Coffee and Grief

This is what a widow looks like…

This is what a motherless daughter looks like…

This is what a fatherless daughter times two looks like…

This is what grief looks like…

In four years I lost 3 family members. Not including being estranged from my bio-dad in 2010 after grad school graduation. He up and left with his new family and never made contact with me again. That’s why my step-dad of 40 years became my “Jad” (his name was Joe so I called him “Jad”). That’s a lot of loss in a short period of time.

I learned how to handle my first loss in 2017 with the help of friends, family, a therapist and a personal trainer. I spent 5 glorious weeks in Rome learning to heal through food, coffee, culture and a long-term friendship. For once someone took care of me. I didn’t have to think, just heal. It worked. I was healing.

I went back to work ready to face new challenges and be a better person having gone through the hardest thing I had ever experienced in my life. Not to mention the trauma and PTSD from that experience. It was so bad that I couldn’t watch hospital scenes on TV. Even though my brain knew it was for drama, it was still too close to home. I spent a lot of time in the hospital; I’d log 14-16 hours in the room keeping my late wife company. I even slept with ear plugs, eye mask, face mask and gloves. It wasn’t great sleep so we all decided that I should sleep at home even if it was only for four hours.

My best friend would come and get me to help me recharge; we would go to Denny’s, Chili’s, or grab coffee somewhere. As a caregiver you have to learn to take care of you too. It was hard to leave, but it was important for my mental health as well even if my heart didn’t like it.

I became a widow at 47. We had an amazing 10 years together. It wasn’t all sadness and sickness. We went to Fiji, Tahiti, Hawaii, Thailand, Cambodia, Indonesia, and Hong Kong. We had a great life and I am thankful to have been there for her. Vanessa was a sensitive and beautiful person and she wanted me to mourn her, but not be lonely. She wanted me to be happy and find love again.

I thought that would never happen because who wants a widow? We’re damaged, sad, stuck in the past, or you’re competing with a ghost. These were my thoughts. I figured I’d be alone for the rest of my life, untouchable by another because the other person would think I couldn’t be in love them as much as I loved someone before. I had massive fear of rejection. Massive fear of loneliness and massive sadness.

Never knowing or realizing that I was very much wrong.

Enter Brandi. She didn’t run because I was a widow. She didn’t feel like she was competing with a ghost. She didn’t say the wrong things, in fact she said the most perfect things to me. I had no idea someone would ever love me the way she does. I had no idea that my late wife gave me tools to help me understand Brandi’s sensitive heart. And because Brandi and I went through so much trauma we are able to really help each other and work together to fix a situation or work through a problem. We both see signs that Ness approves of this relationship. I know that Ness and Brandi would have been great friends had they ever had the chance to meet.

When I told my in-laws about Brandi they were very happy for me. We met up for dinner and I told them all about how we met at her coffee shop and showed them pictures of her and us. They were thrilled that I was happy again. Mind you, I had tried to push them away after I came back from Rome. They knew what I was doing and they weren’t having any of it. We still talk and text regularly. Every few months or so just to check in, catch up on who’s doing what, our various travels and just connect. This family has been my pillar. They are understanding since we all went through the same trauma and we were all there when the crap hit the fan. They broke the mold with this family and I am so glad they stuck around and didn’t let me push them away. Love you MKamps!!


Grief is a bitch.

There is no wrong way to go through it, only the way you feel.

I woke up every day waiting to be on the other side of it. The sad, sleepless nights, the unhungry moments that lead to poor diet and unhealthy weight loss sucked, but I had to go through it my way to understand what rock bottom, for me, felt like. It felt like shit and the only thing that got me through was coffee.

I met friends for coffee, even if I couldn’t drink it, I still ordered it because I loved the smell. I loved how my favorite coffee shops felt like a warm blanket in my sad lonely world. Coffee was my solace in Rome. And coffee is what brought Brandi into my life.

Coffee and I have had a very long and open-relationship; we’ve always been there for each other.

Grief and coffee are very much linked for me. My mom loved coffee, she introduced me to coffee (see https://coffeefitnessunicorn.com/2021/10/26/coffee-lover-not-coffee-snob/comment-page-1/#comment-241). At the hospital we would see a little coffee cart outside a patient’s room (we didn’t know that was actually something you didn’t want to see as that meant it was very bad for the patient and that was a way for the hospital to provide comfort). I had to switch to decaf when I was a very fresh widow as my emotions made me feel sick to my stomach daily for several months. Then I was able drink half-caff for a few months after that until I could handle full strength once again. Grief and coffee were battling with me. Grief felt like it was winning, but coffee never gave up.

Grief maybe a bitch, but coffee is a badass warrior who always fights for me.

6 thoughts on “Coffee and Grief

    • The Medic way is the best way. Operation Overload was a success.
      Also, I’ll never forget all your fitness stuff on the counter and all the nuts and tuna packets. I didn’t understand it all until I started my fitness journey. I need to buy some goodies!! Nutrition store here I come!!!

  1. I’m glad you wrote this. I don’t think we talk about death (and its effect on people) in this culture as much as we should. We treat it like something that needs to be held at arm’s length at all times and never discussed when people who are grieving need to be allowed to talk as much or as little as they want/need to. Because of that, we don’t have rituals or talismans that help us through our darkest moments. I’m glad you found yours through coffee. It might seem like such a little thing, but it was your life raft and we need something like that when we’re at our lowest. Even the simplest touchstone is what can guide us back to ourselves. And I too am glad you were able to find love again. You are a wonderful person and you deserve to be loved.

    I can relate to PTSD and grief: I lost four family members (both grandmothers, a grandfather, and my dad) in a six year period, from ages seven to thirteen. And seven years after that, the uncle who became my surrogate father died. I sometimes think all of that made me a bit hesitant to reach out and connect with more people than I have. Which is why I’m grateful for our friendship!

    (Sorry for the essay — I’ve been thinking of mortality a lot the past few days and this post hit on some of the things I’ve been mulling over.)

  2. I never thought of coffee like that
    But it really has been a constant companion. Some of the most compassionate moments people have shown me involved coffee. It’s the words when there non to say. quanto sei bella caffè ❤️

  3. This was heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. Please accept my heartfelt condolences for your losses in recent years; they do get easier with time, I promise. And I’m so happy that you and Brandi are loved and appreciated the way you deserve to be! I feel the same way as your late wife; something happens to me, I don’t want Hubby to spend the rest of his life alone. He’s too good of an individual to not be appreciated and loved by someone else.

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