"Today is the second anniversary of Steve’s death."
August 19, 2015 8:59 PM   Subscribe

I’m Sorry I Didn’t Respond to Your Email, My Husband Coughed to Death Two Years Ago

Q: What have you learned over the past two years?

A: Hoo boy. HOO BOY. HUUUUUOOOOOOOHHHHHHH BOOOOOOOOOY.


NPR producer Rachel M. Ward writes about her husband's sudden death and its aftermath. "So I am not happy that Steve died. But I am happy a lot of the time, which I didn’t really anticipate on this day two years ago."
posted by Charity Garfein (44 comments total) 56 users marked this as a favorite
 
Wow. That's amazing.
posted by zutalors! at 9:09 PM on August 19, 2015 [2 favorites]


The "Rachel M. Ward" link doesn't go anywhere. Did you mean to link to her bio page?
posted by Johnny Wallflower at 9:18 PM on August 19, 2015


Mod note: Fixed the link, carry on.
posted by LobsterMitten (staff) at 9:19 PM on August 19, 2015


I really needed this. I have always been a poor griever. I'm adding this to my grief toolbox next to re-watching Stephen Colbert's on-air eulogy to his mother. Why is it so hard to allow life to go on?
posted by Don Don at 9:26 PM on August 19, 2015 [3 favorites]


This is really well done.
posted by LobsterMitten at 9:29 PM on August 19, 2015 [1 favorite]


I should have known not to read that while this fucking summer cough is guiding me to exciting new vistas of physical discomfort, but here I am.
posted by Parasite Unseen at 9:29 PM on August 19, 2015 [11 favorites]


Q: I’ve noticed that throughout this FAQ you’ve used two spaces after a period.

A: Yeah, I’m not a fucking ANIMAL.
Yes!  Oldskool grammar and punctuation REPRESENT.

The whole piece is imbued with her lively sense of humour.  Good to see someone unabashedly living in full and letting the funny shine through during the tough times.

In my extended family's experience with death, the ones who could crack jokes the day of the funeral were also the ones who came through things in much better shape a few years down the road.
posted by Hardcore Poser at 9:38 PM on August 19, 2015 [37 favorites]


Great read, however I'm quite certain it's "PSYCH!", not "SIKE!".
posted by sourwookie at 9:56 PM on August 19, 2015 [31 favorites]


Wow. That was funny and sad and great and the kind of thing that I keep coming back here for. Thanks for posting.

Also, since I feel that fake-but-maybe-actually-real intimacy you can get on the internet, I feel like responding to her: "Yes, omg, open heart, but it doesn't come magically and then automatically thereafter, but is just continuing, and sometimes difficult, work. Also, Rachel, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but HTML compresses multiple spaces into a single space, and you have to resort to desperate measures to rise above the animals."
posted by benito.strauss at 9:56 PM on August 19, 2015 [4 favorites]


Her point of view seems to have a lot in common with stuff Stephen Colbert said in this recent interview with GQ:
“It was a very healthy reciprocal acceptance of suffering,” he said. “Which does not mean being defeated by suffering. Acceptance is not defeat. Acceptance is just awareness.” He smiled in anticipation of the callback: “ ‘You gotta learn to love the bomb,’ ” he said. “Boy, did I have a bomb when I was 10. That was quite an explosion. And I learned to love it. So that's why. Maybe, I don't know. That might be why you don't see me as someone angry and working out my demons onstage. It's that I love the thing that I most wish had not happened.”

“It's not the same thing as wanting it to have happened,” he said. “But you can't change everything about the world. You certainly can't change things that have already happened.”
posted by straight at 10:00 PM on August 19, 2015 [34 favorites]


Came to find out if my two-week cough will murder me, stayed for everything else.
posted by michaelh at 10:08 PM on August 19, 2015 [7 favorites]


Sike is perfectly cromulent. Perhaps generational. I'm probably around the authors age and I recognize that spelling.
posted by zutalors! at 10:12 PM on August 19, 2015 [12 favorites]


Well it's not really something that was ever meant to be spelled.
posted by Brocktoon at 10:18 PM on August 19, 2015 [5 favorites]


.Sure it is.
posted by zutalors! at 10:33 PM on August 19, 2015 [1 favorite]


This is all reminding me that my mom died a year and a week ago, and I'm (surprisingly) handling it much better than I thought I would, despite the looming potential problem of getting some of her ashes through UK customs.
posted by Mr. Bad Example at 10:34 PM on August 19, 2015 [3 favorites]


"So I am not happy that Steve died. But I am happy a lot of the time, which I didn’t really anticipate on this day two years ago."

Interestingly, this is a well-known, albeit somewhat disputed, phenomenon: the delightfully named "Hedonic Treadmill" - the ability people have to return to a certain happiness mean, in spite of windfalls or disasters they may experience.
posted by smoke at 11:22 PM on August 19, 2015 [6 favorites]


I don't really understand how humour and grief can co-exist and this piece didn't get me any closer. If anything the strange, strained tone suggested unresolved and unaddressed emotional problems.
posted by Segundus at 11:29 PM on August 19, 2015 [3 favorites]


Segundus, have you ever hurt yourself - perhaps knocked your head in a somewhat comical way - and found yourself laughing, maybe ruefully chuckling or wince-giggling whilst hurting at the same time? Humour and pain can co-exist quite happily.

Insofar as it pertains to people, you can't reduce the totality of a person and their meaning to you, to a monotone emotional palette, in my experience. It's simply far too limited, too reductive.

Additionally, many of our cultures' rituals and ways of socially handling death are - there's no denying - faintly or even overtly ridiculous when looked at objectively. I know when my father died, the bizarre theatre of organising and carrying out his funeral - with his metaphorical, spectre , in love with grandiose and dramatic gestures, overseeing everything we were doing with an eager acceptance - was undeniably comical, especially in context of the stress we were all under.

My dad would have loved his funeral - the idea of people sitting around talking only about him, literally queuing up to praise him would have been a dream come true, and that's funny, and he would find it funny as well.
posted by smoke at 11:46 PM on August 19, 2015 [24 favorites]


Segundus, deep grief is like being filled up with emotion so huge it stretches inside your skin and exists almost physically inhabiting you. And it's invisible to the rest of the world. Then when you laugh or something is funny - for a moment, the enormous beast or storm or whatever this heaviness is inside you is, it turns around and purrs and relents and you can breathe briefly. And in a way the humour or happiness is sharper and quicker to come because it's got to rush into that brief space before the grief swells back up again, and so it feels compressed and sharper/brighter.

I thought today for the first time in a while about one particular trauma, and how I wasn't ready to go near it mentally (a case of ours had come up where I had to redraft a narrative and it reminded me of something similarly bad I'd experienced) and how cold and quiet that 6-9 month period was for me in my head, and I thought, I will have to find parts of that funny first before I can feel how sad it was. If I can laugh about it, I can survive the crying.
posted by dorothyisunderwood at 12:35 AM on August 20, 2015 [18 favorites]


That was an interesting read. I know it's morbid curiosity, voyeuristic, and NONE OF MY BUSINESS, but I'm always terribly fascinated in how/why people died.

Plus... Ohh man... I also had a bad cough most of July. To the point where it was hard to sleep for two weeks. Allergies, maybe? It has diminished... also, I didn't have heart surgery. So there's that.
posted by sbutler at 1:41 AM on August 20, 2015


My wife died two-and-a-bit years ago, so this piece was very much of interest to me: thanks, Charity Garfein, for posting it. I can’t say that my grief has followed a path quite like Ms. Ward’s, but, as the commonplace goes, everyone grieves in their own way. Having said that, it’s certainly been true for me as for her that ‘I haven’t really had a magnificent realization about the necessity of doing what you love, or cutting the bullshit.’ And, also like her, I’ve been ‘ trying to teach myself to watch my feelings as they pass through me, rather than chasing them away.’

For me, grief has been kind of like a negative afterimage of my life with my wife, where the light parts (the love and the laughter and the closeness that you afterwards ache for) all turned dark, but where the dark parts (the vexations and annoyances that were part of our marriage too) become light. While I have often felt extremely sad and sorry for myself, I have never felt exclusively sad; there has always been some variegation, some sporadic relief from the pressing weight of the grief.
posted by misteraitch at 1:59 AM on August 20, 2015 [34 favorites]


Yes! Oldskool grammar and punctuation REPRESENT.

There's not a single sentence in the medium article that actually has two spaces after a period, but maybe that's the joke.
posted by effbot at 3:21 AM on August 20, 2015 [2 favorites]


"Q: I’ve noticed that throughout this FAQ you’ve used two spaces after a period."


No you haven't as additional whitespace in HTML markup is ignored.

Sorry. I will crawl back into my box. Lovely post tho!
posted by greenhornet at 3:58 AM on August 20, 2015 [13 favorites]


People in my life are less likely to have been around then and more likely to need to be briefed on this backstory. This is extremely annoying because after two years, I still don’t have a better way to relate this information than all caps-no spaces shouting.

I have a cousin who was widowed and re-married whose house I used to go to at holidays, which were populated by the few local relatives and various friends. Almost without fail, there would be a moment when someone goes "Wait a minute. What?" and we'd have to hash out who was who's blood relative. It turns out people expect your in-laws and your spouse to be related. I find it odd enough when we have to explain that this person I remember is/was part of this family, but I don't know if it's more or less awkward for the immediate family because they have nearly 20 years of practice at it or if it's permanently awkward.
posted by hoyland at 4:26 AM on August 20, 2015 [1 favorite]


This particular piece didn't resonate with me as strongly as I expected it to, even though I completely agree with it. You know how some people are amazing to talk to - they're quick-witted and insightful, connect with people effortlessly, and just light up the room - but in written correspondence, it's not quite the same? This felt like that. I have a feeling that if I heard Ward reading it out loud, I'd be cry-laughing. I've gone back and re-read it a couple times, and each time I warm up to it a little more, so maybe it's the kind of thing I just need to sit with a little.

I've mentioned in a previous thread that I feel somewhat guilty for not missing my dad as much as I "should." I miss him, and I'm sad he's dead, and there's always going to be a part of me that won't ever be fixed, but it doesn't follow me around and color my daily life like I'd expected it to. My life is better now in almost every way, which has nothing to do with his loss. My first impulse is to say "things come along to fill the hole," but that's not accurate. The hole never gets filled, but new things attach themselves to your life in different places, and instead of a perfect circle it's an irregular blob, jagged and off-balance but larger and more complex and beautiful.
posted by Metroid Baby at 4:26 AM on August 20, 2015 [7 favorites]


I enjoyed the piece, and thought about the things she eliminated so as to maintain the tone. One thing I can think of is waking up the next day and the maybe ten seconds where you are like, hey, it's gonna be a good day and BAM you remember death and it feels like that knowledge hits you in the side of the head, like a physical blow, and those ten miracle seconds where you lived before waking up into the reality seems like a world you can never live in again.

The other thing is the time of the year. Oh, it's early spring, beautiful and guess what? Today is the X anniversary of his death. Wow, fuck spring.

But humor is wonderful. Bravo to this lady.
posted by angrycat at 5:24 AM on August 20, 2015 [7 favorites]


Sengundus, humor in the face of grief is powerful. It, for lack of a better image, illuminates the abyss, even for a brief while. When my friend's parent died, I used the classic "other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?" and got her laughing at least for a little while. When my father died and I wanted someone to commiserate with, I sent an email with the subject "The Acting in Ford's Theater." Dark humor helps you deal with the grief and focus on what you want to remember about the person. I remember being told, when talking about how sad I was that I had never recorded my dad's stories at his memorial service, not to say "what makes me sad, besides the obvious I mean."

Anyway, it's been a year and a half for him. We're spreading his ashes this weekend (finally). This was great. Thank you.
posted by Hactar at 5:28 AM on August 20, 2015 [4 favorites]


Ooof, and yes, and thank you, Charity Garfein. Think I'll have a small cry and then laugh at my farting dog. It's all so mixed up, living and grieving; laughter is the life-preserver among the waves of grief.
posted by MonkeyToes at 6:09 AM on August 20, 2015 [2 favorites]


Humor is the only way I survive in moments of deep grief and anguish. Very dark humor, generally. I don't understand how anyone survives deep loss without leaning heavily on humor. I guess I'm just glad it's a big weird world and we're a little weird species and we have developed a variety of ways to deal with our pain so hopefully there's something that works for everyone and we all find our thing to get us through the waves.

This was a really good piece. Thank you for sharing it.
posted by Stacey at 6:27 AM on August 20, 2015 [5 favorites]


When my friend died a few years ago, those of us who were there at the hospital with him first thought to walk over to his favorite bar, tell them he had died, and see if we could get in without paying cover.

It worked.

Sometimes, dark humor is an awesome way to grieve.
posted by roomthreeseventeen at 6:47 AM on August 20, 2015 [15 favorites]


As a widower for three and three quarters years, I can confirm that this is all pretty spot on, though I don't know that I could talk about it in *quite* that breezy a manner.
posted by edheil at 7:49 AM on August 20, 2015 [2 favorites]


I would just share the following, that when I was processing the loss of someone, one of my grief therapists said: 'Deep grief is like the ocean. There will be high tide days, and low tide days, and over time you will learn the rhythms of your heart. But the ocean will always be there.'
posted by mrdaneri at 8:09 AM on August 20, 2015 [11 favorites]


Every extended family funeral I've been to has been the equivalent of an open-mic night. I knew my immediate family thinks everything is funny but didn't realize it extended to aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Nothing beats making a priest crack-up mid-funeral, I'm sure grandma would have been amused but feign disappointment to keep up appearances.
posted by Mick at 8:44 AM on August 20, 2015 [5 favorites]


I don’t know how the last rites went, but in terms of dealing with the non-dying, that guy was fucking terrible. I wish I could remember his name so I could pan him on Yelp.

The whole article was great. I loved it.
posted by kate blank at 9:07 AM on August 20, 2015 [1 favorite]


This was a great read. I think the older I get the more I see that little is purely sad/happy, and she captures that so well.
posted by pril at 9:37 AM on August 20, 2015


If anything the strange, strained tone suggested unresolved and unaddressed emotional problems.

I think you are mistaking honesty for a strange and strained tone which is too bad.
posted by OnTheLastCastle at 9:44 AM on August 20, 2015 [1 favorite]


Thanks for sharing, I appreciated this.

Having gone through some intense things in the last 4-5 years (luckily only timely deaths, but some close-to-death loved ones), I can relate to her description of watching the feelings flow. I sometimes joke to myself that I've been to Feelings graduate school, and just about have a doctorate by now. How many times can you re-arrange your furniture at 3am?

The humor thing is weird, and a DEEP divide between kinds of humans. I still chuckle about some really dark times I spent in the hospital with a friend, but I couldn't laugh about it with any of his family or friends -- that's just not how they coped. I'd never felt more out of place or alone.

Even though it’s frightening, I feel like I’m getting closer to being able to hand someone my soppy bruised tomato of a heart. If they cup their hands and treat it with gentle little kitten paws, I think I might be ok.

That part killed me.
posted by jeweled accumulation at 9:45 AM on August 20, 2015 [1 favorite]


This thread is an odd mix of "styles of grief" and "HTML rules-lawyering".
posted by benito.strauss at 10:29 AM on August 20, 2015 [4 favorites]


I don't really understand how humour and grief can co-exist and this piece didn't get me any closer.

My late husband would want me to find things to laugh about rather than cry about it. I have a very short comedy routine that I've created in which I talk about his death with very dark humor. I also have a nickname for him based upon his method of suicide.

As I told both my lover and my submissive the other day--I would not give up what I have now in order to get my husband back. Yes, I miss him so much sometimes I can't help but cry, but I've started to create a nice little life for myself that would simply not be possible if he was still alive. The one joke that isn't too dark that I say often is that for an Atheist, my husband did a very Christ-like thing--he died so I could live a better life.

My paternal Grandpa died getting back into bed on Friday the 13th several years ago. If he could talk to us, I know he'd say, "I told you I was unlucky!"
posted by luckynerd at 12:34 PM on August 20, 2015 [6 favorites]


Nothing beats making a priest crack-up mid-funeral, I'm sure grandma would have been amused but feign disappointment to keep up appearances.

What about a Comedy Central™ roast for a funeral?

You could have Jeff Ross come up on stage... "Grandpa always seemed like such a demure person. But that hound dog was responsible for single handedly increasing the rate of Chlamydia in his nursing home. He was the cause of so many prescriptions that Eli Lily had his watery discharge insured with Lloyds of London! He was the only thing making new antibiotic development economical!"
posted by Talez at 1:21 PM on August 20, 2015 [1 favorite]


Perfect timing for me. Tomorrow will be the one month anniversary of my mom's death from a long battle with cancer. It still feels like it was yesterday, and this morning I was wondering if it's really unusual to still feel frightened, angry, and severely depressed. I moved from San Diego to the Bay Area when she was diagnosed 3.5 years ago, and left my social network behind, so now I'm feeling adrift with no one to really talk to. We don't discuss death and grieving nearly enough in the U.S., so articles like this are really appreciated.
posted by Thoughtcrime at 2:14 PM on August 20, 2015 [1 favorite]


I was wondering if it's really unusual to still feel frightened, angry, and severely depressed.

Nope! (A qualified nope, anyway, since I can only speak for myself.) I didn't really get the frightened thing after my mom died, but holy shitballs was I furious for months afterward. Like "wanting to push someone's face through a plate glass window for walking too slowly down the street in front of me" furious. As for the depression, I can't really give you a reliable account because I was under the closely-supervised care of Drs. Smirnoff and Stolichnaya for about a month or so afterward. :P

So, yeah. It sucks, but at least in my experience, perfectly normal.
posted by Mr. Bad Example at 3:05 PM on August 20, 2015 [1 favorite]


It was frightening in the sense of triggering existential crises, usually when I'm attempting to get more than an hour's sleep at night. Angry not just at the universe, but also the lack of "death with dignity" laws in the U.S., and after it was all over, the realization that we totally could have gotten away with it. They didn't check or confiscate her morphine or any of the other opiates, just told us to throw them away in kitty litter so "hippies" wouldn't get ahold of them. She had often said she wished she lived in Oregon, but couldn't just abandon her home, friends, and doctors.

Consulting with Dr. Smirnoff (or Dr. Ganja) sounds like a great idea right about now.
posted by Thoughtcrime at 4:55 PM on August 20, 2015


After having pneumonia, I had a severe chronic cough (it made me throw up five times in a row about every other day) for about a year, which pretty much responded to nothing until I took up going to the gym and then it went away in a week. Then I read this story and aieeeeeeeeeeeee.

“I can’t believe it, he was such a good husband.”
And she said, “Yeah, but he did a shitty thing today.”
And that was the first time I laughed after Steve died."


I'd laugh at that too.

"I miss him, and I'm sad he's dead, and there's always going to be a part of me that won't ever be fixed, but it doesn't follow me around and color my daily life like I'd expected it to. My life is better now in almost every way, which has nothing to do with his loss. "

I hear ya. In my case, it took ten years of watching him suffer like hell and I am so grateful I don't have to watch that any more.
The thing I tell people is that you get used to the idea of them not being around. Once you get past the first X without them periods, you start being able to see the world not quite as much through the prism of what it would be like with them there. You think, "Dad would have liked the trailer park musical we went to the other night," and that's sad, but what are you gonna do? That's life. You have to keep going regardless.
posted by jenfullmoon at 10:52 PM on August 20, 2015 [2 favorites]


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