Dealing with Grief

My sister-in-law, Molly, passed away on Saturday, August 18th. It's been a brutally tough time for my family. Molly was "fine" before Thursday, July 19th when she went to the doctor with a headache and some back pain. The next thing we know, after some tests were conducted, is that she has tumors all over her brain and lung cancer. By that Sunday, July 22nd she was pretty much bed-ridden. Shortly after that, she had seizures and lost sight in one of her eyes and never left the hospital again. She passed away on August 18th holding hands with my wife and her parents. Jeb, Bo, and I were en route at the Utica exit on I-80 to say our goodbyes as she died.

It's been tough to deal with the sadness. Molly was only 56 years old. This all happened so fast. She leaves behind Kate, her 18-year old daughter, who graduated from Skutt this past May.

Personally, I'm as sad as I've ever been. I loved Molly. She was a sister to me. She was an amazing and kind person that everyone felt good around. She was special. She really was. When you factor in how hard it is to see how devastated my wife is it gets even harder. Liesl and Molly were close. They were eachother's only sisters. Molly was always there for Liesl. She isn't anymore.

It's hard to wake up each day knowing Molly isn't there. It's harder to wake up each day and see your wife dealing with the fact Molly isn't there anymore either. Then, you throw in how much my kids miss Molly and it's hard to process at times. It's tough to see the toll it takes on my mother and father-in-law, my sister-in-law, and brothers-in-law, my nieces and nephew, and especially Kate.

I know our grief isn't unique. Way too many families lose loved ones every day. To cancer. To suicide. To accidents. We're not special. We know that. This feeling of loss is too common for too many.

I've lost loved ones before. All four of my grand-parents have died since 1995. They all lived well into their 70's to 90's so it was easier to process than losing Molly at 56 within a month of being diagnosed. Molly's death just feels different.

I would give anything if Molly was still with us.

Speaking at her Rosary on August 22nd was the most difficult thing I've ever done. I've given thousands of speeches and talks but not that meant as much as that one. I wanted to be anywhere else in the world doing anything else than saying goodbye to Molly.

Molly is gone. I know that. The holidays will be brutal without her. We will do our best to wrap Kate in love and support and that makes us all feel a little better about "helping out" and having a sense of "purpose" in the memory of Molly.

We are trying to be normal. We are trying to be happy. We are staying busy. We will get back to normal at some point, whatever normal is anymore. Thanks for all of the support.