hasn't been a good day, until the arrival of wonderful people and they have energized me.
I was out earlier today at the bookstore looking for books on grieving so I can understand this process. It was interesting. Lots of books have been written by widows. Lots of psychologists have written books. I found one by a Buddhist psychologist which I bought along with several others - one by a grandfather talking to his stillborn grandson. Wow! One of the things I learned by reading on the floor of the bookstore is that there really are not grieving "stages" that can be categorized. It's different for everyone.
I didn't find a single book by a man who lost his wife. I guess we guys have a problem talking about our feelings. So I have a book started with the emails to all of you. I am planning to start a grieving journal on my website, too.
While I was out shopping I got weak and nauseous and faint feeling. I quickly realized I hadn't eaten. So I bought books and music and went directly to a restaurant for tomato bisque and a ham salad sandwich, which made me feel better. And I got a call of support while I ate. I developed a headache and I felt numb. I needed to rest.
I was up at 2:30 AM and started cleaning out drawers. The kitchen desk drawer was filled with junk that my wife accumulated. I had cleaned it up several times, and she just threw in anything to get it hidden. Then my daughter started in on me. ’”You can't just throw away stuff, Dad. Where is it? I need to check it out.” So she recovered things and told me why they were important. She apologized for complaining to me. I said that she could tell me anything she wanted without worry about hurting my feelings. And, frankly, she was right to recover the things she did.
Anyway, I took some aspirin for this amazing headache I had, which didn't work and went to bed for awhile. I may have slept for 15 minutes or so. Then people started arriving and I revived from the energy they were sending. I'm still numb, but having a good time. I know this weekend is going to be a special memorable time in my life.
MUCH LATER…
The Celebration of the Life of Connie Sue Pyle has begun. The pre-party is going great. We set out a glass of lemonade for Connie. And she has already visited me alone on the patio. We had a VERY nice exchange, and I got a hug from her. I told her how I was going to end the public celebration of Connie tomorrow. Well, I must get back to the party.
STILL LATER…
Connie loved fireworks so we shot off $500 worth in her honor. Yoli started drumming at the campfire, and then others brought out percussion instruments. I’ve never heard such amazing drumming. I got my tambourine. I saw Rose, the mother of Kendra’s friend from high school, keeping time with a metal garbage can lid and a beer bottle. Matt started playing fiercely on the guitar and wailing out with his incredible voice. Wow!
I woke up today feeling REALLY good. I am at peace and full of joy. Wow, life is good.
I slept for six hours without waking up. Today I feel relaxed and comfortable about all that is happening in my life. I know that Connie hasn't left me. She will never leave me. And I know that she is happy for me and will continue to support me forever. And most importantly, I know that she is happy and peaceful, too. That means a lot. She earned it.
I have always believed that God created souls and then sent them out to experience physical life to gain knowledge and experiences so that they could become companions for a lonely God. I believe that it takes many lives in the physical world to gain enough experience to be a true companion.
I believe that souls decide what they want to work on while they are on earth. (Wow, here's a thought. God is the coach helping souls to clarify focus.) I'm not sure why, but I know that Connie decided she had to experience abuse while here. She was still being abused until a year ago by a very demanding and needy boss. One day she decided she had enough and requested that the company give her a new assignment. Her therapist and I were so proud of her for finally being able to say "Enough." And since then she had been finding her true self.
I have always believed that one of my missions in life was to help Connie heal. This week I also realized that one of Connie's missions was to help me heal. We have both healed a great deal over the past year. She completed her mission and is now with God, figuring out her next steps. I know she has a lot of work to do. She has always been an angel of mercy, helping others, without really taking care of herself until the past year. I'm so happy that she is taking care of herself now. And she is taking care of us, too, every morning, noon and night.
One of the women at dinner last night told us how Connie had come to visit her after she died.
I've been thinking all week about what to say at Connie's memorial celebration and have been making notes. One of my thoughts was that life is an adventure. An adventure is when you don't know the outcome. I am ready for my new adventure.
Connie and I have always been avid readers, but I have been unable to read until this morning. Here's a quote I found in the novel I'm reading. "Wasn't that half of what life was all about? Imagining possibilities and then following through on them?"
I figured out what I would say at the end of Connie's memorial: As you continue your life, be like Connie – take care of others. And also be like Connie learned to be over the past year. Care for yourself. Learn to love yourself and who you are. Enjoy the cathedral of the world around you. Love a child and let them become who they are. Express your creativity. Let the music of your life sing out. Celebrate life. And know that we are blessed because Connie was in our lives and will always be with us.
[Here’s an email I received February 9 at 6:34 PM]
Jack, I am finding my thoughts and heart are with you constantly as I move about my day. I want to call you and I hesitate, thinking that I will be disturbing you and your family or intruding. If you want a call, let me know a good time - if there is one. Art (my husband) and I have been going through a difficult time lately and for the past few days, I've been feeling rather shamed about my anger and bitchiness as I think about your precious wife's passing - and think how awful I'd feel if Art decided to leave suddenly... I'd regret having been so unloving. I've decided to show my love rather than my discontent without being false. I appreciate your sharing of your heart and am rather envious of your appreciation of your life partner. I've longed for that.
You and Connie have been constant companions in my thoughts this week and I've found myself tearing up as I'm driving to one meeting or another. I've tried to dial the phone a couple of times but put the phone down because I have this gigantic melon in my throat...I want to call and comfort you, after all, not present you with my sobbing or emotions. - So, dearest Jack, know that I want to just hold you - no words - just heart connection.
I know you are OK - she's told me so. I thank you for the pictures. She is so beautiful. My grandmother used to tell me that special souls died in their sleep. When adults would talk about people who died and said so-and-so died in their sleep, I told my grandma that I didn't want to die when I was asleep. She told me that it was OK to go to sleep and that only very special souls died in their sleep and that God would not take me in my sleep unless I told Him it was OK.
You are a very special man, Jack. It is a blessing and privilege to know you.
Love, Lorraine
Here’s an email I received February 9 at 7:56 PM]
Hey Jack, Thanks for the note. I was talking to Bea the morning after you and I spoke, and I told her: Jack Pyle is in BIG, BIG trouble – he so shocked he thinks he’s OK. So I’m very happy to hear that you are giving up the front. Be broken hearted and lost. Because you are! It will get better. But not for a while. But MUCH faster if you tell it like it is.
I’m here for you, Dave
[An email I sent to Dave on February 9, 2006, 9:32 PM]
Thank you so much for your thoughts, Dave. They really mean a lot to me. I've been so numb until today. And no doubt I will be numb again and again. But no matter what, I will grieve my loss and grieve again and again. This is tough, man.
We are planning a special wing ding to send Connie on her way both Saturday night for a special few and Sunday for a mob.
I've been doing a good job of delegating and not trying to do too much myself.
February 10, 9:32 PM
[Email] Yesterday I was filled with peace. Today hasn't been a good day, until the arrival of wonderful people and they have energized me.
I was out earlier today at the bookstore looking for books on grieving so I can understand this process. It was interesting. Lots of books have been written by widows. Lots of psychologists have written books. I found one by a Buddhist psychologist which I bought along with several others - one by a grandfather talking to his stillborn grandson. Wow! One of the things I learned by reading on the floor of the bookstore is that there really are not grieving "stages" that can be categorized. It's different for everyone.
I didn't find a single book by a man who lost his wife. I guess we guys have a problem talking about our feelings. So I have a book started with the emails to all of you. I am planning to start a grieving journal on my website, too.
While I was out shopping I got weak and nauseous and faint feeling. I quickly realized I hadn't eaten. So I bought books and music and went directly to a restaurant for tomato bisque and a ham salad sandwich, which made me feel better. And I got a call of support while I ate. I developed a headache and I felt numb. I needed to rest.
I was up at 2:30 AM and started cleaning out drawers. The kitchen desk drawer was filled with junk that my wife accumulated. I had cleaned it up several times, and she just threw in anything to get it hidden. Then my daughter started in on me. ’”You can't just throw away stuff, Dad. Where is it? I need to check it out.” So she recovered things and told me why they were important. She apologized for complaining to me. I said that she could tell me anything she wanted without worry about hurting my feelings. And, frankly, she was right to recover the things she did.
Anyway, I took some aspirin for this amazing headache I had, which didn't work and went to bed for awhile. I may have slept for 15 minutes or so. Then people started arriving and I revived from the energy they were sending. I'm still numb, but having a good time. I know this weekend is going to be a special memorable time in my life.
MUCH LATER…
The Celebration of the Life of Connie Sue Pyle has begun. The pre-party is going great. We set out a glass of lemonade for Connie. And she has already visited me alone on the patio. We had a VERY nice exchange, and I got a hug from her. I told her how I was going to end the public celebration of Connie tomorrow. Well, I must get back to the party.
STILL LATER…
Connie loved fireworks so we shot off $500 worth in her honor. Yoli started drumming at the campfire, and then others brought out percussion instruments. I’ve never heard such amazing drumming. I got my tambourine. I saw Rose, the mother of Kendra’s friend from high school, keeping time with a metal garbage can lid and a beer bottle. Matt started playing fiercely on the guitar and wailing out with his incredible voice. Wow!
My Grieving Journey - Day nine - February 11, 2006
5:32 AM
Yesterday was a pretty good day for me. I'm recovering pretty well I think, though I know the grief will continue to hit me hard. And I know that it will get easier as time passes. Connie is my guardian angel and is giving me a lot of support. We are still together.
I am wearing her wedding band. It's funny. She always held my hand too tight. I guess she didn't want to let me go. But I could only stand it for a while and would remove my hand from inside hers to put her hand in mine. Her ring fits perfectly on my pinkie. But you know what? I have never liked wearing rings before now. The ring feels too tight, and it's a good feeling because I know that Connie is still holding on tight to me.
Last night I was scheduled to give a speech at my Toastmasters group. The family said I should not go. But I wanted to practice saying some of the things about Connie that I will say on Sunday when we celebrate her life. I wasn't at all sure I would be able to talk without breaking down. The speech went very, very well. I didn't cry with my eyes; I was doing stealth crying. The tears were coming out my nose! : >))
[Email from a friend February 11, 2006]
Good morning Jack, I am impressed with your ability to move along with your heart, as well as with your head. I am glad that you do allow your heart to guide you. I know that Connie is always going to be with you, always going to be additional guidance for you. I love it that you are wearing her ring!
I'm praying for you my friend, and I have added you to our prayer list. You are being prayed for by the most gentile folks, for whatever it is you need at any given moment.
I have to also tell you that through your writings each day, I am growing, I am learning about grace in the moments, about tenderness, truth, pain, guardian angels, and of course love.
Thank you for sharing your heart.
Know that Bruce and I are happy to have you for a visit should you need a getaway... Austin sure is a nice place to get away to should you ever need it...
Kathryn
[Email from a friend, February 13, 2006]
Jack, I want you to know it heals us as it heals you to share your journey with us. It strengthens and deepens our consciousness and our gratefulness for all that is.
Thank you. And call when it all settles down there, and you need a distant friend to reach out to.
Kristen
[Email from a friend, February 15, 2006]
Dear Jack, I was stunned to hear of Connie's sudden passing. My condolences go out to you and your children. Having observed the bond between you and Connie when you lived in California, I have a sense of the enormous vacuum this must leave in your heart. Connie was a rare jewel, a precious original and although the time we spent together was brief, it has never been forgotten, such was her mark on another's life. To me, she will always exemplify an arms-opened-wide love of learning and experiencing life. You will be in my prayers as you heal and continue to grow and learn, because like Connie, I remember you as living in joy with an expectation of good.
With Love, Heather
Yesterday was a pretty good day for me. I'm recovering pretty well I think, though I know the grief will continue to hit me hard. And I know that it will get easier as time passes. Connie is my guardian angel and is giving me a lot of support. We are still together.
I am wearing her wedding band. It's funny. She always held my hand too tight. I guess she didn't want to let me go. But I could only stand it for a while and would remove my hand from inside hers to put her hand in mine. Her ring fits perfectly on my pinkie. But you know what? I have never liked wearing rings before now. The ring feels too tight, and it's a good feeling because I know that Connie is still holding on tight to me.
Last night I was scheduled to give a speech at my Toastmasters group. The family said I should not go. But I wanted to practice saying some of the things about Connie that I will say on Sunday when we celebrate her life. I wasn't at all sure I would be able to talk without breaking down. The speech went very, very well. I didn't cry with my eyes; I was doing stealth crying. The tears were coming out my nose! : >))
[Email from a friend February 11, 2006]
Good morning Jack, I am impressed with your ability to move along with your heart, as well as with your head. I am glad that you do allow your heart to guide you. I know that Connie is always going to be with you, always going to be additional guidance for you. I love it that you are wearing her ring!
I'm praying for you my friend, and I have added you to our prayer list. You are being prayed for by the most gentile folks, for whatever it is you need at any given moment.
I have to also tell you that through your writings each day, I am growing, I am learning about grace in the moments, about tenderness, truth, pain, guardian angels, and of course love.
Thank you for sharing your heart.
Know that Bruce and I are happy to have you for a visit should you need a getaway... Austin sure is a nice place to get away to should you ever need it...
Kathryn
[Email from a friend, February 13, 2006]
Jack, I want you to know it heals us as it heals you to share your journey with us. It strengthens and deepens our consciousness and our gratefulness for all that is.
Thank you. And call when it all settles down there, and you need a distant friend to reach out to.
Kristen
[Email from a friend, February 15, 2006]
Dear Jack, I was stunned to hear of Connie's sudden passing. My condolences go out to you and your children. Having observed the bond between you and Connie when you lived in California, I have a sense of the enormous vacuum this must leave in your heart. Connie was a rare jewel, a precious original and although the time we spent together was brief, it has never been forgotten, such was her mark on another's life. To me, she will always exemplify an arms-opened-wide love of learning and experiencing life. You will be in my prayers as you heal and continue to grow and learn, because like Connie, I remember you as living in joy with an expectation of good.
With Love, Heather
My Grieving Journey - February 12, 2006
Connie’s memorial celebration is today. We left the house finally about 11:30 AM to get ready for the 2 PM Celebration of the Life of Connie Sue Pyle. Steve from next door came by with his van and picked up our boxes of materials. I rode over to the hall with Homcara and John. Steve and Gary (another neighbor) set up the 4x8 display unit Steve made. It was a 4x8 panel with a 2x8 shelf – perfect. Then as we started hanging photos and Connie’s art works, it was clear that we needed more space. Steve added three-foot-long 2x4s at the top to allow large paintings to be hung beside the display.
Elaine and Donna from Toastmasters arranged the food that they and others provided. Elaine and her husband were troopers. Elaine made the food counter look beautiful.
We placed an eight-foot table near the entrance. It had a sign I made which said: “Stones by Nature. Stones personally selected by Connie. Please take one as her memento.” I told people as I took them to the table that Connie had licked each one to see its true color, so they were personalized further by her DNA.
The display board that Steve built had a sign that read:
CELEBRATE GALLERY
Artist Reception
CS Pyle
Michigan Artist
Mixed Media
On it was the recent photo of Connie and me from JD Small, as well as photos of Connie, and her framed watercolors, batiks, and mixed media art. A beautiful flower display sent by Chris and Chuck in Chicago sat beside the nearly completed mosaic of a cat standing on a blue mosaic pillow Connie had been working on. Beside the display were several eight-foot tables of Connie’s art through the years: watercolor portraits, classroom art projects (she got 21 out of 21 points on each one. The instructor had a note on one that said she wished she had 16 more students like Connie), sweaters she knitted, my wolf cross-stitched on a sweatshirt, clothing she created and dolls she made.
Connie’s sister Tina had worked hours on a display of photos that included her children Rachel and Megan in Halloween costumes and Renaissance dresses Connie had made through the years, as well as other photos and memorabilia.
There must have been 300 people who attended the event – 25-30 from Connie’s law firm and 20 or so Lions from all over the state. One told me he had not seen so many District Governors and other Lion leaders in one place except at their Council meetings. I was so touched by the turnout! In trying to talk to as many as possible, I could only spend moments with each one. It was a blur in my mind later. I forgot to get a guest book, so I will have to later try to figure out who was there with the help of others.
It was quite a party! We started with a drumming session and parade. I was dancing with the group, all smiles and touching people in the crowd. Some probably thought I was a lunatic! When it was done, I went to the microphone and said: “Do you get it yet? We have been grieving Connie for a week, and now it’s time to party and celebrate the life of a remarkable woman.”
Elaine and Donna from Toastmasters arranged the food that they and others provided. Elaine and her husband were troopers. Elaine made the food counter look beautiful.
We placed an eight-foot table near the entrance. It had a sign I made which said: “Stones by Nature. Stones personally selected by Connie. Please take one as her memento.” I told people as I took them to the table that Connie had licked each one to see its true color, so they were personalized further by her DNA.
The display board that Steve built had a sign that read:
CELEBRATE GALLERY
Artist Reception
CS Pyle
Michigan Artist
Mixed Media
On it was the recent photo of Connie and me from JD Small, as well as photos of Connie, and her framed watercolors, batiks, and mixed media art. A beautiful flower display sent by Chris and Chuck in Chicago sat beside the nearly completed mosaic of a cat standing on a blue mosaic pillow Connie had been working on. Beside the display were several eight-foot tables of Connie’s art through the years: watercolor portraits, classroom art projects (she got 21 out of 21 points on each one. The instructor had a note on one that said she wished she had 16 more students like Connie), sweaters she knitted, my wolf cross-stitched on a sweatshirt, clothing she created and dolls she made.
Connie’s sister Tina had worked hours on a display of photos that included her children Rachel and Megan in Halloween costumes and Renaissance dresses Connie had made through the years, as well as other photos and memorabilia.
There must have been 300 people who attended the event – 25-30 from Connie’s law firm and 20 or so Lions from all over the state. One told me he had not seen so many District Governors and other Lion leaders in one place except at their Council meetings. I was so touched by the turnout! In trying to talk to as many as possible, I could only spend moments with each one. It was a blur in my mind later. I forgot to get a guest book, so I will have to later try to figure out who was there with the help of others.
It was quite a party! We started with a drumming session and parade. I was dancing with the group, all smiles and touching people in the crowd. Some probably thought I was a lunatic! When it was done, I went to the microphone and said: “Do you get it yet? We have been grieving Connie for a week, and now it’s time to party and celebrate the life of a remarkable woman.”
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