In May of 1995, I suddenly lost my first wife and mother of my two daughters, Jody to a very rare illness called a pheochromacytoma. All of this transpired within 24 hours. It felt like a horrible dream.
I visualized my girls and I doing things together and I saw them thriving. Those were my daily images, only positive outcomes. I found comfort in books like Kubler Ross’s “On Death and Dying,” Hope Edelman’s “Motherless Daughter’s” & Cosby’s “Fatherhood.”
I learned first hand what being grateful for life and those we love, truly means. I worked very hard at balancing what was normal for my girls and not ignoring the death of their Mother. Julia, Lauren and I hugged and cried every day. I made certain that they knew emotionally, that we had one another.
If I sensed they were going into a shell, I would try to interact and relate to them by asking them questions about friends, clothes, school etc. I made it a point to do everything as a family. We went grocery shopping together, out for ice cream and had them help make dinner on a regular basis. I wanted them to feel secure and know their Dad wasn’t going anywhere.
Over time, I had developed insomnia. The sudden absence of Jody in our bed, left me awake until late hours of the night, reading, watching TV and just thinking. My heart and soul felt so empty and I wondered if I would ever feel whole again.
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