Grief Essays

Standing in the Silence

~ rdicarne ~ 12 Comments

There are many different religious traditions and opinions about visiting cemeteries. Being raised Catholic and still a practicing Catholic, I routinely visit cemeteries for holidays, other special days, and sometimes at the spur of the moment. When I was young, I was intrigued by the very old gravestones at the cemetery where my paternal grandparents are buried. I wondered about the time period in which these people had lived and felt a twinge of sadness when I came across a child’s grave. Chuck and I would make our cemetery trek to St. Dominic’s Cemetery, where my parents and grandparents are buried, and to Resurrection Cemetery, where his parents and sister are buried, bringing flowers, sharing memories, and saying a silent prayer before we left. Sometimes we felt sadness, but mostly it was reflective and cathartic.

Last week, Chuck’s headstone was set on his grave. I received a message late Tuesday afternoon that it had been placed earlier than expected, and on Wednesday after school, I took a ride to St. John Neumann Cemetery to see the stone. I wasn’t sure how I would feel or react to seeing his name (and mine) etched in stone, but it was somehow very comforting.

I know that Chuck is not in that grave, that his body is present, but his soul is in heaven, yet, with the setting of the stone came the peace of knowing that Chuck’s name is sent out into the world every time someone reads the memorial. Some people who read it will have memories of Chuck; others might wonder who he was, like I did when I was a child visiting St. Dominic’s.

Standing at Chuck’s grave, looking at his name on the stone, brought me a sense of connection. The stone was one last gift to my beloved, honoring the bond that remains between us. It turned out better than I could have hoped, and I think Chuck would approve because it is simple in design, just the way Chuck lived his life.

Some days, when I visit Chuck’s final resting place, I cry and feel deep sadness, thinking about the huge void his passing left in my life. Some days, it is a silent cry with tears gently rolling down my cheeks. Other times, it becomes an ugly cry that has me retreating to my car so as not to make a spectacle of myself. But last week, I felt calm knowing I would keep his legacy and story alive.

Love Lives On…

Wishing and Hoping

~ rdicarne ~ 27 Comments

wish – verb

: to have a desire for (something, such as something unattainable)

What do you wish for?  When you were a child, you might have wished for a day off from school or a special present from Santa. As we get older, our wishes change. Maybe it was for the perfect job, a raise, or a promotion. I used to wish I were thinner or that we would hit the lottery.  Sometimes I wished for perfect weather or for my favorite team to win.

Can wishes come true?  Some can if you are willing to set an intention, work hard, and be patient.  Others are only pipe dreams. Since my life was turned upside down in September, I have found myself wishing for the impossible.

Widow Wishes

I wish I understood the level of grief that came with losing your spouse, so that I could have been more helpful to those widows I know who came before me, but you can never understand until you walk that path.

I wish I didn’t have to experience this pain, but unless we died simultaneously, I would be leaving Chuck with the pain, and that seems selfish.

I wish I had more time with Chuck, but I know that was not up to me, and honestly, no amount of time would have been enough.

I wish I could see into the future and know when I will be reunited with Chuck, but that wouldn’t make the waiting and living any easier.

I wish I could learn to notice all the signs I believe Chuck is sending me, but I also believe he is near and watching over me, even when I don’t see them.

It is okay to wish, but wishing away your life is not healthy or productive. I am working on changing “I wish” to “I hope.”  

hope – verb

: to cherish a desire with anticipation : to want something to happen or be true

 My hope is to continue to work through my grief and learn to allow it to live beside me, not consume me. I had many hopes for the future. Now, that future looks different, but it is a future nonetheless.

Another Sign

~ rdicarne ~ 4 Comments

Today started out a little shaky.  I had a scheduled appointment to have my car inspected and an oil change. It had to be done today because the inspection sticker was set to expire at the end of the month, and I would not be able to take it on Monday or Tuesday. Yes, I know, I was cutting it close, but believe it or not, this is the first time I have ever done this myself. (I’ve been telling you I was spoiled!)

I got to the dealership on time and went into the office.  Of course, I had to go back out to the car to get my insurance and owner’s card because I didn’t know I needed to bring them in. (duh) When it was my turn to step to the counter, the service manager said he wasn’t sure whether they could do the work today because their systems had been down for 30 minutes, and they weren’t sure when they’d be back up. Cue the tears. I apologized for my mini meltdown, explaining that my husband died six months ago and he normally took care of all car-related things. To make matters more complicated, I had to attend the funeral of my cousin in three hours. I told him I would take a chance and wait to see if the system came back up.  

Once seated in the customer waiting area, I began thinking of what I could do if the work couldn’t be done today.  A nice man tried to make small talk, saying he had called his wife and said it might be a long wait, etc.  I was having trouble talking without letting the tears spill, but he was so kind. We had not been sitting there more than five or ten minutes when the service manager came up and said they were good to go, the computers were up and running. I told the man that my husband must be looking out for me.

About an hour later, my car was ready to go.  I decided to say hello to our salesperson, Diego, before I left, because when Chuck took the car for service, he would talk to everyone in the showroom! While telling Diego how much I am enjoying my car (bought it new in July), I mentioned Chuck.  Just then, Diego said he got the chills.  Now I may be watching too much of The Long Island Medium, but that seems to be a sign of a deceased presence.

I paid for the service and drove out to the parking area, where I pulled into a spot and put all the papers neatly in the glove compartment, when what song came on the radio but “Magnet and Steel.” (Those who have read some of my earlier posts will know the significance of this song.) That was my sign that Chuck was with me today when I tackled another one of those dreaded “firsts.”

There are those who may think I am crazy, but I believe our loved ones are sending signs from the other side.  

A Widow’s Creed

~ rdicarne ~ 11 Comments

Six months down, a lifetime to go. Being a widow is hard. Taking on new responsibilities is hard. Living alone for the first time in my life is hard. Moving forward is hard. Being happy is hard. All of these things are hard, but not impossible.

Some days, it would be easy to give up, plant myself in front of the TV, and veg out. Some days I am up to the new tasks, but don’t always feel confident. Chuck was always my biggest champion, and he believed I could do anything I put my mind to, whether it was true or not. Sometimes I think he believed in me more than I believed in myself.

I am trying to overcome limiting beliefs that crowd my mind, especially on days when I am sad or tired. This is the most difficult thing I have ever had to do in my life: learning how to live without my best friend and partner. Even though I don’t like or want this new life, it is all I have.  If I truly want to honor Chuck, I need to make the most of it. We were a team, and our motto was “We’ll figure it out.” I know I can figure this out with my faith, family, and friends, but more importantly, with myself.

I am working on believing in myself more.  Over these past six months, I have learned and continue to learn new things about myself every day. I started a list of things I believe (or want to believe) and still need work on.

  • I believe I will always miss Chuck immeasurably.
  • I believe he is close by and watching over me.
  • I believe life seems unfair sometimes.
  • I believe I am strong enough to take care of myself.
  • I believe I have a supportive community of family, friends, and neighbors.
  • I believe I am intelligent and still have gifts to share.
  • I believe I will be happy again in some form.
  • I believe God has a plan for me.
  • I believe in the power of yet.

Now I need to keep repeating these until I believe them without hesitation.

A Calm Day

~ rdicarne ~ 4 Comments

Yesterday felt heavy because it was another first without Chuck. I loved watching my granddaughter dance and seeing my whole family, but I felt the weight of Chuck’s absence.

Today was really a day for rest. After attending mass this morning, I came home feeling lighter. There were a few signs that Chuck was near, and I felt peaceful. While I did plan to get a few things off my “to-do” list, only a couple were accomplished, and that’s okay.

Breathing in positivity is a lofty goal these days. Grief can keep challenging thoughts on a loop in your head and beat you down if you let it, and some days I do, and that’s okay.

Today I was reminded of how fortunate I am to have so many supportive people in my life. For the first time in a long time, my soul feels replenished. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but for today, I am thankful for the calm.

San Giuseppe

~ rdicarne ~ 3 Comments

Today, in the Catholic Church, is the Feast of St. Joseph, husband of Mary and the foster father of Jesus. He is the patron saint of a happy death, workers, fathers, travelers, and immigrants. St. Joseph’s Day in our house was always accompanied by Zeppole di San Giuseppe (St. Joseph’s Cake). Zeppole are traditionally made from choux pastry, but here in the US, French crullers are more common. They are cut in half and filled with either vanilla pastry cream or my favorite, ricotta cheese, similar to a cannoli filling. They are dusted with powdered sugar and topped with a cherry.

Celebrating a person’s feast day is a widely held practice in Italy. It is mostly celebrated by religious families in southern Italy.

“For many Italians, celebrating one’s onomastico is just as special as celebrating one’s birthday, and for some, it is even more special. Onomastico means “name-day” in Italian, and in Italy, there is a custom where Catholics named after a saint will celebrate their onomastico on the same day as that saint’s feast day.” https://italianenthusiast.com/onomastico/

Chuck always was up for a celebration, so he wanted to celebrate on November 4th, the Feast of St. Charles Borromeo, but especially on March 19th, the Feast of St. Joseph (Chuck’s middle name), because it came with those delicious treats. Most years, Chuck would buy them at his favorite Italian pastry shops, but some years he made them himself. Either way, it wouldn’t be St. Joseph’s Day without indulging in a zeppole or two.

It occurred to me that Joseph was the perfect middle name for Chuck after reflecting on St. Joseph. St. Joseph is the patron saint of immigrants, and Chuck is the son of immigrants, being born five days after his family arrived here from Italy after a trans-Atlantic journey. Chuck was always so proud of his Italian heritage.

St. Joseph is the patron saint of workers, and I truly don’t know a harder-working man than Chuck. He began working at age 10 as a paperboy and never stopped working. He did whatever was needed to provide for his family.

St. Joseph is the patron saint of fathers, and Chuck’s greatest joy was being a father. He was so proud of his children and wasn’t afraid to sing their praises to anyone who would listen. Once he became a grandfather (Pops), there was no end to his love for his four grandchildren. He always told them, “I love you more.”

So on this, my first St. Joseph’s Day without Chuck, I will make my way to an Italian pastry shop after school, buy myself a zeppole (or two), and celebrate Charles Joseph DiCarne.

A New Day

~ rdicarne ~ 3 Comments

Last week was rough – lots of sadness, lots of tears. Yesterday morning was the release of the damn although it was not planned. My supportive colleagues lifted me up and stepped in when I could not. I am so grateful for their love and compassion.

Last night I got the opportunity to see my grandson play in the middle school jazz band for the first time. An added bonus was that his uncle, my son, was directing the high school jazz band at the same event. This was a treat considering they are in two different school districts. Chuck would have been so proud! I know I was.

Also, last night, one of Chuck’s high school friends texted me from where he lives in Florida. It was nice to hear from him, and his words reminded me just how much Chuck would want me to keep going and enjoying life. It’s not that I don’t know that, but when someone else who knew him well reminds me, I take it at a little nudge from above. I woke up today feeling a little lighter.

Today’s a new day

Look to the future and still

remember the past

The Reluctant Roommate

~ rdicarne ~ 7 Comments

Dear Grief,

Do you know that sometimes you are a bully? I am really trying to learn to live with you, but you are not the best roommate. Don’t you see how much I am trying to navigate this world without my husband? You have to remember that I am new at this. It hasn’t even been six months yet, but you are relentless.

I can live with the sadness and melancholy you bring to the room, but why do you keep surprising me with punches to the gut like on the day that he died? Do you think I could ever forget that day? Those images are permanently embedded in my memory like scenes from a horror movie. It is difficult to be present and “stay in the moment” when you try to lock me in a time machine and bombard me with painful memories.

You are an opportunist—coming at me when I am tired or not feeling well, or on a day with special meaning. You never play fair. Just when I think I have discovered a way to cope with my fears, my uncertainties, my loneliness, you pounce. I once thought I understood you, but this grief is not the version I met when my parents or other family members passed away. This is often overwhelming.

Why do you suck up all the oxygen in the room sometimes instead of letting me breathe in the joy? You make me do things I don’t want to do – stress eat, doom scroll, ugly cry. You are a monster that is so hard to tame, reminding me that life as I knew it is gone, that who I was before is not who I am now. Sometimes you make me irritable and short-tempered; other times you bring lethargy and body aches. None of these helps me be productive. I know that I need you, but I don’t need so much of you.

They say the stronger the love, the greater the grief. Well, I am in real trouble then. They say this will get easier; I am not so sure, but I am willing to play along. Living with you for the rest of my life is not something I look forward to, but I am not a quitter. When I feel like a toddler having a temper tantrum and want to scream, “You’re not the boss of me!” I will try to remember that living with you is not a choice, but how much power I give you definitely is MY choice. I promise I will keep trying my best, but could you go a little easier on me?

Respectfully,

Your reluctant roommate

Annoyance

~ rdicarne ~ 12 Comments

On my drive home from school yesterday, the center display panel, which looks like a mini iPad, started flashing. At first, I thought it was the sun shining through the trees as I drove, but then I realized something was wrong with the screen. How could this be?!? It’s my first brand-new car ever, and after eight months, there is a dashboard problem?

I am not going to lie, the first thing I did was cry. I cried because normally, I would call Chuck even though I would be home in seven minutes. But nothing is normal anymore. When I got home, I turned off the car, waited a minute, and restarted it, hoping that would solve the problem. Unfortunately, it did not. I dug the owner’s manual out of the glove box, but no help there either.

Still a little teary, I went into the house, sat down, and thought, “What would Chuck do?” He would ask Siri, but I deferred to Google. In under a minute, I had a possible answer to the flashing. Apparently, it could be a software glitch, a recall, a system overload, or physical interference – take your pick. I decided to see if it was still flashing in the morning, then call the dealer. I was proud of myself for not calling my kids or siblings and for handling the problem myself.

Of course, this morning it was working perfectly!

A Life Sentence

~ rdicarne ~ 10 Comments

Chuck was not new to attending high school concerts. He told me his whole family went to watch his brother play trumpet in high school and college concerts and musicals, but I think he thought his concert days were behind him. Little did he know he would be an audience member for life!

Chuck was my biggest champion and cheerleader. He was present for my high school performances at St. Hubert’s and All-City Orchestra, where I played string bass. Then it was on to Chestnut Hill College, where I studied music. Chuck was present for every concert and my senior recital, always supporting my endeavors.

1974-1976 St. Hubert’s High School Orchestra and All-City Orchestra in Philadelphia

1976-1980 Chestnut Hill College Orchestra and Senior Recital

He must have breathed a sigh of relief on my graduation day, thinking that his concert-going days were behind him. But… once I began teaching music, Chuck attended my Christmas and Spring shows at whichever school I was teaching. He patiently sat through the singing and “acting” of K-8 students he did not know. This continued for the 25 years I taught music. Chuck couldn’t have been prouder.

1980-2012 Christmas and Spring shows at the schools where I taught

After we had our own children, it was dance recitals, elementary band concerts, and then eight straight seasons of marching band competitions and high school concerts. Chuck couldn’t have been prouder of his kids.

1984-1995 Angela’s dance recitals

1995-2003 Concert Band, Marching Band, and Indoor Drumline competitions for Angela and Charlie

He must have breathed a sigh of relief on graduation day, thinking that his concert-going days were behind him. But… Charlie studied music at Mansfield University. We took the three-hour trip to see as many concerts and events as we could. Chuck couldn’t have been prouder.

2003-2007 College concerts, recitals, and marching band shows

He must have breathed a sigh of relief on his graduation day, thinking that his concert-going days were behind him. But…Charlie became a music teacher, and we went to as many concerts as we could, especially when his jazz bands were performing. Chuck couldn’t have been prouder.

2008-2024 High School Concerts, at the various schools where Charlie taught.

But… then came the grandchildren. We would go to as many concerts and recitals as we could. Chuck couldn’t have been prouder.

2018-2025 Dance recitals for Emma and Isabella

2023-2025 Chorus, orchestra, and band concerts for Parker and Emma

Chuck was a lifer when it came to being an audience member watching his family perform or lead performances. I am sure he had no idea what he was signing up for 50 years ago, but I know he supported us and was proud of us.

Chuck may not be physically present for all the concerts to come for Parker, Emma, Izzy, and Nolan, but I am sure he will be telling everyone in heaven, “Hey, look. That’s my grandchild!” And I am sure he still couldn’t be prouder!