Eighteen Months Later

Here I am eighteen months after Denny's passing.  I have more good days than bad but the bad ones are my reminder of what was in the past.  Those memories and that unconditional love is what I miss.  But I am also reminded that just as I did when Denny was diagnosed with Alzheimer's -- I can't just look at what I have lost but what has been gained through these experiences and challenges.

As a couple I don't think we were ingenious in our planning for the future.  We were conservative with money and valued family, friends and educational opportunities more than "things".  I once told Denny he had put three people through college:  myself, Scott and Sondra.  On his watch, we all finished our college degrees (bachelor's and master's for me) with no student loans.  That was a huge financial committment but one that neither of us questioned.  At the time, we believed that education was our best investment for the future.

Now I sit in the future!  I have a passion for teaching.  In particular I love working with adults who have underestimated their intellectual abilities and the future that lies in front of them.  In the fall, I thought I would be tutoring at a high school nearby.  The funding fell through for that about the same time I needed to go stay with my brother during his final weeks.  So when I returned, I didn't know what I would do with my time.  I just tried to take it easy (maybe a little too easy).  What was different than in the past, I wasn't overly concerned about the future.  Financially I am comfortable so work for me is more of a gift.  So about 6 weeks ago, while at the movie theater, I get a call and message left to return the call.  That conversation led to me joining a staff who are dedicated to helping high school dropouts complete their high school diplomas. I share this because this chain of events is progress for me.  God had the plan and he put me where I needed to be when I needed to be there.

So in our planning to provide further education for our family, the purpose was that each of us would hopefully be able to work at something we enjoyed!  Passion for learning is part of it as well!  There is something about extending your knowledge (or in my case pulling out the 'old knowledge of math') and feeling part of something meaningful.

Our final big plan together was to build our retirement home!  We knew we wouldn't leave Texas permanently with our kids and grandkids here so we started looking at our options.  We looked at this community for active seniors and Dennis was convinced.  Me -- not so much!  (I didn't want to live with the old folks who were cranky and wouldn't like my grandkids around.)  Well I followed Denny's suggestion and we moved into our lovely home in January 2002.  Five months later Dennis got the diagnosis of Alzheimer's with life expectancy about ten years.  Wham!  What a slap in the face that was!  I was absolutely frozen in fear that I wouldn't be able to stay in this home (financially).  Well, here I am and I know God had a hand in this decision with Dennis.  I couldn't be in a better environment!!  There are no words to describe this community.  It is NOT the house that impresses me so (because it is just a house) but the community makes this a special place to be.  As a widow, I find comfort in the sharing, caring, suppporting and giving personalities that make up this area of 400+ homes.

I have nothing to complain about!  I am financially stable and in a protected secure environment.  I have two wonderful kids and five grandkids who are special in every way!  I love watching their lives evolve and the stages of parenting that come with each age group!  I am hopeful that I will be here to continue being an important part of all their lives for years to come.

But friends and family.. it is lonely at times.. and the sadness comes not in wanting Dennis back with that dreadful disease but a sadness that is my loss of support, encouragement and unconditional love that comes with an investment of years as a married couple committed to one another.  It is my time of being self-centered and thinking of my needs.  But never fear!  I don't allow those times to last long.  With my own perseverence or sometimes the help of a friend --  "I put on my big girl panties and 'suck it up'"!!

I will spend the rest of my life honoring the memory of my loving husband and I will continue to remember that life is for living!  I must move forward in friendships and activities that keep me actively engaged with the wonderful people who appear in my life.  I must and I will remain open to writing a new future!  Just not in any rush.....  As Denny would always say to me, "oh Lin don't worry about all this -- it will work itself out." I was always the serious one and he knew how to relax and enjoy life. It's time I remember how he did it with such ease.

Blessings to all who have shared in my thoughts today.

When the Bottom Falls Out

I started this blog in October.  I was with my brother, Milt who was dying from colon cancer.  And I was still grieving silently for my husband who died one year earlier.  I used the title "What I have learned about faith, hope, love and Alzheimer's because the previous ten years -- Dennis and I lived with a diagnosis and symptoms of Alzheimer's.  In a phone conference with the research team at the Sports Legacy Institute, we received word that Dennis did not have Alzheimer's but instead a trauma induced injury that caused his dementia.  Relieved as I was to be given the final word on his autopsy, there will of course never be answers to the questions: what, when, how and where.  Nor does it matter!  God called him home.

Here I sit 18 months after Denny's passing trying to fake a recovery from  extreme grief and loss.  It is my hope that in sharing these thoughts, I can get them out of my head.  I am tormented by the loneliness and loss of the most important person in my life.  I go to great lengths to deny the torment and indeed it has numbed a bit.  The piercing sorrow does not have the cutting edge a knife but it delivers a pain that is undeniable.

During the months since Milt's pass (early December), I have returned home to celebrate Christmas with our children and grandchildren.  And I must admit it was without a doubt a joyous time.  We created memories and it felt good to have laughter in the home that Dennis and I started in Feb 1970.  Every day since his passing, I have been keenly aware that the closest I will ever feel to Dennis is when I look into the eyes of our children.  That gives me great joy!

But after the festivities of the holidays, there is a calm and quiet that is "empty".  It was during that time that I denied sorrow and started burying myself in hours on my IPad with friends on facebook or Words with Friends.  Along with the IPad, I maintained a steady flow of comfort foods.  I ate what I wanted when I wanted.  All seemed harmless enough.  After all -- who was I hurting.  And to the comfort I find in food, I can say with great shame that I have gained almost 20 pounds in 18 months.  Food has become my drug of choice.  And in that moment when I swallow 'the drug' it feels good.  It is satisfying.

A few weeks ago, I went on a weekend retreat- a Presbyterian Pilgrimage.  The pilgrimage is much like the Catholic Cursillo and in fact that is where it all started.  When I heard about the pilgrimage and discovered I did not have to be Presbyterian, I jumped at the opportunity to go on a retreat.  My prayer was that it would help me move forward to understanding what the rest of my life is meant to be.  "Why am I still here and Dennis is gone?"

Well the weekend retreat was phenominal but I didn't get the answers I went looking for.  Instead I found a Christian community filled with love and acceptance for complete strangers.  I didn't think it was possible to feel that much love with strangers but it was there!  It was real!  I explain it as choirs of angels celebrating and proclaiming God's love.  When I closed my eyes and took it all in -- I could only smile thinking how great it must be to be in Heaven.  The faces weren't important it was the love and the overwhelming joy that prevailed.  Before you cast this off as religious fanaticism, I assure you this isn't any 'holy roller' church revival tent experience (attended  those as a kid).  The result of so much love was that I didn't want to lose it.  I didn't want to walk away from that environment.  I was learning something about myself.

When I speak of the 'bottom falling out', it is that drastic drop to sorrow that hits me like a bolt of lightening out of nowhere.  Youngest granddaughter spent the night last night and it was so much fun just cuddling with this sweet child and playing our little games.  Then I went to watch the youngest grandson play basketball.  Watching 7 year olds play 'basketball' is quite a treat.  One can't help but smile.  After all that I went to see a movie (comedy) and laughed at the silly humor in a crowded theater.  But it was the drive home that sorrow suddenly reared it ugly head.  It made me angry!  Oh how I wish I could just scream, and hit, and throw things to get past this helpless feeling.  Damn it makes me mad!

Why Denny?  Why not me?  I will never know for sure but I think I am starting to understand just a bit.  You see as a child separated from parents, I hid my pain and feelings of abandonment by loving on and caring for my little brother who needed me.  Also I worked very hard to please those who were my caregivers during those formative years as a youngster.  I became a master at being a 'people pleaser'.  When my mother remarried and we were united, I had a stepfather (who later adopted us).  I certainly wanted him to love me so I did everything I was asked so he would never leave.

Then my folks had their first child together.  I became withdrawn and solemn once again.  It made me sad to think they had a child together and that he would be loved more than me.  Then a couple years later a little sister came.  along.  Both parents had to work.  Dad worked days...mom worked nights.  I became the caregiver once again.  The one thing I knew how to do was love and care for others.

It wasn't until high school that I met someone who treated me with great respect and became my friend.  Denny and I were just best friends.  As one of my high school friends said at our 40th reunion --"When you latched on to Dennis, you never let go."  She was right!  He made me feel special.  Anyone who knew him, knew he was a serious athlete!  Swimming was his passion and love.  I was just his friend who was always there when he wanted a date to go somewhere.  I felt safe with him.  I saw in him early the traits of a good person who treated others with respect and dignity.  He never said anything bad about anyone.  And no matter what he accomplished -- he was humble.  Most important he was a person of faith.  We spent countless hours sharing our beliefs and our faith in God.

So when I speak of the bottom falling out -- that is what happened when Denny passed away.  For 7 years of dating and 41 years of marriage, I felt unconditional love.  I had a caregiver who loved me and stood by me even during the toughest of times.  Never once did I believe he was walking away.  Never once did I have any reason to doubt his love.  And I will fully admit, 'he spoiled me'.  And I remember a teacher friend saying to me years back, "you are the only woman I know who has never said anything bad about your husband."  To that comment I responded -- there was nothing bad ever to say.

For me the bottom falling out is losing Denny's comfort, support, encouragement and love.  I lost my life partner and only true caregiver!  What I am left with is a broken mess.  I am starting to believe that I am still here because God is giving me time----!!!!!  Time to learn to love myself.  Throughout life I have always been able to love others and love God. I hope I have comforted others, supported others, encouraged others and been loyal to my friends and family along the way. In return I know with some certainty there are others who love me just as I am but I have NOT learned to love myself.  God is giving me time.

My fetish with food and my self-loathing are destructive patterns that are symptoms of much work to be done.  Dr. Phil would say, "you can't fix what you don't own" or something like that.  Oh and "how is that all working for you?"  Thank you Jesus for this time.  Grieving is complicated on many levels.  I have more good days than bad.  And one of my challenges is not to OVERTHINK things and reflect on lessons to be learned.

For now I am here!  Writing is therapeutic for me.  If none of this makes sense to anyone but me -- well I understand because I am not sure it all makes sense to me.  But I know that when I take time to throw my raw emotion in words, it releases some of the silent sorrow that still lives deep in my heart.  I don't worry what others might think reading this, if you took time to read all of this, you either care about me or my family so you will know I am okay.  Today was one of those days when the bottom fell out ... but tomorrow is a new day.  I am blessed.

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Sometimes

Sometimes God breaks our spirit to save our soul.

Sometimes He breaks our heart to make us whole.

Sometimes God allows pain so we can be stronger.

Sometimes God sends us failure so we can be humble.

Sometimes God allows illness so we can take better care of ourselves.

Sometimes God takes everything away from us 

so we can learn the value of everything He gave us.

--unknown

Decisions Make a Difference

There are many decisions married couples make that seem to be only concerned with the immediate future.  When in reality many of those decisions will mark the cornerstone for the future.

In 1976, Dennis had the opportunity to move to Texas and become a swim coach once again.  He had been unable to find teaching/coaching positions after finishing his masters degree.  So when this invitation to interview came -- he asked me to go with him for the trip.  He wanted to make sure I would be happy with the place before accepting any job.  In a step of faith, I just told him it wasn't necessary for me to travel with him.  What was important at that time was knowing that my husband had a job he loved.  As his wife, I was ready to follow him to "the moon and back" if it would be something to make him happy.

Well he flew to Pasadena, Texas and the rest is history.  He loved the people.  His voice was full of excitement and enthusiasm for a hopeful future doing the one thing he loved most - coaching.  When he asked me what I thought, I said, "Sign the contract and find us a place to live before you leave there."
That was in May.  We packed up our two youngsters, a boat and two vehicles and made the trip to a new life -- a new future.  As we left our home town and families, there wasn't a dry eye.  This was a huge separation from our families.

Shortly after moving to Pasadena, we started looking for a home (we were in apartment).  We found a cute little house (and I thought this is perfect for a few years then we can return back to Iowa).  Once settled in the new house, it became apparent that the Coach was much loved and in great demand.  Here I was with the little ones -- alone, lonely and desperately homesick.  After mumbling about being homesick non-stop, Dennis encouraged me to attend San Jacinto College ($4 per sem hr).  He said it would get me out and help me meet people.  I would go to school in the daytime while the kids were in school.

I got started and it was indeed inspiring and I did meet many individuals who were working to improve their future.  After four semesters at San Jac, I was burnt out!  I wanted to quit.  I was overwhelmed with being mom, wife and student.  Dennis was the one who listened quietly then gave me his reassuring talk, "Don't quit Lin.  You are taking 18 hrs each semester and it is way too much.  Just back off to 12 hrs.  Give yourself some relief but don't QUIT."  He went on to say he didn't care if I ever taught a day in my life but it would be good to finish the Bachelor's degree (with elementary teaching certification) so I would always have it to fall back on.

That next semester I transferred on to UH/CLC and went on to finish that teaching degree.  In 1982, I accepted my first teaching position as a math teacher in Intermediate school.  I absolutely loved my job.  I have told my students many times -- "Find a career that brings out your passion."  (Even now at age 65, I can honestly say I drove to work each morning feeling so fortunate that I would be doing what I love most - teaching.  That leaves it to your imagination that I just loved working with youth.)

Then in 1990, when our son left for college, I went back to get my master's degree.  Dennis was so encouraging.  His words were.."go get your master's and I will take care of things here at the house."  Fortunately for me that became my path to a Master's in Education with Supervision and Mid-Management certification.  An incredible journey of support, encouragement, mentoring and love made it possible for this homesick "girl" from Iowa to fulfill her dreams in the field of education.

In 2001, Dennis and I started looking for a retirement home.  We looked for about six months before making the decision to move to Bella Vita (a gated community for active seniors).  I wasn't keen on the idea. Afterall we would be moving in with the "older folks".  Once again, after many conversations, I relented to his suggestion that this would be the best place for us in our "golden years".  We live one block from a club house (with ballroom, fitness center, computer center, swimming pool and lake).

After about 6 months of moving in, we got the diagnosis of Alzheimer's for Dennis.  Our future shattered in just a few difficult words that brought no cure and no hope beyond ten years.  Denial worked well for both of us for at least five years -- and if you have read my blog, you know the rest.

This post is about decisions made by my husband who I trusted and respected always.  They were decisions we made together but I was hesitant -- following in faith.  Now that I am facing life as his widow, I can embrace the fact that our move to Texas was absolutely the right choice for all of us.  This homesick Iowa girl would never have gone on to get the college education had it not been for the move.

Now my time here in Bella Vita is different without my husband but it is a community of support and encouragement.  There is always someone to talk to and someone who relates.  It is just a matter of stepping out the door and attending the wide variety of activities or walking on the lake to see neighbors.

Dennis was a huge part of my educational accomplishments.  Now that education has been exponentially important as I work through the grieving process continuing to help others and serving the students of Pasadena ISD.  Our school district has become my professional family and their support is priceless.

Our decision to move to Bella Vita has been much more than a home and beautiful surroundings. Living in Bella Vita gives me the community experience that I need to face these years ahead.

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My absence from blogging has been directly influenced by the past few weeks of "missing Denny".  I have been in some dark places with days I didn't even want to get out of bed.  Finally, I am back to proclaiming how blessed I really am.  I am embarrassed and a bit ashamed that I fall in these moods still but I know what it takes "to pull myself back up".  

If you are reading this blog, "Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  You are standing in good company with Dennis who is always steadfast in his support."

Marriage and the Moves

I left that weekend from Eastern New Mexico University, Portales, NM with no committment other than working on our relationship to see where it might go.  With no renewed intimacy but rather a depth of conversation about life and what our futures might become, I returned to break an engagement with a wonderful young man who I loved but was not "in love with".  [This could have very well been a life altering mistake had I married. It is a lesson for all who may fall in love but not be "in love" --- there is a difference that must be understood.]

And it came to pass that after college, Dennis got his first teaching assignment in Dubuque, Iowa.  We spent a great deal of time together and so it goes that our long distance relationship that started in high school --- was confirmed in marriage February 7, 1970.  

Very soon after we were married, Dennis was drafted into the Army.  We lived at Ft. Sill Oklahoma when our son was born that next September.  Then in January 1971, was commissioned as a Staff Sergeant with the 101st Airborne Division and was sent to Viet Nam.  Back in those days, there was no email.  There was only "snail mail" and we were lucky if our letters could make the transAtlantic trip in no more than two weeks.  Scott was just a few months old so I kept busy with a new born as I waited for his return.  

When Dennis returned from his deployment, we moved to Dubuque with hopes he would get his old job back.  Well that didn't happen!  He had a job but it wasn't what he wanted.  With the GI Bill available for going to college, we decided he would enroll at the University of Northern Iowa to get his Master's degree in Health and Physical Education.  Before finishing his master's we were blessed with a daughter who seemed to complete our family of four.  

With a few moves and a few setbacks seeking the job that had a future, Dennis eventually accepted his position to Coach swimming in Pasadena, Texas.  We left our families behind as we moved our caravan of furnishings, vehicles and a boat to Texas in 1976.  Never could I have realized what a difficult transition this would be.  Dennis was absolutely beside himself with joy working at a job he loved.  I was at home with two little ones and did not know a soul.  I was lonely and HOMESICK.

I knew Dennis as a confident person who knew no limitations on life.  His motto was “the only real limitations in life are the ones we put on ourselves” AND “the only thing that holds us back is the fear of failure”.  So after moving to Texas, (with his support and encouragement), I went on to get my bachelor’s degree in education.  He never pushed but always encouraged.  I recall one time when I had "burn out".  I was talking of dropping out -- he listened quietly and then suggested that I not give up -- but that I needed to back up from taking 18 cr hrs per semester and take no more than 12.  I followed his suggestion and it helped me tremendously!  I finished and realized my dream to be a teacher in 1982.

After 10 years of teaching, I went back to get a Master’s degree in Education with Mid-management and Supervision certification.  As an educator, I was a teacher, technology instructional specialist, peer facilitator, and assistant principal.

This story isn’t as important as it is for you to understand the love and encouragement that helped me rise above childhood circumstances that continued to plague my confidence.  Dennis taught me to live life, reach out for something with passion and to put myself in a situation where I can get up every morning looking forward to the day ahead and the challenges it brings. Now when I listen to swimmers and others speak of what lessons they learned with Dennis -- I am drawn to the irony that those are the same life lessons we lived in our personal lives.  It was who he was ......

He was the most spiritual man I have ever known.  He lived his faith. He demonstrated kindness, encouragement, compassion and support of others. Simply put – Dennis has been my strength and my rock. He has always been by my side. He loved me unconditionally.

Now when I look back, I can more clearly understand the gift I was given.  God gave me a gift of unconditional love and acceptance in a man who lived his life with great joy and a positive attitude.  He modeled for me the way to stand strong and embrace life with all its gifts and challenges.  With him by my side -- it seemed there was nothing I couldn't do.  

Background of the Little Girl

Before I started blogging, I made several attempts at writing a "book" as a tool for therapeutic writing.  I got about 44 pages written when I realized I was getting bogged down in structure, timing, details, semantics, correct grammar, always complete sentences.  I had 25 chapters titled and would jump around depending on where my thoughts were on any given day.  I have those pieces saved for reference.  

Today I want to take you inside the life of a little girl who was by all standards defined by negative experiences at a very young age. Of course the little girl is me.  My only purpose in sharing these personal details is that it will help others better understand my early abandonment issues (separated from parents) and now as I see the finality of my life those feelings of abandonment once again rear their ugly head.  With Denny, I came to realize my value as a human being.  His love made me feel special; made me feel confident; gave me the security and unconditional love I had always longed for.  His human touch, his voice, his physical presence and his reassuring guidance are what I miss most.  

So here is an excerpt from the beginning of a "book" started months ago......  and oh by the way the book title is :  WITH A PATCH ON HER EYE (as a little girl I had lazy eye and I wore a patch for about three years)

This is the story of love, grief and faith.  My hope is that by writing this, I can finally put my childhood, my married life and the past 10 years of Alzheimer’s in perspective.  As time passes, I know my plans for life only carried me as far as God allowed.  It was always HIS plan that prevailed.  God’s plan took me to the darkest times of despair. During those periods of darkness there was much loneliness, sorrow, insecurity, shame and grief. As a young adult, I did all I could to escape that darkness hoping never to return or mention it in the future.  It has taken me 60+ years and the death of my husband to better understand what that was all about.  It took me a lifetime to see the good in a somewhat tragic story of loss and loneliness.  But now I see clearly that all I experienced in life has given me an understanding and sensitivity to how God works miracles in our lives.  I keep walking away from writing this story because I feel inadequate to put this in words.  But now I am compelled with all my imperfections and shortcomings to express in the best way possible …. What I have learned about faith, hope, love and Alzheimer’s.

In telling my story, I should start with some background information.  My mother was seven years old when her father passed.  By all accounts, he was the nurturing and loving parent. My mother was promptly sent to live with a married sister who had no children.  For reasons unknown to me, my mother spent her summers at home but was expected to work cleaning and caring for children during the week only to bring the money home to her mom on weekends then return again. Then at the young age 14 my mother married with her mother’s prompting.  At age 15 – she had me.  At age 17- she had my brother.  And by age 19 she was divorced at a time when divorce was not acceptable in society.  She sought help from family to keep this little family together but was encouraged to put us in an orphanage.  Mom chose instead to find a good church family to care for us while she worked in an Ordinance Plant during the war.  They were good people who had children our ages but they were not our parents. This period of time was difficult.  Countless nights were spent crying softly wondering what was happening…“Where was my mom?  When would she return? Why didn’t anyone care?”   To avoid the hurt, I kept myself mentally busy caring for and protecting (when needed) my little brother. You might say I became a surrogate mother.  At the age of 7, our family was reunited when Mom married our step dad.  Everyone was happy!  So happy that he went on to file for adoption so we were indeed one family. 

Before the adoption, our last name was different from our parents. Different last names tagged the children of divorce.  And in those days, divorce was unacceptable in society.  Children with divorced parents were not accepted with other children.  There was a stigma that hurt when you are young and you hear “you can’t play with her – her parents are divorced”. In the community, I was an outcast but in school I found a place where I could feel good about myself.  I wasn’t the smartest little girl in my class but I worked very hard.  I soon learned that in school, I could share a common bond with others who were working hard.  There were no acceptable excuses – “you are from divorced family, you are a child of poverty, your mother had only an 8^th grade education“--- no, at school there were no excuses!  No limitations were put in place.  The only expectation was to work hard and do my best. So throughout my early  years of school, I was nobody in the neighborhood but somebody in the classroom.

Then at age 10 additional siblings began to arrive.  Financially times were difficult.  Poverty was visible.  Mother had to work nights and Dad worked days returning home to care for kids.  In all honesty, being the oldest it was apparent to me at a young age (fact or perception) that I was responsible for caring for younger siblings, cooking and cleaning the house. 

I tell you this story because here was a child who by today’s standards did NOT have a chance to be successful in life.  She was born into poverty, divorced parents (who had no more than an 8^TH grade education), and lived on the wrong side of town.  But when she went to school – she found a place to “feel like she measured up to other people” because she carried no “labels”.

Our family moved on several occasions trying to establish financial stability.  With each move there were new schools, new teachers, new neighbors and new friends.  My insecurities away from school made it difficult for me to find an essential stability for social interactions.  During junior high my family finally settled in a house that became the family homestead (even to this day).  But it was not until I started high school that I experienced a place of acceptance that I yearned for in school and among friends.

As a sophomore in high school, I met a young man in Literature class. What caught my eye was his quiet but cordial demeanor that acknowledged others and welcomed each with a smile.  Later Dennis would become an All-American swimmer and class officer.  He was the guy who was later (junior/senior) nominated for King of the Gala Dance.  In fact, our first date was that Gala Dance.  Girls would ask boys to be their date.  It was my chance to ask this great guy in my literature class to be my date.  But there was no way I would do it face-to-face.  No, I would call him. And of course when I called (girls didn’t call boys back then ).. his mother answered.  He was not home.  He called me later.  I asked if he had a date…he said no.  Then in my awkward way I asked if he would like to go with me.  Before he could even answer, I said “you don’t have to if you don’t want.  I know Jill and some other girls who want to ask you and you may want to go with them.”  He chuckled and said, “Sure I will go with you.”  And that is when it all began.  After that dance we were best friends. His first love was swimming.  With him I felt safe.  The fact that he liked me – made me feel special for the first time. 

As time passed, I became more drawn to this friendship.  Dennis’ life was drastically different than mine.  His mother never worked.  He never went to sleep wondering if someone loved him.  He had two loving parents who supported him in all his life, school and athletic endeavors.  He was a humble person who both admired and respected by many. And most important, he was spiritually strong and exuded his faith in every part of his life.  In our many discussions, I never let my guard down to let him know the depth of my childhood experiences.  Outwardly, I demonstrated the confidence and out-going personality that he was drawn to during those high school years.  Certainly I would not allow myself to revisit those years of sorrow and shame. I thought I could successfully keep it hidden.

Dennis was my ‘best friend’!  We dated, we talked, we went for walks, we discussed faith, we discussed life and of course we discussed the future.  Upon graduation, Dennis accepted a scholarship to swim at Eastern New Mexico University.  I went on to the State College of Iowa for that freshman year.  We wrote letters and dated when we were both home.  With time, things dwindled for him and I was crushed.  Homesick and sad I returned home after that freshman year not to return.  That summer and subsequent summers, we saw one another but the long periods of absence were difficult and the letters were fewer. 

I went on to get a good paying job working on computers. I got a nice apartment with friends and bought a new Camaro ’67.  I finally decided I had to get over this relationship that appeared to be going nowhere.  I started dating a nice young man who had a college education and worked in his dad’s advertising business.  We shared a love of sports cars.  Soon we were in a whirlwind romance.  He too was a spiritual man and with him I felt safe.  Within a few months, he asked me to marry him.  I loved him and said yes!  My parents loved him.  My roommates loved him.  My friends loved him.  One day we were looking at new homes.  It was an amazing day and I felt like I was living a fairy tale.  Then it happened!  We were walking through a master bedroom and John turned to ask me how I like it.  I stuttered to say it was perfect – because it was!  But in that moment, I was stunned by one thought.  I could not imagine going to bed with John!  He was not sexually aggressive so I had not experienced that yearning desire to make love to him.  I understood in that moment that I loved him but was NOT in love with him.  I knew the difference because when I was with Dennis, I could always feel my heart pounding and my desires for him were ever present. Wow!  I remember thinking what do I do now?  Will that come?  Everything else was perfect. 

During my quiet searching for answers, I had to acknowledge to myself that I had fleeting thoughts of Dennis.  What would he think if he knew I was engaged?  Was he dating anyone special?  Did he still have feelings for me?  Needing answers – I called him that summer while he was attending summer school.  We had a lengthy conversation.  It was one where I shared my engagement that was meant with quiet.  I spoke of my indecision.  He spoke of dating another but that did not work out.  We left the conversation with an understanding to speak again soon.  Hanging up – I knew I had to break off the engagement.  Even if Dennis and I never got together, I could not marry John.  But I had to be sure.  Was I just fantasizing about Dennis?? Well I did the unthinkable.  I flew to New Mexico without even telling him I was coming.  I had to see him and look in his eyes and be with him to know for sure. 

Legacy of the Coach

Before I share the tribute that was given by a former swimmer at Denny's Memorial in Houston, I want to go back and share the Swimmers Reunion we hosted when Dennis retired.

It was a birthday surprise in February 2004.  We started early in the fall spreading the word.  Then I was blessed to find a former swimmer (Scott) who was a professtional webmaster.  He took the information and created a beautiful website honoring coach and inviting swimmers from years past to his retirement celebration.

The best part on the website was individuals having the opportunity to send Dennis a personal message of congratulations.  And on the same site there were instructions regarding registration for the dinner event here in Bella Vita Ballroom.

I had decided that with the progression of dementia, the best celebration for Dennis was not just to have adult friends and coaches honor his years of service but for those he touched daily to have that opportunity.  With great excitement, we saw the numbers of registrations grow beyond expectation.  Former athletes and former swim parents came from miles around here in Texas.  Others flew in from other parts of the country.

When Dennis returned home late January, I told him what we were doing.  His excitement was all I needed to know this was the right decision.  Each day I would give him an update of who was coming.  And of course, I could not leave out the Athletic Director and High School Principal (both friends) who had supported Dennis and stood behind him when the end of his career was evident.

We hosted the tribute and friends from Bella Vita served the catered dinner menu.  There were stories told of years past and a great deal of laughter as those in attendance poked fun at their beloved coach and themselves.  That retirement party was a great success thanks to Scott (webmaster), our daughter-in-law Melissa (who took reservations and handled money) and all those who found it important to attend.

Ironically, it was many of these same swimmers (40+ yrs old) who visited Dennis in the hospital and who attended his final farewell - The Celebration of Life.

Now I want to share with you the eulogy written and spoken at that final farewell.  It speaks volumes to the man that Dennis was -- coach, mentor, advisor, parent and spiritual leader.
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Coach

Everyone remembers Coach, even those who did not know him personally. He was a master swimmer, achieving many victories throughout his lifetime. He could be seen riding his bike to work, swimming in his off time, working on swim schedules during lunchtime and picking up trash in and around the pool area at any given time. That's how he lived his life.

But those of us who swam under Coach’s leadership, will remember him in a  more profound, endearing, infinite way.

Coach was a man of few words, but it's not what Coach said that he will be remembered for. It’s what he didn’t say. 

In fact, it’s what Coach Shippey DID that will be his legacy. It’s how he lived his life. 

Coach was a leader, leading by example, instead of lectures. He lived his life each day, honoring his values of mutual respect, perseverance and commitment to excellence in everything he did. Always.

Coach was a cheerleader when we raced, a drill sergeant when we slacked off, a teacher if we needed lessons, a boss if we rebelled and a friend when we graduated. It’s how he lived his life.  Much of what we learned about how to live life, we learned in high school, through Coach’s example. 

Although he was not a talkative man, we knew when Coach was proud of us, concerned about us, upset with us and we also knew that he honestly loved coaching us. We knew. His actions always spoke so much louder than his words.  It's how he lived his life. 

Just recently, I began reflecting on what Coach Shippey meant to me at this point in my life, almost three decades after graduating. And what I realized is that - unknowingly, I had taken him with me after I graduated, through college and all through my twenty six years in education. Coach has been here with me all along, in the shape of a mentor, a cheerleader, a drill sergeant, a teacher, a boss and a friend – to my own students. Because the way he lived his life, in many ways became the way I tried to live MY life. 

Each one of us knows which part of Coach we took with us after graduation. And we know which part will stay with us, living on, living in us. 

This is Coach's legacy - that he will live on in all of us here in this room, in some way, shape or form. Now and always. 

At some point today, as you reminisce with those in attendance, look closely at their character, listen closely to their attitude  - you will find Coach. He’s here. Now, and always. 

We will miss you, Coach Shippey. The victories in your life were many, but your final victory is the sweetest of them all - where the pool water is always crystal clean, the roads are always paved, your pain has fallen away and your spirit has been restored. 

Rest in peace, Coach.

September 10, 2011

Susan Stevens Langlois

Celebration of Life

When at the Cottage the morning of August 31, 2011, we walked into the room where Denny had spent the last 9 months of his life.  There laid his lifeless body.  Soon we were notified the funeral home had arrived to take the body.  We were given a few minutes then in walked a handsome young man who said quietly, "He was my Coach."  Not recognizing this person, I was questioning and he was forthcoming with a story that comforted all of us.

It seems that he (can't remember his name) had been coached by Dennis as a youngster in summer league.  He didn't go to Dobie but he never forgot Denny's approach to coaching (and life).  He said I always admired Coach...so much so that now I have a little girl who swims.  She will get frustrated when she doesn't think she did well in competition.  I will look at her and bring back those old familiar words from Coach, "Did you do your best?  And if you did ... you are already a winner. If not just get it right the next time."  We chatted for a bit and shared stories that definitely lifted the spirits of everyone in that room.

When we all left the Cottage for the drive home, I reflected on references in the Bible that our body is a vessel.  Never was that more evident that when I saw Denny's lifeless body.  The man I loved and cherished for almost 47 years was gone.  His body was all that remained.  It was in that thought that I came to a much deeper understanding that our bodies are how we recognize one another and engage in human contact.  But it is the spirit of that person (their soul, their personna, their connection) that we love so much.  I don't know that I can adequately explain the feeling I had in that moment but it was all consuming.

Scott and I went about the day making various arrangements at the funeral home, at the church and looking carefully at how to celebrate Dennis' life.  When everything seemed to come together, Scott said, "I am amazed at how calm and smooth this day has been.  But Mom I guess you have had ten years to think about this day and what you wanted to do."  I assured him that was indeed true.

Grief during those first few days was held at bay. I chose to be thankful for God's mercy in taking Dennis.  Dennis had already passed long before -- in the end we were caring for and managing a disease of dementia.  Arrangements were made to have my siblings fly in for Denny's service.  Because he was being cremated, we chose to hold the service the weekend after Labor Day.  The timing of all that seemed to work out best for everyone.

I live in an active seniors community and the support of those neighbors was incredible not only at the time of Denny's passing but throughout the ten years. Soon after the diagnosis, I was open to neighbors regarding Dennis condition.  From that time on, he was everyone's 'favorite' as they kept out an eye for him and his safety.  So it was no surprise when I got a knock on the door -- a good friend (and neighbor) stopped by to say she would take care of all arrangements for a luncheon after our service.  What an incredible gift it was in that moment to be able to let go of any thoughts regarding those details.  She arranged with the 'church ladies' for food and even networked with the school district for using the cafeteria at the high school when Dennis coached over 30 years.

After a few days, Scott returned home to his family and I was for the first time ... alone.  It didn't take long for the tears to fall.  I decided to cover our dining room table with loads of pictures to capture this wonderful man's life.  As I took the pictures out tears accompanied the placement of each.  At one point I was laying on the floor crying softly to release some of the sorrow.  I continued this placement of pictures until the table was full.  The tears came in waves of relief, sorrow and great loss.  I went to sleep that night totally exhausted.  Waking the next morning I paused at that table with a new awareness.  By putting those pictures out, I came to the realization I was grieving the loss of my husband before Alzheimer's.  I had been so busy caring for him with dementia that I had no time to even look back at the man he used to be.  So the tears were meant to be... but they were not of his passing on August 31 so much ...as they were of missing my one true love and the journey we shared from the time I was 15 years old.  

And so it was that we celebrated Denny's life.  It was exactly what he would have wanted.  Longtime friends did the readings at mass.  Our favorite priest and deacon were on board for the celebration!  A longtime swim parent (Mr. Richmond) spent countless hours making a dvd of pictures to commemorate Denny's life from childhood. That display of pictures and music of spiritual celebration was shown both at the church and at the luncheon.  The night of the Rosary, our son and daughter both spoke of their father and the impact he had on their lives.  It was extremely touching when Sondra shared stories of childhood incidents where her dad gave her comfort.  She remembered hiding behind his legs knowing he was her protector.

Before the Vigil started, I had a tense conversation with our oldest grandson.  Ian was particularly close to Grandpa.  He wasn't particular fond of or "into" the whole religious ceremony stuff.  I just asked that he respect our way of celebrating.  So it was with great surprise when Scott and Sondra finished speaking and an invitation was given for others who may want to speak -- Ian walked to the podium.  I remember my heart racing in concern.  None of us knew he was going to speak.  I cannot begin to tell you the words he spoke but they were heartfelt, full of love, to the point and made his grandpa (and me) proud.  All I could think was WOW!  His message in that moment was a gift.  I thought I had planned every detail but that was nothing that I had a hand in.  So many in attendance praised Ian's message and were impressed he spoke a message of great admiration for grandpa.

The next day we had the full mass.  Family friends did the readings and at the end, it was Denny's best friend Bruce who gave a most personal eulogy to his buddy that dated back to the days of youth swimming in Iowa up to the final years of his life.  He brought a message of the impact Denny had on many lives by demonstrating his love for God, family, community and swimming.  In addition to that, one of Denny's former students gave a heartfelt tribute to the Coach on behalf of all swimmers and swim parents.  Closing mass with these personal memories helped bring to life of unselfish service to others.

There were more than 200 in attendance.  Father had all those in attendance to stand if Dennis was their coach (large numbers stood who were in their 40s).  It was amazing to see that after many years, these swimmers who now had careers and families of their own were so touched by his life that they were in attendance to honor Coach this one last time.

At the luncheon, I think the comment I heard most was what a beautiful celebration it had been.  We had successfully found the balance of laughter that happiness that overshadowed much of the sorrow.  That was our tribute to Dennis and a life well lived.