Well, we made it through Father’s Day last weekend. I suggested a camping trip to get us out of the house. So, we celebrated Haley’s birthday — yep, on Saturday — with a brownie cake (easy to transport!), in Cook Forest. Our Pitbull spent a good bit of Saturday absolutely convinced that we were going to bolt out of the woods without her, leaving her stranded (surrounded by scary things) with only the tent and the puppies. She finally relaxed about 4AM Sunday, when she dragged me out of the tent to protect her while she answered nature’s call (she is the biggest chicken you’ll ever meet, though she talks (barks?) a good game). I didn’t really mind standing under a star-filled sky, waiting for her to finish.

Father’s Day is one of many milestones we’ve “achieved” since Ken left us (three months ago today). We’ve had sunrises and sunsets, breakfasts and dinners, birthdays and holidays. We only rarely go out to eat anymore but we still have trouble remembering we’re 4 instead of 5. I’ve started slowly to go through Ken’s things. We donated some food that he liked to a food drive at school. I have a big pile of contact lenses to donate (somewhere?) before they expire.  The kimchi — Ken liked that he could taste it even after all that chemo — is still in the back of the frig. I know that leaving it there is stupid but I can’t throw it out (and I’m crying as I contemplate the day that I’ll have to).

The thank you notes from the memorial are mostly finished.  However, there’s one, very important, mass “thank you” left and that’s what this particular blog is for.  Very shortly after Ken died, his colleagues created a “GoFundMe” in his honor and sent me an email, asking me to accept it. Honestly, I was shocked and disconcerted by the offer. How could I accept money from his colleagues and friends, many of them strangers to me?! What would Ken want me to do?

Well, in addition to an extra-ordinary and unusual sense of humor, Ken had an abiding loyalty to and love for his friends. After some thought and several rhetorical questions posed to him, I realized that he would have wanted me to honor his friendships and so I accepted the GoFundMe request. Dozens of people, most of them — in fact — strangers to me, have contributed and left messages about Ken’s impact on their lives. Sometimes those messages make me laugh. Mostly, though, they make me cry. I wish — how I wish —  he could see what an impact he had.

Practically speaking, even with really good health insurance, in January I had medical bills totaling more than $12,000 and that number continued to increase throughout the spring.  There was a time — God, forgive me — when I didn’t understand how people who had “good” health insurance could go into debt paying for medical care. Now, I’m so angry about the struggles we faced with our “good” coverage (wondering back in February, for example, where I was going to get the $6,000 to pay upfront for his chemo drugs).

ANYWAY, to each of you who contributed to the GoFundMe — I wanted to write personal notes to each of you but since I couldn’t, I hope you will accept my thanks here and that you know how deeply grateful our children and I are for the gifts that you have given us.

You know how much I value words. So, I’ll leave you with this very well-written lyric by Ed Sheeran: “A heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved.” I guess that’s my silver lining for today.

Much love.