Link

 I was asked to share the Go Fund Me link here:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-for-karl-kellens-legacy-and-family?attribution_id=sl:23a6a1da-acd8-410a-a5eb-794adda54ad9&lang=en_US&ts=1785942471&utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_content=amp30-treatment-4&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=facebook&fbclid=IwRlRTSATgX9pwZG9mBWZkaWQWUL7pnY_M4hBDPNbPtqyfS1B7SrpX3mV4dG4DYWVtAjExAHNydGMGYXBwX2lkCjY2Mjg1NjgzNzkAAR6kKaqtWpUPOMiJitdH4QIi29RnyN_o0S9oGtiZY1mwHzZI6KDnAL9-wM0bvQ_aem_UYfcv-Qirlfc6xM6_ON8SA

Never thought I’d have to do this again

On Saturday, August 1st my world shattered for the second time.  In Texas for the weekend, picking Aria up from a week stay with her Titi and Uncle (Brandon’s brother and wife) I found myself anxious because I could not get ahold of Karl.  Life 360 showed him at home, despite him being excited to be going to Stranahan’s for a whiskey tour and tasting late afternoon.  I assumed Life 360 was not accurate, because it often wasn’t.  I’d get notified mid day that “Karl left home”, 6 hours after he actually left.  

When messages were unread a couple hours later I started getting worried.  Repeatedly checking Life 360 and calling, texting and FaceTimeing I tried to calm my anxiety by telling myself he probably fell asleep relaxing at home after the tasting.  I checked the Ring camera and could see his truck in the driveway,  but could only view the live stream because, of course, something needed to be reconnected to see the history.  Checking Life 360 again I note that his battery percentage was reducing, so it was accurate and I knew something was wrong.  

Feeling a little awkward, I reached out to my neighbor who is a good friend - and asked if she could pop up to check on him.  Responding a couple minutes later she let me know her husband was on the way.

I watched from the camera as he rang the doorbell, waited, then checked the handle and walked in - the door unlocked.  I start praying, begging God for everything to be ok.  Moments later I watch in horror as he runs out on the phone looking at the house - for the house number.  Shortly after his wife rushes in.

Frantically I start calling him and his wife, intermittently checking back on the ring camera. Then I see it - ambulance lights and EMT’s rushing to the door. My heart dropped, feeling so helpless, and so surreal.  

A few minutes later he calls, having to deliver the devastating news that he found Karl unresponsive and he is on the way to the ER.  

Earlier I had checked with Reyna to see if she had heard from him at all, which she had not.  Now I’m making the call no (bonus)mom wants to make, and she is immediately on her way from Fort Collins.

A blur of phone calls and hours later they determined that Karl had a spontaneous brain bleed in a “really bad spot”, where the brain connects to the brain stem.  They were pretty shocked to discover that he had no known high blood pressure issues, the most common contributor to a bleed of this extent.  The only intervention we could do had little chance for improving anything regarding recovery, the damage was done.  We could attempt to prolong life, but it would be no quality of life. Reyna and I agreed that is no life he would want to live.

At this point David had already rescheduled us for the next flight out, with Mary insisting on coming with us.  By early morning I am at the hospital with Reyna and Aria is back home with Mary, and Reyna and I begin the process with Donor Alliance for organ donation since Karl signed up as a donor. 

As of Tuesday afternoon, all of Karl’s major organs have a recipient match.  At 10pm tonight, Wednesday August 5th Karl will be disconnected from the support and allowed to pass in his own timing with Reyna and I by his side.  

It’s all just so surreal.  Utterly unbelievable and devastating.  Total bullshit.  It feels so unfair for Reyna to loose her father - her rock she could always count on to selflessly be there for her without fail.  It’s unfair to be widowed TWICE  at only 43.  And it’s unfair that such a kind, silly and honorable man’s life is cut short in a time of some beautiful personal and spiritual growth. 

Why God?! Why?!?! 

I’m not good at memorizing scripture, so I’m sinking into lyrics from worship songs to remind me that God is good.  This is not good, but God is.  He will embrace me as I yell at Him and question Him.  

In this moment I write from a place of numbness and shock.     Sadly, I know what is to come, so I’ll allow the brief respite from gut punching realizations and heart wrenching pain.

We have been surrounded by support. I have not had to think of anything but being present here.  Aria is being loved on by many, taken to and from dance and out shopping for a distraction. All my friends see Reyna as my daughter and are caring for her as much as me.  

It’s a shitty deja vu for many of us.  My parents, Haley, Mary, David, Jess and Steve and so many others near and far - all falling back into their roles as they supported me through the loss of Brandon just under 12 years ago. 

As we navigate this unimaginable loss, please pray for peace beyond understanding, strength, endurance, and steadfast faith. 

I will continue to update on here as we navigate this awful reality. 

The Quiet - 8 years later

 I sit in the dark in the tree swing in our back yard. A place I seem to find every time I need to be quiet with you and think, connect and reflect. A place that feels so familiar to me. And yet- it’s a place in our back yard you never knew. I remember wanting a swing after you passed so I could sit outside and rock with Aria. In survival mode and not thinking clearly I googled and found a post about wrapping a tow rope around the branch like 10 times ( so it wouldn’t hurt the tree like tree swing things do apparently). I bought the swing and the tow rope on Amazon, and one day when all our guy friends were here to help with yard work and other honey-do’s, they chuckled quietly and hung my swing from the damn tree with a tow rope. It’s crazy to me how many moments I’ve had in my life in this tree swing. But none of them were with you. Yet they were about you. 

I can’t help but sing in my head Evanescence My Immortal. 

Your presence still lingers here, and it won’t leave me alone. These wounds won’t seem to heal, this pain is just too real, there’s just so much that time can not erase….

I don’t live in this pain every day anymore- thank goodness. But as I’ve said repeatedly, when I sit in it - it is no different than the first night.

We had an evening just like this. A beautiful fall evening, comfortable to be outside on the back deck that we helped build. We gathered, smiled, laughed. We held each other up just by being together but we were falling apart. We all dreaded when the time came to go to bed and be alone with our thoughts.  Our reality. Our life without you. 

So much of that first year - or two… was and still is such a blur. Honestly the past 8 years have been a blur. And I don’t know if that’s just how it is once you become a parent?  I don’t know because I never got to experience just the  drastic life change of becoming a parent. I was also loosing you, and then grieving the loss of you and figuring out how to be an only parent. And from then on I just haven’t stopped going, going, going. I don’t know where I’m going, I just seem to need to do all the things because I just want to live and experience. Because what I value so much as I think back on our 10 years together is all the experiences we had. Those are the memories that flood back. And I am so grateful we did the things we did and we did life with the people we did. 

And so I continue to look for the experiences, make the connections, do the things - because life is short. And maybe because I am still running from the quiet. And have some serious FOMO…so thanks for that. (Chuckle)

And so I come here, every Father’s Day, every August 22nd, every September 23rd (and if our anniversary wasn’t March 25th which is usually a blizzard) to be here in the quiet with my thoughts of you. And it  brings me memories both good and bad, awareness of broken dreams, the return of heartache and tears. And yet here I am - surrounding myself in quiet to be with my thoughts of you. Because even every moment that brings me pain is bittersweet because it is still about you. 

Side note: I wrote this just as a journal entry - the conscious stream of thought type. Just blah blah blah - get it out. And as I reread it, it felt right to just share it - in its rawness

7 years out

 

7 years.

I sit here looking at that, just letting it sink in. Tears form in my eyes and my lungs tighten.  How? How could 7 years have passed? 

I’m trying to reflect and identify what is it that I’m feeling. What is the same and what is different from 2,555 days ago as I have progressed and lived with grief and loss. 

As I’ve always said, my love for Brandon and the pain of the loss of Brandon are the same.  But it feels that everything else is different. 

Some things I’m glad are different. Like the presence of grief is very much incorporated into my life in what I think is a healthy balance. It’s been a while since it has consumed me or has been what felt like my primary identity; widowed. 

I am different, in some ways I’m proud of and others I’m not. 

Aria is different, she is a 7 year old developing her sense of self and individuality.

Life is just different. As good as that can be, it’s also such a challenge when part of your heart lives in the past. 

My memories are different. Foggier.  And I have to search my mind for some details. 

I think this specifically is what anyone who has lost someone is so scared of.  And this may be more unique to me; that I often have to search my mind to recall things that were so familiar once - you think you’d never forget.  

The other day as I was looking at a menu it randomly crossed my mind that I wasn’t sure what soda Brandon would have ordered.  Sprite? Ginger ale? Coke? Why can’t I remember this? What else have I forgotten? What else will I forget?  

I know I will never forget the important things, like how selfless he was. Or how he could empathize with others and have the perfect words of wisdom to give guidance. And I take so much comfort in that. 

But this is a journey that will be a part of the rest of my life and it evolves, just as I evolve. I know I can not move forward in my life by holding on to everything in my past. It just does not work that way. But knowing that truth still doesn’t make these realizations along the way hurt any less. It just helps me know I have to allow space for these feelings so I can hold them, and have them, and then make peace with them.

So here I am, journaling/writing - my way of identifying and coping with these feelings that come with grief.

But don’t get me wrong - I do not live in this space. I carve out time on days like these to revisit this part of myself. Remember. Feel. Honor. Embrace. This allows me to then set it aside for a while, and focus on continuing to live the life I have which is beautiful.

Brandon’s 39th Birthday

Today is Brandon’s birthday. He would have been 39 this year. 

It’s crazy how at certain times the tears just fall. I can live life, think of him (every day), and keep on keeping on. 

Then days like today the tears just fall.  And as they do I realize that it still hurts the same as it did every year prior.  I do not miss him any less. I don’t think I ever will.  

It’s just crazy to me that now it’s a somewhat comforting thing. 

I think we are so afraid that we are going to forget or that they will be forgotten. And as time goes on the time between tears gradually gets longer and longer. The routines of day to day life become the focus. The days are long but the years are short. And suddenly it’s been almost 6 years since I held his hand. It feels so far away. Like another life all together. I have to remind myself of the life I had before that looks so different from the life I have now. And I get scared that I’m going to leave him behind because each year it seems details become a little less vivid.

Of course I know that I will never forget him, and I also know that it wouldn’t be healthy to try to carry all of him with me.  But there are times I have to search my mind to remember something - like what size and brand of jeans he wore, and that hurts. 

The reality is that time takes things from us. And it wouldn’t be a healthy life if I spent all my energy trying to carry the past with me, and missing out on what the present needs from me. And yet, even when we can rationalize these thoughts - It. Doesn’t. Make. Them. Hurt. Less. 

But it does give the feelings space to be what they are. I work hard not to dismiss them, and just let them be felt. And it never ceases to surprise me how quickly and intensely the tears come when I sit in reflection on days like today. 

I’m in a place in life where I can embrace these moments, not run from them. It brings me a strange comfort to see how my soul remembers so perfectly. Because love does not die. And though I can live my life without Brandon, my life will never be without him.