Counting Months

My mind can’t wrap around the fact that it has already and only been a month since we found Karl unresponsive.  That felt like the never ending August.   Like I’m standing still as the world spins around me. 

One month.  There’s this disbelief that I am once again counting months.  Like a baby, we tend to quantify the duration of our loss in days, then weeks and ultimately months at first.  Past the first year it becomes “1 year 4 months”.  Somewhere around the 2nd or 3rd year we often progress to half year increments of “about 3 and a half years”, and eventually most of us release the hold on the specific amount of time and get to a looser statement like “a little less than12 years”.

That’s where I am at with Brandon.  As I’ve always said, literally not a day goes by that I do not think of him, but my focus is now more on his memory as opposed to my pain and loss.  

And now here I am again.  Counting months.

It took years for my identity to no longer feel defined by widowhood.  Feeling like the sum of my existence wasn’t merely my brokenness, baggage and grief.

And now here I am again.  Twice widowed.  

Unfortunately we just found out this week that we have other months to count now too.

4 or 5 months until Reyna gets deployed.  Then 11 months until she’s back.  

I don’t understand this timing.  I want Reyna here to grieve with us, not alone.  I don’t want her to have to stuff this into a box in order to perform her duties overseas.  I want her to have time and space to have a healthy relationship with grief and God.

But here we are.  Just feels like another blow while we are already on the ground.

I believe God has a plan.  But that doesn’t necessarily make it easier.  Honestly, I think often it makes it harder.  We have to surrender our expectations and be open and obedient to what God is doing, knowing this side of heaven we will never see the big picture, the purpose or the answer to why.   

I've seen ways God prepared us.  A conviction on my heart to reconnect with my faith 9 months ago.  Karl's heart and mind being open and eager to discover who Jesus is and accept Him as his Savior shortly before his death.  Aria getting plugged into a youth group that she (and her friends) just love.  The steps we were taking financially that has made his estate much easier than it would have been.  

I've seen His mercies too.  As awful as it was to be out of state and Karl alone when this happened, there is some relief that we did not have to experience the trauma of witnessing it.  I hate that that trauma was deferred to my neighbors instead.  They have repeatedly assured me that they too were glad it was them and not me, but I imagine that experience will be with them for the rest of their lives.  I'm grateful that Karl wasn't driving in the moment this happened, others could have been injured or killed.  Or if he had gone to Texas with me, what if it happened on a flight?  Or in Texas, where friends could not easily come say goodbye and rally around us.  And mercy on Karl that it was likely very instantaneous.  

I am trying to focus on the blessings too.  God has surrounded us with an amazing community of family, friends, colleagues, neighbors and complete strangers who are lifting us up with physical, emotional, spiritual and financial support.  We have good (enough) health, lol, a home, and our faith.

We all have therapists.  Aria is seeing a young woman referred to us by our couples therapist.  I expected that sometime in the next few years I would get her in therapy to work through things that may come up for her about the loss of her dad, and never getting a chance to know him.  Now, it felt necessary to get her connected to process this loss as well as what it may bring up about Brandon's death too.  She is struggling with some regret and fear, but overall is doing ok.  

We got Karl's ashes home.  Reyna and I both chose a black vase style urn with a wood divider for inscription.  Reyna's reads, "I love you - Dad".  I couldn't decide what I wanted so I left it blank for now.  I considered the usual "In loving memory" type engravings or a scripture reference.  I also considered something silly for Karl like "Shut the door", or a song title or lyric.

If you have any suggestions, drop them below.  I think it's 30-35 character limit.

Please continue to pray for the strength we need, for us to feel God's presence, and for God to give me direction as I have a lot of life changes to figure out.

Shut the Door

I’m finally getting around to sharing these moments.  They feel like they were months ago, and yet it was only 3 weeks ago.

A friend got Reyna a casting kit while we were at the hospital, and she chose to do a cast of her dad’s hand.  It came out so beautiful my friends quickly got me one too.  It was not the easiest thing to accomplish but we laughed and gave Karl shit for once again quietly going along with some silly thing we made him do.   And I am so glad we did.  

 

We held hands in a strange way for whatever reason.  I think it was just more comfortable.  The Thursday before I flew out to Texas to get Aria Karl had asked me on a date.   Almost 11 years together meant we got into a routine of spending individual time together, but I usually made the plans - so him specifically asking was special.  After dinner we walked around outside a bit, holding hands for the first time in a while.  We had actually chuckled about how we held hands - noting that it was a two step process.  A clasp and then an adjustment placing my pinky between his pointer and middle fingers.  I always had to be on his right and his arm in front of mine.  Otherwise it didn’t feel right. 

It is now such a special moment I will treasure forever, and I have a beautiful casting of our hands together,  to remember our last date together.

 

That night, August 5th,  held some beauty in the pain.  As an organ donor there is an opportunity to do the hero walk.  I’ve also heard it called the honor walk.  A chance to honor the priceless gift of life the donor is giving.  

This typically occurs when the donor is being transported to the operating room.  An announcement is made and all available staff line the hallways to pay respect as the patient - with family and friends following behind - takes that last journey.   In this scenario a very limited number of people , typically 2, can be present with their loved one in the OR as they are taken off life support and pass away.  Since it’s in an operating room and a sterile environment, it requires scrubbing in, full body protection, gloves, hair and face coverings.  

Karl’s status at the time allowed us to have the option of doing this in his room instead, which sounded much more comfortable to me.  Reyna did not have a preference, so that’s how we proceeded.  

In addition to the hero walk it is also an option for a few loved ones to share something about the donor on a card that is then read to all the doctors and nurses who are assisting in the donation so they know a little bit about the person before the operation starts.  It’s a really beautiful opportunity to acknowledge the heart and the soul of the person before them. 

Since we chose to move forward in-room, it did not make sense to do the hero walk.  It’s a lot of disconnecting devices for battery transport and medical equipment to wheel through the halls only to go back in and do it again shortly after.  Instead we did a gathering in and outside his room.  

 

After everyone who was there had an opportunity to have a private moment with Karl, we gathered together - filling the room and hall outside the room.

Anyone who wanted to share something got the chance to do so.   And then the memory cards were read.   Reyna and Janet, one of Karl’s sisters - on behalf of the family, wrote something to share.  There were tears and there was laughter. 

David provided one last “Shut the door” (IYKYK) as he left the room.

Below is what I shared.   Karl once more got to hear me ramble on, likely noting I filled the front and back of the page.  

[Items in brackets were in my original writing, but removed once I realized I was running out of space].  

Karl appreciated a simple, quiet life, always seeking to stay in the background providing support.  Despite this, his goofy personality shone bright and was loved by all.

When gathered he preferred to be playing with the kids and helping to get things done over socializing.  His incredible work ethic was recognized everywhere he went and was so proud to have instilled it in his daughter Reyna.

He put up with me.  His patience and ability to forgive and forget showed his genuine heart.  He selflessly worked hard to grow individually and together to enrich our relationship.  I have always been thankful to have such a trustworthy and honorable man love me.

As a man of few words he showed his love in acts of service and quality time.  Helping Reyna with her truck, finding silly things to watch with Aria, and taking over the cooking duties for me.

Most admirable though by far, was his recent openness at allowing God into his heart.  He showed me a beautiful vulnerability I had never seen before and a desire to seek His word and connect deeply.

[His silly antics, dad jokes, love of whiskey and old fashioned’s, handyman skills, contentment, “shut the door”s, loud sneezes,  and everything that made Karl “Karl” will be so deeply and intensely missed. ]

There are no words that truly encompass the wonderful human he is.  And his last gift of life for others in his death shows that.  Thank you, Karl for all you did and all of who you are.

Reyna, myself, Janet, Julie and Tom - (a few of Karl’s fourteen siblings - yes, you read that right) sat by his side, listening to worship music  awaiting the time when they would disconnect him from the ventilator.  Around 10:20 pm they did.   At 11:06pm he was welcomed into Heaven.  

There are no adequate words for this experience.  It just sucks.  My only solace is knowing that in the 8 months before he died, he came to know and accept Jesus as his Savior.  God opened his heart and his mind, and Karl allowed Him in.  

The pain, hurt, anger and regrets stay here - with us.   He is free. From all of it. 

I believe he has a knowledge or a glimpse of those he left behind.  He sees or knows our souls as they were intended to be, free from sin and our most loving, true and authentic self.  And he patiently, yet eagerly, awaits our reunion in Heaven. 

"Sad-min"

It still feels surreal.  It's been 13 days since...well - I'm not sure what to call it.  The bleed?  The incident?  The moment life just turned upside down?  

8 days since his last breath.

It's been tough.  I'm still in the functional part of being in shock and taking advantage of the help I have navigating all the "sad-min" (the death related paperwork and tasks).  Reyna has been by my side though all of it, helping to make decisions and taking some things off my plate.  My parents have been with me for the estate attorney appointments and funeral home arrangements. 

I've repeatedly had the gut punch in this sad-min process of finding my self having to clarify, "My late husband...I mean, my (first or second) late husband..." followed by the dizzying and momentarily paralyzing reality that I am actually saying that.  

Aria has been busy back at dance and continually snatched up for time with friends while we are getting things done.  Mary, my sister-in-law, (Brandon's brother's wife) has been nurturing Aria and Reyna with the auntie love they need right now.  My mom cooking, cleaning and organizing and dad keeping busy with some honey-do list items Karl hadn't gotten around to.  And if rage-cleaning is a thing, so is grief-cleaning.  Needing to make some more room for additional air mattresses got the majority of a basement organization and haul done in a day.  

I'm grateful that earlier this year Karl and I started working with a financial advisor and all of Karl's individual expenses are documented in a shared program, making it a lot easier to deal with his estate.  

The most shocking sad-min gut punch was discovering he did not have Life Insurance through his current employer, which I did not know.  I knew he had with every other previous employer and had assumed such.  Since there had always been some sort of coverage I hadn't pushed too much for him to have an individual policy.  I know he was planning to get it set up as part of our financial plan we were working on - but unfortunately not soon enough.

I'm unsure what life looks like going forward from here.  For now it's one day at a time.  Again.

Reyna has chosen to move back home for a little while.  Aria will love having her here, and I'm glad that we can support each other through this loss of ours.  I'm especially thankful that she won't be living alone during these first few months that are so difficult...and selfishly happy that it won't be so quiet around here as we gear up for back to school next week and the fall dance schedule.

That is when guests all head back home and it's going to start feeling real.  The quiet will become loud with memories, regrets and broken dreams.  I'll never feel ready to face it, but I must, so I will.  A fitting line printed on the "spredges" or sprayed edges of a fantasy book Reyna or Mary is reading.

I am doing all I can to just sink into my faith.  I believe God will provide.  I don't know what He will provide or when but I am doing all I can to just be open to what that looks like.  At the moment it's strength, family and community support, financial assistance and rest.  

In the meantime I'd be grateful for your prayers over these areas - and forgive me for being somewhat vague.  God knows.

-For kindness, empathy, and an atypical response regarding an account issue

-For an ongoing situation to be resolved with no further action on my part

-For direction 

Update 8/10/26

At 11:06pm, Wednesday August 5th Karl was welcomed into Heaven, with his family by his side.  

Reyna, Aria and I have been surrounded by so much love and support from near and far.  My “worker bees”, as they’ve been lovingly labeled, have been buzzing around behind the scenes making this transition as seamless as possible for us.  Arranging meals, transportation for Aria to and from dance, covering August dance tuition so I didn’t even have to think about it, and so, so much more.  To say I am grateful is an understatement.  I think I’ll call them C’s Bees. :) 

Reyna and I have decided together that a funeral was not Karl’s style.  He’d hate something formal with him as the center of attention. Instead we will be planning an intimate gathering of some sort around his birthday mid-November.  We ran the idea past Karl’s family that flew out, and they felt that aligned with him as well.

As we’ve been navigating this, I’m not sure how much is the “peace beyond understanding” I’ve been praying for, and how much is just shock. I’m kind of just floating through the days detached and numb. I have moments of worrying about the numbness and start internally spiraling.  Then I find myself reassuring myself that this is normal - a defense mechanism.  My brain is protecting me as I process this.  Because I’ve lived it before that self talk seems to hit different. 

Your mind does strange things in times like these.  Literally, one of the first thoughts I had as I wrapped my mind around the reality of what was happening was “Well, now what side of the bed will I sleep on?”.  

When I had to come home without Brandon I could not bear the thought of seeing his side of the bed empty, so I took his side.  Now what do I do? Same house, same bedroom, same problem.  Now both sides represent loss - just 12 years apart.

As I find myself just “keepin’ on”, I feel a little out of body.  Able to acknowledge that I know I am in shock right now. Awareness that I need to take advantage of this numbness to get shit done before the shock wears off and grief overtakes. It’s strange to be analyzing my own experience in this way.  

At the moment I’m in a “Ok, God - wtf?” kind of mindset.  I want to trust in the plan, and I know God will provide.  But I’ll be honest with you and say I’m struggling to understand what that could even look like at this point?  I feel defeated.

I know I’ll find hope, just not right now. 

This song….

https://open.spotify.com/track/2eP2EBzjAoy34dnEB9CtF8?si=s30B71nZQEGCSFQl91KkNg&utm_source=copy-link

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