January 2024
“The night is darkest before the dawn…”
From left to right: Yia Yia, Dad Josh, Mom, and Grandpa at my parents wedding in 1989
One of the most difficult things about my sister’s untimely death is that it took me back to a really difficult time in my life. In 2009 my Stepdad, Josh (53 years old) took his own life while my Mom, Kate (55 years old) was terminally ill with cancer. She would go on to pass in 2011. Soon after my grandfather, Wally (78 years old), passed after suffering with Parkinson’s. Lastly my Yia Yia (82 years old), Susan passed away in 2016 while dealing with complications with her lungs. From 2009 – 2016 it was a period of loss, a period marked often by death, sadness, and numbness.
I remember I was driving back to Tucson, where I lived at the time, when I received the call that Yia Yia had passed. That was in September of 2016 and I had been in San Diego for my sister, Joanna’s wedding. The drive from San Diego to Tucson is about 5.5 hours. It gave me a lot of time to think about my family and what had transpired over the last 6.5 years. I have to admit, I felt a sense of relief. Yia Yia, ironically, had never been in the best of health, yet somehow outlasted all of them. After my grandpa died, she moved into an assisted living facility and was by herself in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, where she lived all her life. The situation tore me up. I wish I could’ve been closer so I could see and take care of her. Ultimately, she wanted to be there and wouldn’t hear any more discussion on the topic of moving. When she passed, part of the relief I felt was that she wasn’t alone or in pain anymore. I knew she was reunited with her daughter and her husband of 58 years in heaven. It felt like I had been waiting for this moment for years, like I could finally take a deep breath again. And while I did, it just so happened that I met my future wife Shelby a few months before she passed. About 6 months after Yia Yia passed, Shelby and I quit our jobs, sold my house and left on a 3 month trip that took us through 16 countries. A trip of a lifetime that I never would have been able to do if I knew Yia Yia was back at home. That kicked off a period of growth in my life. Shelby and I would move back to San Diego, buy a home, get married and in short order welcome 4 children to the world. And then… just like that, Joanna, my original best friend, my younger sister that I looked up to, was diagnosed with Leukemia and gone in less than a month. I felt like I was thrown into the deeps and darkest waters I knew, back into those same waters that I rose out of in 2016. Only this time, I didn’t have to keep myself afloat, I also have a family to help keep afloat. I couldn’t quite figure out what to make of it. I felt like I had gone through “that” period in my life. The period of loss, the struggle. Those days were supposed to be over. Now it was time to grow, stretch, fight, rise…
JoJo and Mom, recently reunited in heaven…
As I struggled through the Christmas season (just ask my wife, she’ll tell you), I felt some of the magic of years past watching my 4 children open gifts, talk about Santa, and woof down reindeer pancakes… I did, I really felt the magic. And then my youngest sister called to tell me that my Uncle Kevin had a stroke in his sleep on Christmas Eve and they didn’t think he was going to make it. He passed away on December 26th.
Deep breath… wow. The timing was brutal. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase “the night’s always darkest before the dawn” first used by English theologian Thomas Fuller in 1650. Some time in the past few weeks I had a realization. I had been assuming that my life would have one night and one dawn. I know now, how incredibly silly (and foolish) it is to think that would be the case. There will be multiple “days” in my life, some of which will be darker than others. This time period of growth for my immediate family has been confusing because of the joy and immense challenges that children bring. I will tell you, 4 children under 4 is not for the faint of heart, most days are REALLY HARD. That, in conjunction with the tremendous loss of both Joanna and Kevin, has felt like I am in one of the darkest periods of my life.
The biggest difference this time is that I know a ‘dawn’ is coming, a new day, a chance to begin again, a chance to feel the hope of better things ahead. My hope for you in 2024 is that you find that hope no matter where you are in your life, knowing that the sun will rise again. Until then, if you need a helping hand or someone to lean on, just ask. I’m always here for you, and Cheers to 2024.