Monday Mourning: The Death of a Spouse

It has been a few years since I had a Monday Mourning post, but then I started the 2020 Quarantine Book Club on Facebook, and one of the authors in the group wrote a book about the death of her spouse, so I figured I’d see if she would be willing to answer the standard questions I used to ask everyone. And she said yes!

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Billie Best is the author of “How I Made a Huge Mess of My Life (or Couples Therapy with a Dead Man)” an uplifting memoir that dives deep into the power of women in midlife. With poignant humor and brutal honesty, she takes on her broken marriage, cheating, grief, death, downsizing, starting over, and learning to age well.

Who was the person that died?
My husband, Chet.

How old were you at the time?
I was 54.

How old was Chet?
He was 54.

Was it a sudden death or did you know it was going to happen?
He was diagnosed in June 2008 with Stage 4 lung cancer, and after 5 months of chemo and one month of hospice, he died in January 2009.

Did you and Chet ever talk about death?
We talked about death often from the time of his diagnosis to the time of his death. For several years we had lived on a livestock farm where we raised and killed cows and chickens. We discussed how our animals should be killed, we saw good deaths and bad deaths. We had seen my father-in-law die a miserable death, even though he was in hospice, because he refused to discuss his own death and left it to his wife to decide his care. His wife felt death was intended to be a punishment for all we do wrong in life, so she thought it morally just to withhold pain medication from her husband. The memory of his father humiliated by death, writhing in pain on his death bed, had a huge impact on my husband. He knew he wanted to die with dignity.

During the months before his death Chet researched the many ways of dying and celebrating death. He decided that death was the completion of the cycle of life and must be like birth in reverse. He insisted we put as much planning into his death as we put into our wedding and we did. He forbade me to dial 911. He didn’t want to go to the hospital or be in a body bag. He planned to be naked, wrapped in a white sheet in his cremation casket. He thought if he calmed himself and embraced the process of dying that it would be like falling asleep. He made me promise that after he died only people who loved him would handle his body. He didn’t want to be shipped around like lost luggage and kept in cold storage. He wanted to be kept at home from the time he died until he went to the crematory for his cremation. I promised I would honor his wishes.

What neither of us could have foreseen is that he would die on a Friday afternoon at the beginning of a three-day holiday weekend. In order to honor his wishes, I would need to keep his dead body in our home for five days. Having my husband’s corpse in the house made death feel normal. The spirituality of the initial dying ebbed, and he was just a man, cold as stone in a room with the windows open and the winter breeze blowing through. I learned that death is ordinary. As ordinary as birth. As easy as sleep. Just as he imagined.

Had you experienced any other deaths in your personal life before Chet died?
My husband and I had experienced the deaths of grandparents, as well as his father. Also, my grandparents and great-grandparents had operated a family funeral home business in the small town where they lived. As a kid I played hide-and-seek with my brothers in the casket showroom. My mother told us stories about styling the hair on corpses her father had embalmed. And my grandmother told us stories about playing tricks on her father, my great-grandfather, by moving the arms and legs of corpses he was embalming. Death was the family business, so it was natural for them to make jokes about it. Interestingly, most of them chose to be cremated.

Were people supportive of your grief or did they shy away from you when you were grieving?
People were very supportive of my grief. After Chet died, I invited friends to visit him at our house, we had a party for him, played music and read him poetry. For the people who experienced his dead body in the same place where they had enjoyed dinner with him, sat on the couch with him, watched movies with him, it was a revelation. We were busting taboos, completing the circle of life and embracing the inevitable. It felt radical to have a dead body in the house, and yet once we were all there together celebrating, it felt natural.

Is there anything you wish you'd done differently with this person?
There are many, many things I wish I had done differently with my husband before he died. But that is the story of my marriage, not his death. His death was a beautiful experience.

Was Chet buried or cremated? He was cremated.

Did you learn anything about the grieving process you'd like to share?
Grief is forever. I kept thinking I would get over it, outgrow it, cure myself of it, distract myself from it, forget it, move far enough away from the past to be out of reach of grief. But it’s always there inside me, seen or unseen. At first it was overwhelming, then it sat like a dark cloud over my life, now it drifts in and out of my experience, but it is always there, near or distant, silent or awakened, and I have accepted that it is part of me.

Were any songs played at the memorial service that were important to Chet?
On the day of Chet’s memorial service I had a dinner for 100 people at the farm and afterward we spread his ashes on the land while a bagpipe player stood on the hill above the barnyard and played Amazing Grace. Chet had always loved the mournful moan of bagpipes, and to hear it echoing around us as we took fistfuls of his ashes and sprinkled them about is one of my most treasured memories of the whole experience.

Billie with Chet. Photo by Jason Houston

Billie with Chet. Photo by Jason Houston

Thank you Billie Best for sharing your experience on the Monday Mourning blog. It is not easy to talk about death and grief, so I am grateful for your willingness to share your story. We don’t always know what to say when someone is talking about the death of someone they love. So, if you’re here and you don’t comment, please hit the “like” button so we at least know you read the post.

If you’re still here, I have an added bonus for Memorial Day. My book Death Becomes Us, is FREE on Kindle today 5/25/2020. While you’re there, pick up a copy of Billie’s book. I’ve read it and it’s really good!

The 2020 Quarantine Book Club will be interviewing Billie about her book on 7/9/20 at 5pm CST, so if you’ll like to join us, join the Facebook Club.

If you’d like to take part in a future Monday Mourning post and share your experience with my readers, reach out to me! I am also looking for women of a certain age to interview about perimenopause/menopause for my newest blog, The Pause.

Last, but certainly not least, help me save the USPS. I bought a TON of stamps and if you sign up for my newsletter, I will send you some swag (stickers, bookmarks and now buttons!) from my debut novel Forever 51.

Monday Mourning: The Sudden Death of a Spouse

Today I have Alyssa Rogers Williams on the blog. Long story short, we were roommates back in San Francisco in the early 90's. When we lived together, Stevie Ray Vaughn died. I wasn't familiar with his music at the time, but Alyssa was a fan. On the 25th anniversary of his death, which was a big deal here in Texas, I thought of her and looked her up on Facebook. Turns out we both live in the same city. How odd is that?

Alyssa has a double degree in Political Science/History from SFSU and Masters in Classics from Cal (University of California Berkeley.) After student teaching, she abandoned academia for the tech world and we moved to Austin, TX. Her husband became an IT expert and she designed web pages. They co-owned a Garage Rock Festival in NYC called.

CAVESTOMP: The Garage Rock Festacular

along with The Vipers leader and NYC talent booker Jon Weiss and eventually Little Steven Van Zandt.

DW: Who was the person who died?

AW:  My husband of 10 years, Christofer K. Gast.

DW: How old were you at the time?

AW: I was 33 years old.

DW: How old was he?

AW: Christofer was only 34 years of age.

DW: Was it a sudden death or did you know it was going to happen?

AW: It was an incredibly sudden death. He had a very severe headache, It was an aneurysm, which we found out later. We went to bed and our Labrador retriever woke me up, pawing at me. I looked at him and it was quite frankly horrific. It was clearly death. Eyes slightly open, mouth blue tinged, very white. I called 911 and did mouth to mouth and was initially hopeful with a rattle, but then realized it was just my CPR,Yet by his warmth it was clear he had just passed. EMS were there quickly and tried to resuscitate for at least 15-20 minutes but I knew. The dog knew. The most overriding feeling was numb disbelief as if in a bad dream.

DW: Were people supportive of your grief or did they shy away from you when you were grieving?

AW: The support was immense. We were living in Austin and within 15 minutes my best friend from childhood was there, my cousin who lived there and another cousin came from Houston to let me rest and handle the flow of  calls. It was immensely overwhelming and I think that support was so incredibly necessary. Our two best friends from SF and LA were there by the next day. However, some definitely felt awkward and some of his oldest friends from his hometown of San Diego were in such grief they were just paralyzed.

DW: Is there anything you wish you'd done differently with this person?

AW: There was nothing to do differently. Life was beautiful, he'd landed a dream job 10 minutes from home, brand new dream car and then poof! In the span of 6-7 hours all of that....gone. If I had known the headache was THAT bad I would have insisted he go to the ER, but he'd had a stressful day at work and a headache didn't seem that dire.

DW: Was he buried or cremated?

AW: Chris was buried, mostly because of his parents and my parents more  traditional feelings. This was difficult. I'd have preferred cremation, but his parents and sister wanted to "see" him one more time. That was when I broke down the most, open caskets seem a macabre mockery of life. If I'd truly honored wishes he'd have been burned on a Viking ship and  sent out to sea.

(I don't think that's allowed? ;)

. But I knew he wouldn't have really cared, he'd have wanted his parents happy. He was quite ambivalent about death and always felt he would die young.

DW: Did you learn anything about the grieving process that you'd like to share?

AW: Yes. I did learn that many of the clichés are true, One of which is that time passing helps immeasurably. But I also learned that everyone grieves so differently. I'm very private and can compartmentalize and outwardly people would comment on "how well" I was doing, unaware of nights spent in unspeakable grief. I was also very angry. I guess mostly at the Universe because his death seemed so premature at 34. He had so many friends, his life was good and we were happy. I had to do a lot of reading on death and grieving (

highly recommend

) to get  through subsequent days that felt so meaningless.

DW: Last but not least, were any songs played at the memorial that were important to the person?

AW: YES! As a musician, music lover and part owner of a large music fest, the songs chosen were deeply personal for him. No traditional hymns etc, We had personal eulogies and the focal piece a song from Arthur Lee/Love that represented the beauty and fragility of life and to the vibrant beat in which he had lived. The service was how he would have wanted it. People speaking from their hearts and the beautiful music overall saying goodbye to him.

Thank you for sharing on the blog, Alyssa!  I really appreciate it.  If you'd like to share, contact me at thedeathwriter @ gmail dot com

Monday Mournings: The Death of a Spouse

Donna lives and travels full-time in a 41' 5th wheel toy hauler pulled by a small Freightliner truck. A retired IT professional she also rides her own Harley-Davidson motorcycle. Her most recent passion is writing. You can find her at http://2takinga5th.com as well as http://donnamcnicol.com

DW: Who was the person that died?DM: It was my husband of 19 years.
DW: How old were you at the time? DM: I had just turned 58.
DW: How old was your husband? DM: He had just turned 62.
DW: Was it a sudden death or did you know it was going to happen? DM: He had been diagnosed with head/neck cancer in 2001. He stayed in remission just over two years so when it came back, he was terminal. He had almost another year. I'm not sure if knowing it's going to happen is an advantage or not other than being more financially prepared.
DW: Did you and your husband talk about death? DM: Not to a great extent. I think he always thought he would beat it. I tend to be more of a realist and knew the odds. I tried my best to prepare myself.
DW: Had you experienced any other deaths in your personal life before this person died? DM: I had lost all four grandparents, a couple of uncles and both parents. Some were unexpected and at a younger age, the others more late in life deaths.
DW: Were people supportive of your grief or did they shy away when you were grieving? DM: People were extremely supportive of me. If anyone shied away, it was me. We had moved from Florida to a small town in Tennessee less than two months before he died. He wanted to see me settled in a comfortable spot. That was the good part. The bad part was I knew one neighbor (barely) and my realtor. Oh, and the Harley-Davidson dealer in the neighboring town where I had bought my new bike the month before. I slowly got to know people by forcing myself out of the house even if it was to sit at McDonald's to drink coffee and read for a couple of hours.
DW: Is there anything you wish you'd done differently? DM: I wish he hadn't worked right up until the end but I also know that working helped him through his days.
DW: Was he buried or cremated? DM: He was cremated and most of his ashes where spread in the mountains of Tennessee. In addition, we bought small glass bottles and the funeral home put some of his ashes in each. Each of our kids (we were a blended family) and some close friends and other family, got the bottle with the Dr. Seuss/Theodor Geisel saying, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." on it. They then chose to celebrate his life in their own way. His ashes were spread at Daytona Bike Week, Pikes Peak in Colorado, down by the river he played at as a child in Rochester NY and other favored spots. I also carry a small vial on my key ring with some of his ashes so he is always with me. My bottle of his ashes will be mixed in with mine when I pass.
DW: Did you learn anything about the grieving process that you'd like to share? DM: The biggest thing that surprised me was the ebb and flow. For the first two years it's a roller coaster. You'll be doing fine and a song or a phrase or a TV show/movie will bring back a memory. I learned to let myself wallow for a bit, then head back out and face the world as best as I could.
DW: Were any songs played at the memorial that were important to your husband? DM: He had no memorial service, thus the bottles of ashes, but some good songs would be: "Shameless" Garth Brooks (his favorite and it still makes me cry) "Live Like You Were Dying" Tim McGraw (I could listen to either of these the first year) "Colour My World" Chicago (sort of our song - see http://www.write4ten.com/2012/06/prompt-song-memory.html)