A Year Since You Passed

Jennifer Engel
January 26th, 1973 - January 18th, 2013

I miss you Jen.

One year ago, I held you through that last night, until I could tell that you weren’t with me anymore. 

I wish I could hold you again, just for a moment.  Just a single moment. I’d give everything just for a single moment.

But a year later I've learned you’re still here, somehow.  There have been too many coincidences, too many chance happenings to explain any other way.  Two years ago I would have laughed at someone making that statement. But now, I know.  I know with certainty, you are still here. 

I hope you’re proud of your girls: how Sydney is growing into a young lady; how Kristin is still the kindest, sweetest heart; how Natalie is blossoming academically; and how we’ve gotten stronger through the adversity.  I hope you see I’m doing the best I can bringing them up the way we would have together.

They’re so much like you.  I can see you in their eyes, their smile, or something they do every day.  And it breaks my heart, because I know where it came from.

They miss their Mom. I miss my Wife.  

12 months
or 365 days 
or 8,760 hours
or 525,600 minutes
or 31,536,000 seconds
or too many moments to count

I've counted the passage of time by each of these at some point in the last 12 months.  Sometimes I told myself I just needed to make it through the day.  Other times I simply tried to make it to the next moment without breaking down.  I’ve managed to make it through them one by one to get here, even if a great many of those moments have been in tears.

One of the things I used to say to myself in those horrible first few weeks after you passed was, "In a year, you'll be fine.  You'll have adapted and healed gotten to a point where you aren't such an emotional and mental wreck."  Well, to a certain extent that's true.  But I had no idea the route back to happiness and "normalcy" would be this long.  In a year, I've healed but there is so much more left to go.  I’m still an emotional wreck and have to hide every now and then, lest people see how raw things still are.  Because, even a year later, there are times when the sorrow just takes over.

The say you never really get over the loss of your spouse, you just learn to navigate around it.

The sorrow is still a fixture in my waking hours. It's always there, it's a tangible presence that I can feel. I can step into it anytime I want to. And I do step into it, on purpose, on occasion. I do it because on a certain level I feel I have to. That by doing so I somehow validate the love that you and I had for each other. If I don't then it almost feels like I'm discounting you and our relationship. 
  
In those last days I was struggling to find the courage to face, at least what I believed, to be inevitable.  There were no more options left, and it was time to stop running.  In a quiet moment with no one else in the room You turned to me, and with all your effort just to speak said,  "I can't do this anymore." It was the saddest moment of my life.  We didn't know it, but we only had 14 hours left at that point.  Even now, 12 months later, remembering that moment brings me to my knees. 

I still feel guilty sometimes about agreeing with you so quickly. That maybe if I protested or showed more strength then you would have changed your mind.  But I've come to realize that thought is selfish. You clearly were at the end of your endurance and it was your courage that allowed you to say it was time.  Any more time that you struggled and endured would have been purely for the Girls and I.  No, it was time.  And you called it.  I can only hope that when my time comes I can face it with half the courage and strength you did.

In the bottom of an old pond lived some grubs who could not understand why none of their group ever came back after crawling up the stems of the lilies to the top of the water.  They promised each other that the next one who was called to make the upward climb would return and tell what happened to him.  Soon, one of them felt an urgent impulse to seek the surface; he rested himself on top of the lily pad and went through a glorious transformation which made him a dragonfly with beautiful wings.  In vain he tried to keep his promise.  Flying back and forth over the pond, he peered down at his friends below.  Then he realized that even if they could see him they would not recognize such a radiant creature as one of their number.

The fact that we cannot see our loved ones or communicate with them after the transformation, which we call death, is no proof they cease to exist.    

Goodnight sweetheart.  I love you, and we’ll see each other again, sometime.  I’m sure of it.

How we're making it through

This time of the year marks the 1st holidays we’ve gone through without Jen.   Thanksgiving, Christmas, Our anniversary, New Years, Jen’s Passing, and Jen’s birthday all fall within a two month window.  Yes, it’s been tough.  Very tough.  And In the next weeks, I’ll post how we’ve done and what we’ve been going through. 

However, recently I was asked by some very good friends how I've been able to keep it all going (LLFF classes, gymnastics, scouts, dinners, etc).  The answer is I don't have it all together, no single parent does.  But, there are a few key things, mental and physical, that provide the framework for how we operate as a family.  After I related all of these things, they thought that others might find it useful.  So In that vein I’ll post them here.  Maybe it will help out some single parents out there.  I absolutely don’t want to make it seem like I’ve got it all figured out.  But here’s some of the structure that allows us to make it through:

Putting my Kids ahead of work
It’s the old cliche, “I put my family ahead of my work.”  I’ve always said that, but my actions didn’t always reflect it.  Now, I mean it.  Truth is that a lot of appointments, consultations, and childcare issues have to be addressed during business hours.  This is in direct conflict with my role at work, and it’s one of the biggest adjustments I’ve needed to make.  I’m the only parent now.  That’s the stark reality.  If I don’t take care of things, if I don’t get the girls to these appointments, then who will?  I’ve made a conscious decision to default towards my family.

Is it easy? Nope.  I want to get ahead.  I want to prove that I can and do execute every day.  I want to make it to those after hour team bonding events.  Stopping at 4:30 everyday so that I can get home and start my other job, doesn’t make that easy.  But it’s what I decided to do.  When I see how much the girls like a healthy dinner, or how much they enjoy the activities we do, or I get those hugs… I know I’ve made the right choice.  Have I limited my career? Maybe.  But as much as I like my employer, and feel honored to work for them, it’s my family who will be there in those final days.  

Constant reminders
I’ve made it a point to put a scheduled hard stop in my public work schedule at 4:30 every day.  I don’t miss it.  I don’t question it.  Sure, I’ve gotten caught in a pediconference on my way out the door now and then, but I make it a point to get out the door at that time every day.  When people see that hard stop in my schedule, they usually respect it.  

Allowing myself to fail once in a while.
I am harder on myself that anyone else.  Extremely hard.  And I don’t like making mistakes.  But one of the biggest things I’ve had to come to grips with the fact the I can’t do it all perfectly.  Sometimes I can’t do something as well as I wanted.  Yes, to most people that is such a truism, that you probably chuckled.  But in those first few months, I thought that I was somehow called to be a hero.  Somehow I was to handle all this, work and family, in stride and without issue.  To drop the ball on anything was to fall short.  That absolute thinking caused me a lot of pain.  Since then I’ve become gentler on myself.  I’ve come to realize that I can’t possibly do it all without mistakes now and then.  I get stressed out.  I miss something now and then. But now I don’t beat myself up over it.  It’s taken quite a bit of soul searching and counseling to get to this point. 

Evernote,  iCal, and technology  (aka my external brain)
I admit, my short term memory is shot.  Utterly useless.  I'm not sure if that's a function of my stress, the depression, or the shear amount of stuff I have to stay on top of.  How do I keep track of it?  How do I know exactly what oil filter I need for my lawn tractor, then while waiting at the counter for that filter, scan ahead for open schedule, and then book an oil change for the car at the dealership? Easy.  That's just an Evernote, iCal, Autostar combo.  The amount of stuff I can do simultaneously is not only getting larger, it’s required.  So in order to accomplish this, in order to do all we do, I have to use technology.  (Most of) My relatives laugh and scratch their heads, believing it all to be a house of cards that they wouldn't trust.  Your parents said the same thing to computers.  Welcome to the ever changing world. 

Evernote:
I store everything in here. EVERYTHING .  Your birthday is in here.  What I'm getting you for Christmas next year is in here.  All the girls scouting info, school info, sizes, hobbies .etc.  It's in here.  My screenplay ideas, my to do list, my posts, my recipies, the makes and models of all my appliances and home systems. it's in here.   And I can recall it in seconds, on my phone, BOOM.  I had non-tech ask me "SO what happens when you lose that phone?" thinking that they had me.  I answered "As soon as I have a new phone I'll load up the evernote app, log in and recall anything in seconds.”   welcome to the cloud.

iCal and iCloud
"If I can see it, we can make it."  You've probably heard me say that.   I have 4 calendars in iCloud: 

1. a central Engel calendar which has all of our individual events, prefixed with S K N or C (for Sydney, Kristin, Natalie, or Chris)
2. a finance calendar that reminds me of certain financial in or outs that I must deal with regularly
3. a meal planning calendar that I plan out the meals for the next week.
4. an archery shoots calendar that has all of the archery events I want to make it to in the future

All of these are made public with a corresponding URL.  That way I can overlay my family schedule on my work schedule at work (in Outlook).  At a glance I can see everything.  People have asked "You've made these public?  Aren’t you afraid that someone else will see that?”  Hmmmm.  There was a moment there where I was afraid that someone would see that we had spaghetti two weeks in a row, but then I thought "Who cares".  Seriously, it would be an honor to have someone think that this was important enough stuff to follow.  

Planning meals
I'm a working single father, and I don't like having my Girls eat fast food.  Two very competing circumstances.  So, if we're going to eat at home, we can't wait until I get home and figure out what we're having.  Most days, dinner has started in the slow cooker just before we leave the house.  The main dish is ready when I walk through the door.  Heat up some rolls or bread, steam some veggies, and in 15 minutes, we're eating.  Which is good because, usually, in 20 minutes we're leaving for somewhere.  

A Slow Cooker (and a rice cooker)
Yes, it's that thing your grandmother used to make the horrible smelling roast every get together.  And no, it doesn't produce elegant food. I get all that.  But seriously, the only way I'm going to have a home cooked meal ready in time for our schedule every day, short of hiring a good looking maid (hmmmm...?), is to use a slow cooker.  Embrace it. Master it. Celebrate it. I've probably got 300 hand picked slow cooker recipes in my  Evernote notebooks. Who cares if every one of them turns out looking the same?  We're not gourmands.  As long as it tastes good and is (somewhat) healthy, it's better and cheaper than punting and going out for fast food.  

Major grocery shopping once a week.
Once you've planned your meals for the week, you know what you need.  If you know what you need you can get in and out of the grocery store quicker and cheaper.  This is huge for all you single dads out there.  The grocery store can be intimidating.  Make the list, review it, then stick to it.  Trust the planning you did before you got in the store.  Sure, you can call an audible now and then and switch up a meal here or there once you've got the experience (think Payton Manning).  But until then, stick with the designed plays you drew up before your stepped on the field or you’re going to made bad decisions (think Geno Smith).    

In full disclosure, I do stop at the grocery store a few times a week to pick up milk.  In order to keep it a little fresher, I only buy one gallon at a time.
Oh and you WILL get chuckles and eye rolling from women who think you're clueless in "their territory".  When that happens in the checkout line, make their day by whipping out your fistful of coupons AT THE VERY LAST SECOND before you pay.  (I love this one)

A concerted effort to be spontaneous 
You've gotten to this point and you said "Oh my GOD, how in the WORLD could this dude be spontaneous?"  Truth is, you're right.  And I acknowledge that.  It's just not in my nature to be spontaneous.  I have a tendency to view it all as logistics and a problem to be planned and solved.  In the business world that's a plus.  In real life it's a true barrier to happiness.  So, before we set out somewhere, I mentally say to myself, "this is an adventure, we can go wherever we want to go."  It helps me overcome that default "that isn't what I had planned" reaction to opportunities when we're out.  As a result, I've surprised my kids (and myself) a number of times with where we've gone and what we've done.  Make the effort to say yes to an opportunity when every fiber in your body says no.  You'll be happier.  And you'll have some stories to prove it.

When you read or hear a date, get it on the calendar, immediately.
The moment you hear or read a date that impacts your schedule, get it on your schedule.  You’re going to be off and running with the next crisis or task in a matter of moments.  You won’t remember it a couple hours from now.  So whether you use the phone or the computer, get it on the schedule, or verify its already there, NOW.

A white board so everyone knows the plan
My Girls are pretty savvy.  But they don’t have smartphones they carry with them 24/7.  So, every weekend I map out the coming week on a big 4’x4’ whiteboard.  I list every event, meal, and obligation we have.  Everyone sees it, and everyone knows the game plan.

Chores
Yep chores.  They don’t always get done, but everyone knows they are part of the team.  They know Dad can’t do it all (despite his attempts) and allowances are based on the completion of chores.  The Girls roll dice to determine what they have for the week.  They go up on the whiteboard. The List:

• Garbage and recycling
• Dishwasher unload
• Living room patrol
• Dinner table
• Vacuum and sweep
• plants and fish
• mail and newspaper

The Kids Themselves
Lastly, but certainly not the least, is the Girls themselves.  I cannot discount how difficult this has been on them, but we have come together as a much tighter and structured crew.  They have stepped up to the plate and taken on more responsibility when they’ve needed to.  They are a blessing, and how far we have come is based, in no small part, on them.

More things I've learned:

• Most waiters & waitresses, when they see a young father with three girls out to dinner they think 1) It's Mom's night out; and 2) Dad can't cook...  Sorry, but you're wrong on both counts
• Sometimes you can be surprised in a good way.
• Some people like Christmas shopping and wrapping gifts...They're freaks. Truly, Freaks.
• DO NOT accidentally use dishsoap in the dishwasher.  In a word ...WOW.
• Slow cooker dinners don't receive high marks for appearance or plating.  Regardless of their taste.
• Legos hurt when you step on them barefoot.  Even more so late at night when you're trying to be quiet. 
• Give yourself a break now and then.  
• Find physical or mental places where you can drop all the mechanisms and defenses you've built to try to manage everything all the time.  And when you get there. DROP THEM
• Your thermostat can, and will, poop out on you unexpectedly.
• I hate updating my resume.  Looking at what little is on the page versus all I wanted to have accomplished by now, I always feel like I'm falling short.
• Jagermeister comes in a 1.75l platoon size... AND it still fits on the same shelf in my pantry. Awesome!