At some point between 1 am when I talked to her and 7 am when Brian called me sobbing, Tammy Whitacre died on this day last year, mere hours after her birthday. You can read the announcement here.
I’m obviously depressed about it, as one would expect, especially since I am basically a miserable twat anyway. I was at the dentist yesterday and they noticed I was crabby and my hygienist, who I have had for decades and was a former student. She mentioned I was grumpy and asked if there was anything I liked and I grunted and said “sitting, napping, and not being fucked with.”
At any rate, it has been a long year. I still think about her multiple times a day, still blurt out “hey siri call tammy” at least once a day, and I don’t think I will ever recover. I’ll never be happy that way again, so all I have are the memories, and that’s ok, mostly because it has to be.
It’s so complicated.
Gregory
Sending peace and love and light.
cain
❤❤❤
Chris Johnson
Fair. My best friend passed away a little more than a year ago. It’s not a thing for replacing. I persist, and there’s still stuff out there for me to do.
Aimai
I’m so sorry, John. This loss, these losses, are just so hard.
Tom Levenson
I’m so sorry. That kind of loss becomes part of the fabric of who we are.
My brother in law died in September. He was a great and a good man, and though I never saw him enough (we lived 7,867 miles apart) he was a touchstone for me. It will take me some time to get over the anger I feel at his absence.
May Tammy’s memory become an ever greater blessing, John.
DebG
The bigger the love, the bigger the hurt. You wouldn’t trade your time with Tammy, no matter how much it still hurts now.
Sending you mental hugs and healing purrs from my cat. You’ll get through this day, and every other, because you have a big strong heart.
Baud
My condolences, JC.
MagdaInBlack
My total sympathy and empathy, John. I’m revisiting some grief here myself this month.
kindness
I still speak to loved ones now gone. It’s when they speak back that everyone has to worry.
Kristine Smith
As usual, by the time I arrive others have already said what I want to say.
Take care, Cole.
Old Man Shadow
Yes, the year has fucking sucked.
I’m sorry for your loss.
Some days I feel like when Death comes for me, I’ll just be relieved that it’s finally fucking over.
The Thin Black Duke
I’m sorry, Coke.
The fucked up thing about getting older is the goodbyes.
And there’s more of them every year.
brendancalling
That’s the part that sucks most about getting older: people start dying.
Alison Rose
Sending you lots of love, John. And I’ll offer a quote from a novel I read recently that I think will hit home for a lot of us (maybe all of us):
Jeffg166
Grief is hard.
MagdaInBlack
@brendancalling: Sadly, we dont have to get older. I was 38 when my husband died.
MomSense
I’m really sorry about Tammy.
I don’t know what to think about the years lately. Seems like they have all sucked in different ways. I’m trying to focus on the happy bits – but man it does feel like life is flying by and I’m spending all my time just dealing with issues.
satby
A good friend like Tammy is a treasure. And irreplaceable when they’re no longer with us. But you had that, you have the memories, and always will. Some people never get to experience a connection like that, so remember her with love and happiness that you knew her. It gets better John.
Princess
I’m so sorry John. I remember Tammy died just a couple of days before my tiny grandson died suddenly, and you were so kind and reached out to me in the middle of your own grief. I’ll never forget that.
Grief doesn’t get easier and it doesn’t get smaller, but we do grow larger and we come to be able to carry it.
skyweaver
I remember when she passed. I don’t know how you really get over this kind of loss.
narya
The first year is particularly brutal–a year of firsts-without–but the grief recurs, at unexpected times and in unexpected ways. As I’ve said here before, the one thing I did, for many years, was to have my sister’s favorite beverage on her birthday and on the anniversary of her death, as my own effort to celebrate her, even as I mourned her and acknowledged my loss of her. She’s been gone 40 years, this year, and the grief has evolved as well. But, you’re right, you don’t recover from it; you learn to live with it. Sending gentle thoughts your way, John.
Old School
My sympathies to you and Brian as you continue to work through your grief.
MagdaInBlack
@skyweaver: We don’t. We learn to live around it.
comrade scotts agenda of rage
So sorry John. We lost an old friend in Sept, it hurts.
Know that there are plenty of people who share in your grief.
Kelly
My first wife died of cancer in 2001. I was ready for love again in 2008 when I got together with the current Mrs Kelly, who I’d known for a few years. Grief takes a while. Both my wives are artists and it helps that the current Mrs Kelly loves the first Mrs Kelly’s work. She feels they’d have been friends. I sometimes feel a little melancholy with my first wife’s grandchildren. They were born years after her passing. She spoke to me about them near the end.
Paul in KY
My condolences, John. Just remember all the great times you had with her! They will be there till you pass on yourself.
Tony Jay
You’re right. It is that way. It hurts and it always will, but it has to be okay, because it just does.
That’s all I’ve got.
CaseyL
Tammy was a blessing to so many people; her death was, and remains, confounding and awful for the people who loved her.
I have friends – good ones, friends I love – but I haven’t had a friend like Tammy in a very long time. Someone you can call in the middle of the night for any reason; someone you want to share news with immediately; someone whose opinion you can trust utterly. That kind of friend is a priceless treasure.
I’m so sorry, John.
Raoul Paste
“sitting, napping, and not being fucked with”
So, not a Dale Carnegie graduate…
laura
I’ll never be happy that way again, so all I have are the memories, and that’s ok, mostly because it has to be.
It’s been that kind of year for so many of us. Grief barges in making demands and refuses to adhere to a schedule. Mapping the geography of loss, too vast to capture in a Thomas guide. Constant tidal ebb and flow with sneaker waves that catch you unaware and unprepared. Pain. Pain that must be endured because there is no analgesic for a heart so heavy.
Villago Delenda Est
It’s never easy. I lost my little brother in 1987. I think about him every day, and imagine how he’d react to the world today. It does bring me a smile…especially when he’d express his own manner of snark on things.
Take care, John, stay centered. Thurston needs you.
Lord Fartdaddy (Formerly, Mumphrey, Smedley Darlington Mingobat, et al.)
I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I’ve been lucky enough that all my friends are still with me. I dread the day that I lose my first one.
Raoul Paste
Near the end of his life, Kurt Vonnegut said something to the effect of “this world is a vale of tears, and that’s why you have to be kind“
Betty Cracker
I’m so sorry, John. The first year is the hardest when you lose someone essential, but like others have noted, you don’t ever get over it. You learn to live with it. It’s especially awful to lose someone before their time. It just seems so unfair. It is so unfair.
Peace and strength to you and all who loved her.
Doc Sportello
So sorry.
pieceofpeace
@Alison Rose: Thank you for this.
TBone
Please accept this offering of a small, tiny solace of words by Weston Parker:
In The Moonlight
Tonight the moon
is out in force.
On every rock and tree
shines its surreal light.
Gone are the colors,
just black and white
and gray composition.
Why does this cool pale bath
do more for my sad heart?
Why does the beam
of the full bright day
alienate me so?
At our weakest,
we are so brittle that even
a tiny sob
can start a shattering.
Only the gentlest hand
touches our sorrow,
only the kindest voice
can ease our pain.
In the moonlight
our pallor can glow,
our hearts can ache
and safely weep
because in the moonlight
our tears can sparkle.
Manyakitty
So sorry, John. There’s no way to fill the Tammy-shaped hole in your heart, but try to feel her inspiration, motivating you to keep going.
Sending love and light to you and Brian and all who love her.
Urza
Too many people think you have to do lots of things in life. Not enough understand the simple pleasure of sitting, napping, and not having annoying people around.
BellyCat
Those are indeed sage words. The hardest part is imagining that other joys remain possible. Opening oneself up to new potentials is not only damn scary and can feel like a betrayal.
Tammy would be thrilled that you have found a companion who puts up with your shit, so don’t piss either of them off by freezing your definition of well-being longer than it will naturally take to loosen your grip on a former, much-loved reality to speculate, just a little, about the possible adventures ahead.
Shorter version: New leather boots are never as comfortable as the old ones. The only way to break them in is to tromp through the muck for as long as it takes.
Peke Daddy
I empathize. Christmas Day 2017 I lost my friend of 38 years and my partner of 17 years. It’s gotten better but won’t go away. Remember the good.
Ohio Mom
I feel for you John. My condolences.
You’ve done admirable job of soldiering on without Tammy, I like to think she’d be glad to see you getting on with things.
I hope Brian knows all of us Juicers send our sympathy to him.
FastEdD
Peace on the journey. So many of us here have our struggles. It is good to share.
I was making eggs for breakfast for me and the dog this morning. A piece of eggshell was left in the pan and I immediately thought that I better get rid of it because Ginger doesn’t like that. Then I remember that she left us a year ago.
It hurts getting older. Sometimes it just hurts.
pieceofpeace
Take care of yourself. Would she have wanted anything else?
TaMara
Wishing I could hug you right now. It does get easier – by easier I mean the ache is duller, not the piercing piece of shattered glass it is now.
My best friend died when we were 17. It was like the door slammed shut on my childhood forever and suddenly life was a little bleaker. There’s not really a day that goes by that I don’t think of her in passing. I absolutely remember the anniversary of her death.
Cherish the chest full of memories you had with her. She’ll always be a part of you. <3
Marcopolo
Big hugs out to you & thanks too, for being the founder of this community.
We live in a time where we are constantly being bombarded with “bad” news & “outrages” we should be upset about cause that’s apparently a better engagement driver than talking about the good stuff. And when we encounter real grief in our lives (which we all will at some point) I think that can make it harder to heal those wounds. But sharing how it’s affecting you is a great start. Beyond that, keep active every day (just going for a walk), do the things you love, and hold your friends & family close.
And for some cheerful news, Kevin McCarthy, the guy who never quits, just announced his resignation (effective the end of the year)!!!
way2blue
John. You have my deep sympathy today. The one-year anniversary was the worst for me after my sister drowned. Before that day, I could look back and remember something we did together the year before—if only passing in the kitchen. My sister’s memories are a blessing, as long as I don’t remember that tragic day. May Tammy’s be the same for you.
Miss Bianca
I’m sorry, John.
chrisanthemama
May her memory be a blessing to you.
Hoodie
Sorry it’s hitting so hard. It was bad enough when my dad passed away, he died before my kids were born. He’d lived a full life, though. I can’t imagine how it is losing someone that young.
Thor Heyerdahl
Wishing you all the best John during these difficult days.
NoOneOfConsequence
You know, it’s true: you’ll never be happy exactly that way again.
But you also know that that amount of happiness is sitting there, waiting to be developed, with the right person or people. It’ll be different, because they are different people – but it will shine brightly, in different ways.
Some people say the hurt never goes away. I believe such people might not have much pain in their lives, and therefore, don’t get the concept of “the pain doesn’t go away”.
The totality? That there’s someone you love, and want to touch, or talk to, or just be with, that’s still there, that’s still real, and you can still miss a person with all your heart, until it aches like crazy? That doesn’t vanish. But if you let the happy memories come to the fore, and the unpleasant memories fade as much as they can, soon, there’s only the happiness, and love, remaining in your day to day life.
The sudden, harsh, punched in the gut feeling? That goes away. It’s supposed to. If you stay within about 15 seconds of a sudden, harsh, punched in the gut feeling, you may have PTSD, or be similarly affected. Your body isn’t built to generate those feelings, except in an emergency, and, it sucks, but our bad news detector is like our danger detector, so, whammo with the adrenaline.
When that part fades, it means your body and brain are appropriately dealing with the injury, and, yes, it’s a real injury, one that needs proper care to heal cleanly.
A year is the “proper” time for mourning – that is, if you’re still suffering from depression-like symptoms a year after mourning, you *can* see a doctor, but there’s no need to. Still: it’s often the time when people start noticing changes, and sometimes wonder if they’re losing something, because the pain is less, and, hell, if I thought I’d leave nothing but mourning in my wake, I’m not sure I’d want to live in the first place!
A year is the time when the happy memories have time to come flowering back, when you’re ready for them.
I won’t try to predict what one person or another would have wanted – but, building happiness, with our fellow humans, is one of the few real joys in this world. Republicans would rather have you thinking about which of them you might have to kill, because they’re all “the wrong people”. So, take the good part of being a Democrat: think about the right people, the loving people, the friendly people, who like making the world better, not worse.
Or spend a few grumpy days, if that’s more your style. Just remember: grumpiness should be a tool. Even Oscar isn’t a Grouch *ALL* the time – he’s just a really good method actor.
JoyceH
Oh, an elegy thread. Yesterday I wondered why Dec 5 sounded familiar and realized that it’s been four years since Jane died. She was my twin, and we texted back and forth every day. So – it’s weird. Especially weird not to get Jane’s take on all the stuff that’s happened since then, election, insurrection, pandemic. And after 66 years of “our birthday”, “my birthday” is never going to sound normal.
Ruckus
It’s never easy, but life goes on.
As of about 4 months ago I am the oldest living extended family member. Older than all the cousins, last one left in my immediate family. The closest extended family member lives 125 miles away. The next closest is about 1400 miles away.
trollhattan
It is crystal clear Tammy was special, and you had a special relationship, something rare and precious. You will hold that close the rest of your days, which does not make her loss any easier.
Peace unto you, and everybody else who loved her.
p.a.
One of my best friends died 12/5/22. Another in Jan ’22. Late & mid 50’s respectively. GF’s middle son Memorial Day this year. 38 or 39 y.a. Fuck fucking cancer.
Ida Slapter
My best (gay) (boy)friend died 26 years ago, and I was aching to share something with him just last weekend. My grief has mellowed with time, but it’s still there. I have yet to lose one of my best girlfriends, but I treasure them all every day, especially when we are together doing whatever.
The first year was the hardest, and I’m sending you a virtual hug and a virtual purr and heated kneading session from my cat today.
It gets better.
zhena gogolia
@Urza: Absolutely.
So sorry, John. I’ve been thinking about Tammy. A great loss.
Elizabelle
Time is a great healer, but you never get over a loss like that of Tammy. Even while you know you are so lucky to have had a Tammy, the Tammy, in your life.
Wishing you peace, and that you never forget the good and goofy times.
zhena gogolia
@Ida Slapter: You have the greatest nym.
wenchacha
Love hurts. Not always, thank His Noodly Appendage, but more often than feels good.
I hope time will soften the blow, and that you will be cheered with good memories of better times with Tammy.
FelonyGovt
I’m so sorry. A loss like that is constantly painful. Take care of yourself, and may her memory be a blessing.
Shana
I had a difficult relationship with my father, that was improved by the fact that we lived half the country away from each other, but after he died it was a couple of years at least before I stopped thinking “hey Dad would like to read this article” or similar thoughts. It takes a long time.
Yutsano
Oh John. I don’t have really any sage words here. Just know this community cares about you and wishes you peace.
Soprano2
I’m sorry, like others have said the first year is rough. What people who haven’t had a loss like that don’t understand is that you’ll never be the person you were before it happened. The day after my sister’s funeral I told someone “There’s before her death and after her death, and it’ll never be the same as it was before”. It takes a lot of time to get used to the “new normal” that your life has become. I think on balance, though, it’s better to have had it and mourn it than to not have had it at all. If it weren’t for love, there wouldn’t be any pain, but it’s not worth losing the pain to lose the love too.
Mel
I’m so sorry about the awful loss that you and Brian have suffered, and sorry that the world lost a good, kind light of a person like Tammy.
That kind of loss leaves a permanent mark on your soul, and the first year is full of big and small shocks when you realize, over and over, that a beloved person is gone.
It’s been 16 years since I lost my best friend, and this Fall marked 42 years since we met in middle school. The pain of her absence slowly has eased and turned into something less awful and more bittersweet, and I can smile when I think of her, but the missing her is still present.
Grief is something our culture seems to think should have a single form and a finite timeframe, but everybody’s heart breaks and then slowly heals in its own way and time.
Take the time you need to grieve, Cole. Talk to people who can help you not just process the grief, but who can also remember the joy that Tammy brought to the people she loved, and into the world in general.
That kind of love and friendship leaves an even bigger mark on our hearts, I think.
People like Tammy can’t help but make the people around them move towards being more open to others and a bit kinder to themselves as well. It’s just who they are, and how their light shines.
Hold on to those things, Cole. They’re a gift of love from her.
RevRick
Grief is personal and it’s also universal. What’s often lacking in our culture is the communal aspect. We’re left to grieve on our own.
As someone who has performed about two hundred funerals in my life, including for my parents, my in-laws, my brother and my niece, I have seen and experienced much of death and dying. I’ve dealt with those for whom the death was shattering and those for whom it was kind.
The awful deaths were the ones like the child of four who died of a neuroblastoma on Mother’s Day, the young woman who died of stomach cancer, the young man who succumbed to brain cancer, my own niece killed in an auto accident at age 17. What compounded the grief was not only the reality of a life cut short, but also the expectation that the older generation goes first. What compounded the grief was the subsequent isolation, the withdrawal inward, the refusal to talk about it.
Grief is necessary, but it becomes unhealthy when it gets stuck. It never disappears, but it does lessen with time.
One of the most unhealthy practices of our time is the assertion that “I don’t want a funeral; I want a celebration of life.” That’s a surefire formula for screwing up grief, because it screams sorrow and mourning are bad, and we should only think happy thoughts, and think of the shitload of judgment that imposes on the bereft.
May the God of all comfort comfort you John Cole.
Ben Cisco
Sorry, Cole.
The loss you feel is a testament to the bond you shared. The best thing that I can tell you is that I have learned to function despite it. Seven years on for me, I can smile at the good memories now.
Brachiator
I am very sorry, John, and send my best wishes to you and to all who knew Tammy.
I have had my share of loss and pain.
But I have said this in hard times and truly believe it:
I have been sad before, and will be happy again.
Mousebumples
My sympathies for you and everyone who knew and loved Tammy. Her presence is missed.
My thoughts are also with everyone else in this thread who is missing someone(s) they love.
My grandfather’s funeral was this morning, and he loved jokes – kinda like dad jokes. So whenever I think of those, hear one, tell one, I’ll remember him, and hopefully laugh or smile.
Mick McDick
I think we all hear you and identify, John C. I love you, man, because you gave us this blog and assembled this fine stable of writers. I don’t comment much, I’m a reader/lurker/appreciator.
Just landed here to tell you we love you and you hang in there, John.
Antonius
Hi John.
All I can wish is that peace be upon you. No, you’ll never be happy that way again, but you’ll be happy in another way.
She’d want that for you.
Best,
Antonius
rikyrah
The first year is always the hardest, Cole.😪
It will just move to a dull ache😔
mvr
Not sure that the content of anything I say will be helpful, but I feel like saying something just to express my wish that the kind words of the many people on here who care for you and are better off for your existence help a bit, if not today, maybe tomorrow.
kalakal
My condolences John. Life goes on and that in some ways is the hardest thing. How you feel does get better with time but getting to that place is hard and how long it takes is different for us all. With time I hope that when you think of Tammy it’ll be with joy, sadness too but with Joy.
Yarrow
I’m so sorry for your loss, Cole. And my heart especially goes out to Brian who has lost the love of his life. Tammy always seemed like such a lovely person when you’d share pictures or when she showed up here. We are missing a bright light.
@satby:
It’s not good to say this. It might get better it might not. It’s unfair to anyone grieving to say “It gets better.” The grief will most likely change but it may not get better. You may learn how to live with it or around it. That doesn’t mean it’s “better.”
It’s wrong and bad to tell people it will get better because if it doesn’t for them they can feel like they’ve failed at everything, even grieving. Everyone experiences grief differently and for some it most definitely does not get better.
Honus
If you’d never had that love, there wouldn’t be any pain. The pain is a manifestation of love.
It’s what Faulkner meant when he said “between grief and nothing, I will take grief”
stinger
My ongoing condolences to you, John. Tammy seemed so wonderful, from everything you ever said about her. Your life is different now, and it still has good things and good people in it.
LiminalOwl
I’m so sorry, John. May her memory continue to be a blessing to you and Brian forever.
Mary
John, I understand. My sister died two years ago and every day I want to call her. We talked on the phone every day for years and years. We were “Irish twins” and best friends. She was so ill before she passed. I’m so glad she’s not suffering anymore but I miss her so much. -Mary
KateP
I’m so sorry for your pain. Here’s my go to for grieving:
The Thing Is
BY ELLEN BASS
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you down like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
frosty
My condolences. It takes a long time for the process of grief. Thinking about her several times a day after a year seems perfectly normal to me. It’s happened that way for both me and my wife. I don’t have any advice except to embrace the memories.
Msb
Some losses just keep hurting, but I bet you’d rather grieve for Tammy’s death than never have known her. I hope, as time passes, you get more joy from remembering her than pain from losing her.
“This, too, shall pass” is a truth that functions as a threat or a promise, depending on how things are going at the time.
All best wishes to you.
WaterGirl
@NoOneOfConsequence: What an absolutely thoughtful and beautiful this is. Thank you for sharing it with John and all of us.
robtrim
It may sound strange, but being human (in the most basic sense) is the fact that we mourn our dead.
There is a lot of recent research into prehistoric humans (Neanderthals and others) who were at times contemporaries of Homo Sapiens. Besides DNA evidence there is the physical evidence that they sought to honor and memorialize their loved ones after each passed away.
These are ancient attributes that, of course, live on. It’s telling that being “human” means dealing with the loss of our loved ones. There is the yiddish word, Mensch, that is perhaps the highest praise that can be bestowed on a person – it has different colloquial meanings, but it can be summed up as ‘human being’.
You John, are a mensch…