The Measure Of My Mother
As a daughter, there were always three sure things in my life. Death, taxes and the deep, passionate love my parents have always had for each other. So it seems fitting that every year my parents’ May 11th wedding anniversary occurs near Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. Because from my perspective, they are who they are as individuals and parents, then and now, because of their love, their commitment, their devotion to, and their bond with each other, first and foremost. Although their marriage has not always been easy, their love transcended all circumstances and has always been the solid foundation of our family dynamic. But this year, my mother…
Make Every Holiday Moment Count
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” ― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities If this sounds like Pandemic Holiday Season 2020 (or all of 2020,) I could not agree more! But it also reminds me so much of Husband Dying of Cancer Holiday Season 2013. As I wrote shortly after this crisis started, there are…
A Tale of Two Widows
The other day I was scrolling Facebook when I came across a post that knocked the breath out of me. My neighbor Amy had unexpectedly lost her husband a few days previously. I was in shock and disbelief. It’s one of those things that you hear about and can’t believe it; that your brain struggles to make sense of before eventually giving up because it simply cannot process how this could ever happen. I met Amy at a neighborhood get together shortly after we moved into the neighborhood. She and I hit it off. She immediately and warmly reached out to me repeatedly, making me feel so included, something I…
The Hug
Today is the 6th anniversary of the day my late husband Dan’s life was taken by prostate cancer. He has now been gone longer than we were married. I knew this day was coming as time relentlessly marches on, but it doesn’t sit well with me. ❤️ We had to go through so much to be together and when we were together we went through so much. It was worth everything. ❤️ Our last full-on hug, like this hug, was in the ICU with Dan’s kids standing on either side of him to support him so we could put our arms around each other. I am so grateful for that…
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…
Living On Through Social Media
I was scrolling through my Facebook friend list looking for someone, when I realized that I have four Facebook friends that are deceased yet their accounts are still active. Dan, my late husband, has one of those active accounts. I can’t bring myself to close his account. We talked about it, a discussion triggered by a fascinating article in Reader’s Digest (one guy lost his wife in childbirth and literally closed her account as soon as he got home from the hospital!) I could never do that, but everyone is different. I asked Dan, and he said yes, he did want me to close his account if something happened to…
Dan’s Divot Tool
There’s this tool used in golf called a divot tool. You carry it in your pocket. When your ball lands on the green, it will often leave an indentation called a ball mark in the carefully groomed grass of the green. It’s good golf etiquette to find and fix your ball mark as soon as you reach the green. My ball hardly ever lands on the green so I don’t fix many divots. But the first thing I put in my pocket when I go golfing is a well-used, scuffed, burnished divot tool. You see, it belonged to my late husband, Dan Potts, and he loved that thing (and he…
Reflections on Loss
I questioned myself as to whether I ought to write yet more about this topic, for a column titled “Edmonds Fitness Corner.” After two years, people might be wondering, is she ever going to get over it? But really, the answer is no. It just doesn’t work like that. I have adapted, changed, grown, learned to manage the most unpleasant of feelings, but there will never be closure. After two years I’m sensing a pattern—that this part of each year will be the most difficult for me regarding my husband’s death. The holidays are stressful enough for most of us, but are even more poignant with the loss of a…
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…
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…
