How Did I Grieve?
Estimated reading time: 12 minutes, 26 seconds
In Praise of Walking
Hospice care was a bittersweet experience for our family. Our cozy apartment became a hub of love and support as relatives and friends gathered to be with us during this difficult time. At moments, it felt like there was no space left, but somehow, we always found room for everyone. My sons took on the responsibility of managing her medications and provided invaluable support in ways that I can never fully express my gratitude for. During the initial ten days, Jan could communicate and interact with all of us, although she was primarily confined to a hospital bed. The last few days passed by in a haze as we witnessed the final moments of her life slipping away.
After the intimacy of hospice and the funeral, I woke up to the realization that I was alone. My sons and their families had returned to their lives, leaving me to cope with the loss of my wife. To cope, I put on my walking shoes, despite the holes in the soles, and began to walk. Despite today’s heat emergency, I continued walking for the one thousand one hundred forty-sixth consecutive day this morning. I know I can’t keep this streak up forever, but each step helps clear my head and let my mind wander without thinking about my to-do list.
“In Praise of Walking“ by Shane O’Mara is a delightful celebration of the myriad joys, health benefits, and fascinating walking mechanics. O’Mara underscores the crucial importance of breaking free from the confines of our chairs and immersing ourselves in the world around us, laying the groundwork for a happier, healthier, and more dynamic existence. One particularly impactful revelation from this book is the profound effect walking can have on our mental state, fostering immersive mind wandering and encouraging focusing on personal memories rather than immediate surroundings. This newfound understanding has allowed me to embrace and value Jan’s affection, propelling me forward with a greater appreciation for her love and why I need to share it.
Jan’s Memorial Garden
Three years ago, during a gentle June rain, I ventured into Hanson Park and found myself drawn to the triangular garden. My sons and I earnestly discussed planting a tree to commemorate Jan, but we needed to figure out the perfect spot and the type of tree to choose. Standing in the tranquil park, I decided it was an ideal location for a tree. I silently yearned for a sign or guidance from Jan, knowing deep down that it might not come. Then, as the rain subsided and the sun emerged, I felt an overwhelming sense that Jan had reached out to me, expressing her approval of this serene setting. In that beautiful moment, I sensed that a part of her spirit, always within me, was still very much present. I came to understand that Jan would continue to accompany me as I navigated my way through the depths of my grief.
What started as a plan to plant a Forest Pansy Redbud tree in honor of Jan has become a living tribute to the love of my life. One hundred and seventy-three friends contributed funds to purchase two memorial benches. The cost of the benches was actually lower than the amount raised. The remaining funds created the Jan Lilien Education Fund, which will support ongoing educational activities at the park. Everyone who has seen the double spinner wind sculpture has found it mesmerizing and believes it will encourage people to meditate and reflect. I replied that I had only been truly mesmerized once, and that was the day I met Jan.
On her birthday in 2022, which marked the first year she wouldn’t be with me since she turned twenty-four, I decided to celebrate her life uniquely. I channeled my organizational skills into planning a public event to honor her memory and allow myself to grieve openly. Although I wasn’t entirely sure how it would impact my mourning process, I proceeded one step at a time, feeling that it was something I needed to do for Jan. By involving her friends, colleagues, and even people I had recently met, I aimed to ensure that her memory would not only endure but flourish over time.
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
