Two Years After Suzanne's Death, What Exactly Is Normal?

What exactly is normal? As I (we, Team Shefska) approach the second anniversary of my wife, Suzanne’s passing, this question has been on my mind often. It is truly hard to imagine that it will be two years on June 30th that Suzanne drew her last breath while surrounded and comforted by her family. Harder still to accept it as so.

In those two years, life has to some degree, you could say normalized. By that I mean, every day I get up, drink my coffee, check the computer, read my emails, react to tweets on Twitter and remain bitter that the woman I love, my partner in crime, the mother of my children, was taken from us at such a young age. Is 64 years on this earth a fair number of years? I suppose when you look around and realize that others are granted less time, that perhaps 64 years is ample time, not enough for my liking, but certainly ample by comparison.

So, really, what exactly is normal? Is wondering why, or what we could have done differently normal? Is replaying the days when we said nasty, hurtful things to each other and finally realizing just how stupid that was, normal? Is wishing that perhaps I could have been more understanding of Suzanne’s feelings and emotional needs, normal? Is wishing that earlier in our relationship I could have been more willing to be supportive and more caring, normal? Is wishing that I had been a better husband and a better father to my children, normal? Is hoping that because of Suzanne’s death I would ultimately become a more secure, more emotionally complete and better human being, normal? And finally, is realizing that the end was really just the beginning, normal? God I hope so.

I think in my case, all those things are not only normal but absolutely haunting. This might sound odd, but I am reminded of a line I vividly remember from Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner’s, comedy album, The 2013 Year Old Man, when the 2013 year old man says, “we mock the things we are to be.” We mock the things we are to be, we make fun of what we have experienced, in essence, we are the product of the environment in which we grew up. We scoff at our future only to realize latter on, what a sad, sad mistake that can be. I am tormented by the fact that my personal emotional insecurities concerning how a husband should interact with his wife — which were based on what I experienced watching my parents — will lead my children to believe that what they witnessed from me is normal, and to emulate that behavior. Much like I emulated what I saw as normal from my parents, when in fact it wasn’t. My fervent hope is that they realize, as I finally have, that this is really just the beginning for them as well, and that they don’t allow what they saw, to as negatively impact and stunt the real possibilities of their future relationships as it did mine.

It is absolutely normal as a parent to want your children to have a better and more fulfilling life than what you have had. To find love, happiness, contentment, fulfillment, and a greater understanding of life and being. It is our duty as parents to help guide them to try to find that enlightenment, it becomes an even a higher calling after you have lost your spouse. I feel as if Suzanne is holding my hand and walking me through this time of self reflection and understanding to make me a better person, a better parent — to set a better example for our children. What Suzanne tried to do in life she is accomplishing in death. Somehow Suzanne is helping to ensure that our children will indeed have a better and much more deeply fulfilling life than we had.

Is it normal to have no regrets in life? As I have begun to realize over the last two years, only a fool has no regrets. Me, as it turns out, I have more than I care to count but not so many that I am not willing to try to make amends for them all. To start that process, I pledge to Suzanne to continue to be more honest, to be less insecure, to be more open and trusting, and to allow myself to not only share my vulnerabilities with others but to unconditionally accept them as part of who I am. To my children, I pledge in their mother’s name to be a better father, a more emotionally complete and honest person. And to my friends, I pledge to be a better, more sincere and more compassionate human being.

Let me close as I opened. So, really, what exactly is normal as I approach the second anniversary of Suzanne’s passing? Suzanne remains the guiding light for our family, a light that sometimes flickers in the haze of life, yet a light that ultimately shines through. A light that will always have a profound impact on all us, and as with all things Suzanne, a light that will always be illuminating the right path. That, as it turns out is just the normal that I need.

Thank you Suzanne, I am indebted to you beyond words. I miss you dearly and I will love you and our children until I draw my last breath.

Much love,

Ray