Lines on Sixty

In Loving Memory
Heidi Jean Goodnow: 1972-2020 

 

Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone

Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you

I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song 

I just can't remember who to send it to

 

One year ago on this day, I had to hear that news that most of us fear: that someone important to us has died.

Heidi’s son Noah recently said “Mom was one-of-a-kind”, and he was right: she was kind, honest, funny – she had a wit that was as sharp as a razor and a smile that could light up even the darkest night. She was my friend, my business partner, and my significant other—our relationship was fraught, confusing, a huge mess at times—and yet in 2020, we reached a place that was happier than anywhere we’d been before.  

On the anniversary of that heart-shattering day, I want to share my experience of the last year. I need to try to make sense of some of what I've felt with the experience of grief and loss...the painful, sometimes humiliating and ultimately extremely weird feeling when somebody goes away and one of your best friends is simply not there anymore.

It is a brutal, freaky, uncomfortable, and in some ways sort of amazing feeling. Trying to adjust to a new normal while things that you loved seem less and less interesting. Things you took for granted are gone.

You have to reinvent yourself, you have no choice, and it sucks…

 

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus? 

You've got to help me make a stand

You've just got to see me through another day

My body's aching and my time is at hand

And I won't make it any other way

 

I spent a lot of time at her graveside. I spent a fortune on flowers and my sister taught me how to arrange them nicely.

The Goodbye Book by Todd Parr, a book for very small children, brought me tears and joy, and reminded me of some very fundamental things about loving and losing. My mom recommended Here if you Need Me by Kate Braestrop. I listened to it on audiobook and it was every bit as good as she said. The author’s words showed searchlights into the dark places of my grief-stricken soul.

A couple of friends made me cry… Why didn't I do this? Why didn't I try that? If only… If only…

And I experienced many small acts of love, even from people you barely knew…and my support system, both internal and external grew stronger every day.

Many extraordinary kindnesses came out of nowhere, settling on my soul like a warm drink after a long trudge in cold weather. People shared their stories of bereavement with me, which made me feel less alone.

And as I say, it was weird. I joked with my sister, Suzi, that Elizabeth Kubler Ross, who famously outlined the five stages of grief, missed one: the "WTF??? Stage”… Things we've taken for granted, routines, comforting words, the ability to call somebody and share a joy, a minor setback, or any small part of our day…suddenly gone like tears in the rain

 

Been walking my mind to an easy time

My back turned towards the sun

Lord knows, when the cold wind blows

It'll turn your head around

Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line

To talk about things to come

Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

 

Tragedy can help us grow. Sometimes, going through something sad forces us to look at life a little differently, we learn from terrible experiences. This is why this experience has been so extraordinary. It is horrible, and you to grow and learn and reach into depths you never knew you had. We learn gratitude from adversity.

 

I never wanted the lessons I have received in the last year. Yet, I remember her and all of the beauty she brought into my life and the lives of those around her… And perhaps I can grow a little bit as a person from confronting this tragedy. I think that's what she would've wanted.

 

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain

I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend

But I always thought that I'd see you again

 

Song lyrics from “Fire and Rain” by James Taylor, copyright 1969 by Blackwood Music Inc., reprinted under Fair Use.