One Year Since the Unthinkable, Has it Gotten Any Better?

When I woke up on that chilly but sunny January 12 Sunday morning last year, just in time for my four-and-a-half-mile run, I never would have imagined that later that evening, my life would be transformed into a dark world of unspeakable measures. A world that I could never imagine to be so bleak, mysterious, and full of unpredictability. My wife, Hava, only 58 years old, left this world without a life-threatening warning, collapsing that evening of a heart attack brought on by complications of undiagnosed diabetes. Not fair on so many fronts, as it became a ripple effect that stretched to families and friends everywhere.

On the frontlines of this demonish wave, my three adult kids have suffered the shocking loss of their mom way too unexpectedly and too early in life. They began expressing their heart-wrenching sadness in different ways, but all asked the same one-word question, "how"? Then there are my in-laws losing their only child, only to come away with unimaginable grief and totally questioning God and turning it all inward, asking, "What did we do wrong? Both sides of our families and our friends, of course shocked and having trouble grasping this cruel life-changing moment. The only bright spot was that everyone came together so sympathetically for us, each other, and the gratitude of that is priceless.

From what we saw of her on the outside, she was fine, but on the inside, a far more tragic and different story of diabetic organ failure, something that was preventable, simply by getting yearly doctor physicals and blood work. Seeing a doctor for that annual check-up was never part of my wife's checklist of life and that was, I feel, the seed that was planted that ended her time with all of us. It wasn't a matter of insurance of money, it was something deeper and how to break this realistic fear. To compare it, it's the mindset of those afraid of heights or rollercoasters. It may be easy for some, but not so easy for others. We all have certain fears, seeing doctors of what they may tell a patient, was Hava's. We're all human and when you get into your 40s and 50s, being on a med or two, is not the end of the world, and it's something that your body will thank you for in the long run. If you can do that, your life may turn out differently.

Going through the four days of what led up to that heartbreaking January 12, 2025, evening is a story in itself and it's a story I told to some. So now I'm here, having made it to a year since I lost her, and to be honest, the grief is still a living, real psychological weight that hasn't subsided. We had a beautiful celebration of what would have been her 59th birthday last April and marked different times of the year in a special way as we continue to remember and grieve. Sure, the shock has worn off for the most part, but every so often, I hear from my wife's family, friends, and colleagues saying that they still cannot stop thinking about her and can't believe she's not among us anymore. When I'm on my daily miles, I constantly think about her in a general sense from the past 30 years. People have gotten spiritual, saying that certain things are "a sign" that she's "here with us." I, myself, step into that mystical world from time to time, but I feel at peace visiting her weekly, where she is laid to rest in Paramus. There, I give her the "week in review," talking about the kids, family, and my own thoughts. I have done that at least 52 times since the funeral last year on January 17. I also signed up for a GriefShare support group last winter for thirteen weeks at a Wyckoff, New Jersey church and that helped tremendously, and they always have my support.

I have had all of my "firsts" without her: (her 59th birthday, my 60th birthday, our 31st wedding anniversary, the holiday season), but other things she sadly missed such as celebrating the first wedding anniversary of my son Zack and his wife Megan last October, their honeymoon last spring and the house they bought over the summer. She also missed Emily's 21st birthday celebration last March, having those daily dinners and fun work stories from Jeremy and getting together with him and his girlfriend Maryam. Then there are those end-of-the-week Friday dinners with the in-laws, seeing my parents, getting together with my sister Jill and her family and seeing my parents.

Then there are special days to come in 2026, such as Emily's college graduation in May, Zachary and Megan's 30th birthdays, and what would have been Hava's 60th on April 29. We often discussed a European trip later this year to sightsee and visit family, celebrating the "end of college payments" milestone as we called it. Hava cherished her family across three continents, her friends, many of whom she had for many years and they meant the world to her. My in-laws were everything to her, my sister and her family, and our friends. She was deeply passionate about them and about life as a whole.

The bottom line is that Hava will always be part of me, wherever life takes me, and I thank her for her love, and the kids that we had were the love of her life. Now, a year later, the depth of sadness and grief is still overbearing and powerful. There are great people whom I have gotten to know along this journey who have been through this, and they know "that same dark feeling," and there are those from the past who also went through this and have been a great source of guidance. Those who have been through losing their spouse can only relate to these feelings; it's an emptiness, a bad dream that is still hard to realize the truth of it all...even a year later.