February 28, 2021: the Day My World Changed

The day that every plan we had for the future was destroyed. The day that I lost the most incredible gift I had ever received. 

It's strange how time is marked differently after you lose your person. Everything is now categorized into four categories:

• Before Dan was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma 

• After Dan was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma 

• Before Dan died from COVID 

• After Dan died COVID 

Every day, I'm reminded of these categories of time. How and when I wake up. How I spend my day. How I watch TV at night. What I eat for dinner. How I “celebrate” holidays. How I interact with people and just about everything else. 

Even the private thoughts in my head are different. I used to be a planner. Literally everything in my life was planned. Now? I plan one day at a time. Not because I want to wait for something better to come along, but because I've seen firsthand how plans can dramatically change with no warning.

The first night that I went to bed after Dan died, my sister Patty and I parted in the hallway and I said “well, I got through today”. Little did I know that would become my life's mantra. 

In the five years since Dan's been gone, I know that I have changed. The core of who I am is the same, but I find that I worry a lot less. I used to fret about everything: if someone was mad at me; if I wanted to say no; if I would die alone because of not having kids; if I disappointed someone; if everything wasn't perfect,  the house, the holiday, the party…everything.

Now? My life isn't perfect and I have no interest in trying to create or maintain a facade. I don't want to die alone, but if I do? Well. Ok. There's nothing I can do about it anyway. 

That's not to say that I don't care because I still care very deeply about the people who care about me. I still want a home and a life that I'm proud of and I still want to make a difference in my little corner of the world. 

My world has gotten much much smaller since Dan died. People I thought would be there forever have left. I'm the sole caretaker of an elderly blind and deaf dog who can't be alone for very long. And I'm just trying to figure out my place in this new world. 

That being said, I have some plans for 2026. For the past 18 months or so, I've been on a major whole house purge and organization. It's long overdue and I know it's part of what heavily weighs on me. Our house isn't enormous or anything, but it's a 4 bedroom, 4 bath house with 3 finished levels, and a garage, and a yard. Oh and I like STUFF. 

I've been making my way through every drawer, every dresser, every nook and cranny. I've donated a TON of stuff and it’s liberating. 

So I will continue with that project while doing a few minor home repairs along the way. (If you know of a good, honest and reasonably priced handyperson, send them my way!).

Then it will be time to tackle the 3 things that I have been procrastinating on the most. 

• Finding and meeting with a grief therapist. It's WAY past time. For the first time in my life, I'm able to compartmentalize my feelings. But it's not a good thing. For a variety of reasons, I've forced myself to stop thinking about the hard things. However, like everything you ignore, it finds a way to resurface, like weeds on a sidewalk. Well, the weeds are popping up all over the place. 

• Going through Dan's closet. I have tried to do this countless times, but after a few minutes, I have to stop. I love seeing his clothes hanging exactly where he left them, but it's time. I know it’s time, but this in particular just seems so final. I've given a few of his things to people who have either asked for a memento or who could use something specific. Donating or gifting his things makes it a little easier, but I just need to make it happen. 

• The Dan Culhane Kindness Legacy. Initially I wasn't able to focus on this because I had to deal with so many things that occurred surrounding his death. Then I told myself to get to it. I tried and had to stop. It makes me embarrassed and angry at myself that I've been so stuck. Here is where I need to say a HUGE thank you to those family and friends who have continued to donate, even as it has sat basically dormant. But it's time to turn this into a reality- into something that represents the kind, generous and loving spirit of Dan. I think it will help me as well. Doing something is usually good medicine for me when I'm feeling helpless and lost. 2026 is the year. No excuses. 

Notice a theme with these things? Everyone of them deals with having to face the finality that Dan is gone and he's not coming back. 

The strangest thing about all of this is that I am NOT an avoider of hard things. I typically don't procrastinate when times are tough. But I suppose it's because this is by far the worst thing that has ever happened to me. There's still elements of disbelief, survivor's guilt and deep sadness. 

Dan once told me that I was the strongest person he ever knew. Now is the time to really live up to those words…for him, for me and for the people that love me. 

Thank you to everyone who remembers Dan. Thank you for sharing your memories, your reminders and dreams of him. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the check-ins, the acknowledgements and the many, many kindnesses that I continue to be shown.

Most of all, thank you for loving Dan and for keeping him in your hearts and memories.