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Every Year I Forget My Own Anniversary
Dan and I were married on March 4, 2008. The ceremony was performed in a limousine driving up and down the Las Vegas Strip (yes, it all happened seated inside the limo.) Nick and Amanda, Dan’s adult children, were the only guests. It was absolutely perfect!! But since I lost Dan, I have never remembered, on March 4, that my wedding anniversary is on March 4. The only exception is during that first year of grieving, where I went out to dinner with a friend that evening, and in a lovely surprise gesture, another friend called up the restaurant and paid for it. It is a good memory, my friends…
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Dan’s Last Texts
I do not understand how it’s been five years since Dan died. My first thought is that somehow, I don’t know how, I have managed to survive for five years without him. After that, I think, I don’t know how I got through the pain, but I did because I am here. Then I realize that not only did I survive, I have thrived. Yes, I have suffered terrible sadness and loneliness and unbearable grief, but I have also been very happy, and deeply loved, and unconditionally supported by so many wonderful people. But even five years later, I still can’t make sense of the dichotomy of these circumstances. I…
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The Most Stressful Time Of The Year
The fact is, the holidays are very stressful. Even if you don’t manifest your stress in illness, like I apparently do, it can be an overwhelming time for so many of us. It never hurts any of us to minimize stress regardless. Here’s my plan, it’s not too late to join me!
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The Value of Quick Emergency Response
Call the aid car, babe When Dan Potts says call the aid car, you call the aid car. I called 911 right away. At that point we were six months from me calling 911 for the second time, an ambulance ride from which he was not to return home. But we didn’t know that. All I knew that day, as his wife, was that he was lying there in enough pain to ask for help. Dan Potts was the proudest and strongest person I’ve ever known, and he never needed—or asked—for help. But today he did.
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Life’s second chances
“The afternoon knows what the morning never expected.”—Robert Frost About three weeks after Dan died, I went down the FIVE Restaurant, one of my “safe” places. I met this woman there, with whom I shared my story over (several) glasses of wine. I’ll never forget, she looked at me and said, “You’ve known a great love. You’ll know another.” I couldn’t even imagine it, at that time. All I wanted was Dan Potts back, alive and well. It was the worst and most painful experience of my life grieving the death of my husband. And I was hurting. Bad. I knew somehow people had survived this so I thought I…
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The Healing Table
It was a Friday morning and I woke up alone. My beloved husband had passed away the afternoon before at the University of Washington Medical Center and the friend who had spent Thursday night with me left for work before I awoke. My clients were canceled, and it was the first day of the rest of my new life that I didn’t ask for and certainly didn’t want. I didn’t know what to do. The house was so silent, empty and awfully lonely. I am not surprised that as I have always done in times of stress and turmoil, I turned to exercise. I left the house and started walking…
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This Too Shall Pass
Happy New Year to our Edmonds community and readers of this column! I’m glad to be back in the Edmonds Fitness Corner. It’s been about six months since my column has appeared for My Edmonds News. Some of you may remember that I lost my husband Coach Dan Potts last January, and I wrote last February about exercising through grief. Subsequently, last year went on to be the most difficult of my life, and although I religiously exercised my way through it, there were plenty of other parts of my life that fell by the wayside, including writing. It felt like I barely kept my head above water. They say…
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A Guide To Exercising Through Grief
Recently I lost my husband and my entire life changed in an instant. I am struggling to make sense of how my life looks and feels on a daily basis, and I wonder every day about the future that stretches ahead of me like a desolate empty road. That’s what it feels like, anyway. They keep telling me only time will heal this heartache. In the meantime, I am supposed to go on living somehow. Besides the love and support of my family and friends, there are only two things keeping me grounded and functioning: working and exercising. In a crisis, the energy to exercise may disappear entirely. People have…
