The goodbyes….

One year ago, I said good bye to my Uncle Jeff. He was also my Godfather and the one that I chose to walk me down the aisle at my wedding. I stood by his bed with my hand on his chest and felt his last heartbeat. We’ve all lost people in our lives. The older we get, the more we lose. I can recall talking to my Grandmother, Winnie Ma before she died about these losses that just continue to come and she said, “Honey, you never get over them” She spoke the truth. No matter who we are, no matter how old we live to be, most of us are forced to live life at some point without someone we love. That is my story of Jeff.

He was the Uncle I adored. He was the one always ready for an adventure and always ready to take me on it with him. He never had children of his own so his nieces & nephews were his surrogate children. He was strong, adventurous and a handy man with tools. There wasn’t a machine or device made that he couldn’t repair or create. He actually made a career out of a hobby. He liked to tinker with engines and when a start up company came to Memphis that needed workers for their airplanes, he joined the team. During his 30+ year tenure he went from handling the screwdrivers to answering the phones. Anytime I’d call when he was working, “MOCC … this is Jeff”. That’s slang for Maintenance Operations Control Center at Fed Ex. He was the liason between Fed Ex and Boeing. His career came in handy… as a terrified air traveler, he would always attempt to explain to me that flying is the safest form of travel and that there were numerous redundencies in any airplane system. If one system failed they had 23 others to step up and keep the plane in the air. I’d listen, but the truth is… it wasn’t the systems I was worried about. It was whether or not the bolts holding the wings on were tight enough and no system of redundency is going to guarantee the success of that bolt. He’d laugh and tell me to take a Xanax. Honestly, for the past 20 years that little white pill has been more of a necessity for my travels than an overnight bag or a toothbrush. My roommates refuse to fly with me unless I’m medicated. They know as we walk out the door for the airport the all important question…. Do you have your meds? I’m one of those travelers that you DON’T want to sit next to. I don’t hog the armrest or snore loudly, but I will break your fingers when I grab your hand as we hit turbulence. Jeff was the opposite. He enjoyed air travel because he knew the parts and the velocity/ lift equations. He understood all of that and had faith in the system.

When someone that we love dies, we all deal with the sadness in a different way. I’ve lost people that I loved dearly and my method of dealing with grief is unique to me just as yours is unique to you. All of the self help books about dealing with loss start with… “There is no correct way to deal with grief. It’s a personal journey.” That statement basically means to me…you can keep reading if you want, but this book isn’t gonna get you where you want to be. You have to get there yourself. You have to get up, brush your teeth, eat food, continue living life. You can say in your mind, “that’s what Jeff would want me to do” but the truth is sometimes you just want to curl up in a ball and NOT do any of it. Facing life without sharing it with someone you love is hard. It’s very hard. Sadness for me has come in waves. One minute I’m fine and the next, it’s like I’m covered by water and can’t seem to find the surface. It’s been a year since Jeff died and the waves are less frequent but they are still there. They will always be there. There are moments or events that I think, I need to tell Jeff about my latest escapade, only to be reminded that I can’t. That’s where my faith has to take over. I have to believe that he still sees them and although he’s not physically able to laugh or share advice with me, he’s still there in my mind and my heart.

I delivered the eulogy at his funeral. Honestly, I don’t know how I did it. I wrote the words and I stood in front of the church and read them, but it was a miracle that I actually did it. I believe in a higher power and I believe that I had the strength to do it because I had help. One of the stories I told that day was about Jeff helping me with a project around the house. He was always my “Go To” person when it came to projects. I am what you would describe as completely UN-handy when it comes to household projects and my roommates are no better in that department. I own 2 screwdrivers and 1 hammer so there’s not alot of construction going on around here. One day, I decided to change out all of the overhead lights upstairs. I went to Home Depot and bought them. The box clearly said, 1 screwdriver needed to install so, I thought I’d hit the jackpot! I headed home to the empty house, laid out the instructions, grabbed my screwdriver and realized immediately I had a problem. The new lights looked pretty easy to install, but how in the world do I remove the old lights? I took a picture of the light with my phone, texted it to Jeff and called. I asked, “Did you see the picture I sent you? How do I get these lights disconnected?”. I put him on speakerphone, climbed up the ladder with my flashlight in hand and his voice guided me through the project. He told me how to remove the wiring, move the insulation and take the light down. That day, Jeff and I replaced 11 lights upstairs with his voice guiding me through the project. To this day, every time I turn those lights on/off… I think of him. Of all the insane things that people leave us with memories of… mine are lights in the hallway.

The memories that we have of our loved ones, some good some bad are what get us through our grief. I have a million more of Jeff because in my 50 years of life on this planet, he was a constant. His death was shocking to say the least. He was healthy, active, strong…. it just turned out that he had a tumor in his brain that grew at lightning speed. We had 59 days to deal with his prognosis before he died. Some people don’t even get that and some get more. People die suddenly in car wrecks and we have zero warning while others like my Grandmother had the long goodbye. She stayed with us 2 years after realistically she shouldn’t have been able to. In those 2 years, I spent hours and hours with her. Talking, laughing & playing Yatzhee (she cheated ALOT… & she would want me to tell you that). During our talks, she would try to help me understand that life will go on after she is gone. She buried 11 siblings, 2 parents, 1 spouse, 1 daughter and countless numbers of friends. She knew all about sadness and loss. She told me that you’ll always hear the voices in your head of those you love. She was right. I still hear her voice and Jeff’s. They are always with me in my daily life. Sometimes they guide me and sometimes they irritate me when they are saying things I don’t want to hear.

To any of you out there that have lost someone you love… I’m sorry. I know the pain and I know the sadness. I would never attempt to say that mine is worse because I don’t believe it is and IF it is, it’s certainly not a contest I want to win. It doesn’t matter who you’ve lost, you miss them, you always will… I know that I do.