Widow's Might E-Book

Kim Knight

• Herausgeber: BroadStreet Publishing Group, LLC
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Seitenzahl: 181

Beschreibung

What happens when your husband dies unexpectedly in the prime of your life and marriage?   In Widow's Might, Kim Knight shares her experience when her husband suddenly and unexpectedly died at fifty-six years old. In one day, Kim went from planning her future with her best friend to planning a funeral, searching for passwords to online accounts, trying to return to normal when things were no longer normal, and finding God in the middle of trauma and grief.   Widow's Might is for young or middle-aged widows and those who love them. The book helps those who've experienced a tragic loss to better understand the confusing and unpredictable path of grief as well as the challenges and promise of new growth.   Learning to embrace a life different from the one you imagined isn't something you're going to master by the end of year one, when your family and friends think you should, or when you hope you might. You can deeply embrace and honor your marriage to your late spouse and still find contentment, happiness, and maybe even love in the days ahead.   Widow's Might will give you the strength and wisdom to discover new life on the other side of death. Look toward what God has in store for you. And—every once in a while—spend the day in your pajamas and eat popcorn for dinner. It's okay.  

Leseprobe

Endorsements

This book isn’t only for widows. It’s also for those who love them. Widow’s Might invites those of us on the sidelines of a tragic loss—who are uncertain of how to help—to better understand the confusing, unpredictable road of grief as well as the challenges and promise of new growth. Kim Knight’s words will break your heart, make you think, and help you stand steadfastly beside those facing the death of a spouse. Buy a copy for yourself and one for anyone you know who’s lost the love of their life.

—Vicki Kuyper, author of A Tale of Two Biddies and Wonderlust

I spent thirty-five years on Wall Street and during that time I never met a person quite like Dale, who had the perfect balance between business life and family life. Much of that balance was because of his truly special relationship with his wife, Kim. After Dale died, I sent Kim a note which read, I can count on one hand—no, make that one finger—the number of wholesalers’ wives who were a bigger part of their spouse’s business than you were with Dale. Widow’s Might is the story of how one widow moved forward to embrace life’s challenges, to find joy in devastating circumstances, and to encourage others sharing the journey to get back in the game.

—Dr. Bob Froehlich, former vice chairman of Deutsche Asset Management

I can’t think of anyone better to write a book on how to navigate such a complex topic that none of us is particularly well equipped to handle. Nevertheless, in Widow’s Might Kim shares the unexpected journey she had to navigate as a reflection of the kind of person she is—and we can all aspire to be. She shows the very human struggles associated with losing your partner, your friend, and your love. She asks the difficult questions that any person would have but may not readily admit. Yet, she also follows those questions with a determination to use this very painful chapter in her life as another means to show how her faith in Christ enables her to be a beacon for those around her.

—Doug Davis, senior vice president, industry-leading Fortune 100 company

As a seasoned financial advisor, I’ve been blessed with the privilege of assisting a number of clients as they’ve traveled the uncharted and difficult journey which Kim so transparently and openly shares in her amazing book. Kim answers the two basic questions that I’ve been asked repeatedly through the years: 1) “Is this how I am supposed to feel?” and 2) “What did your other clients do when this happened to them?” Every person takes a little different route as they navigate the emotional, physical, psychological, spiritual, and financial challenges that come all bundled up in the overwhelming event of losing a husband/friend/spiritual partner. Kim shares in a powerful and effective way how she has grieved, cried, grown, and even learned to celebrate life again on this road that no one ever wants to travel. Widow’s Might is an incredible guide for anyone who has lost their spouse, and it’s also an excellent resource for those of us who are the friends, family members, and professional advisors to those who have experienced this type of life-changing loss.

—Lance D. Marble, president, Wealth Professionals, LLC

As a pastor I am always looking for practical resources for ministry opportunities. I was hoping that this might be one, but I was worried that it would be more of a processing tool for Kim to work through her grave loss. So, I was very pleased to see that this is not only a riveting account of her journey through this sudden loss but also an extremely relevant and practical book. The way Kim describes her journey and the way she connects it to practical “takeaways” and lessons is spectacular. Widow’s Might will be a for-sure resource as a pastor, and I will recommend it for all those who are forced to grieve the loss of a dear spouse. Thank you, Kim!

—Kevin Wood, lead pastor, First Baptist Church of Ukiah, CA

I was honored to be in the room with the family when they said their final good-byes to their father, brother, and loving husband. Throughout the shocking and heartbreaking process, it was remarkable how emotionally aware and spiritually strong Kim was. It came as no surprise to me that she felt nudged to write about her experience. Widow’s Might offers honest and thoughtful guidance to others who have experienced loss.

—Allan Fuller, senior pastor, Mountain Park Community Church, AZ

In my thirty-four years as a wealth manager, I’ve helped many women who have survived the loss of a spouse or partner. Together we work through the turmoil to make the best financial decisions at one of the most difficult times of their lives. Grief, fear, and uncertainty make choices incredibly challenging. Yet finances are only one aspect of their lives that have completely changed, and Kim’s book is a terrific resource. Her words are filled with the warmth of a comforting friend and can help anyone navigate the new and disorienting circumstances of widowhood. I highly recommend Widow’s Might to anyone who has lost a spouse.

—Deborah L. Danielson, CFP®, CFS®, MSFS, president and owner of Danielson Financial Group; investment professional since 1981 with a master of science in financial services; CERTIFIED FINANCIAL PLANNER™ and Certified Fund Specialist

BroadStreet Publishing Group, LLC

Racine, Wisconsin, USA

BroadStreetPublishing.com

Widow’s Might: Embracing Life after the Loss of Your Spouse

Copyright © 2016 by Karen Kim Knight

ISBN-13: 978-1-4245-5111-8 (softcover)

ISBN-13: 978-1-4245-5112-5 (e-book)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Unless marked otherwise, Scripture quotations are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. Scripture quotations marked MSG are from THE MESSAGE. Copyright © by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Stock or custom editions of BroadStreet Publishing titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, ministry, fundraising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

Cover design by Chris Garborg, garborgdesign.com

Interior design and typeset by Katherine Lloyd, TheDESKonline.com

Printed in the United States of America

16 17 18 19 20 5 4 3 2 1

Dedicated with admiration to those who

have traveled this road and prevailed,

With gratitude to the friends who journeyed with us,

And with love to my mother, Jo Koeneman,

who held my hand along the way.

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Contents

1.Life Changes in an Instant

2.What’s the Password?

3.Life Changes … Over Time

4.When the Casserole Days Are Over

5.What’s in His Pockets?

6.Where Was God When I Needed Him?

7.Is My Spouse in Heaven?

8.Who Am I Now?

9.Does Life Continue in Your Husband’s Home?

10.Dating after Twenty-Five Years of Marriage … or Fifty

11.Oh My Goodness! I Met Someone New

12.Dealing with the Guilt of Surviving…and Being Happy Again

13.What Do I Want to Be When I Grow Up?

14.Life Is Short—Get Back in the Game

Notes

Acknowledgments

About the Author

1

Life Changes inan Instant

The phone call came at 9:30 a.m. on Monday, March 4, 2013.

“Mrs. Knight. This is Justin from Chase Bank. Mr. Knight is here and he’s had some kind of … seizure. And the paramedic wants to talk to you.”

Seizure? What kind of seizure? Dale had left the house fifteen minutes earlier to open a checking account for the franchise we’d just purchased on Friday. He was dressed in his usual navy blazer and slacks, and I’d asked where he was going.

“To the bank to open a corporate checking account.”

“What name are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking Dale Knight Enterprises.”

“What about Kim Knight Enterprises?”

We’d laughed and away he went. Now I was telling a paramedic what kind of medication he took and that, yes, he did have high blood pressure.

When I asked where they were taking Dale, the paramedic named a nearby hospital.

“Oh, couldn’t you please take him to Banner Desert?” It was the hospital my neighbor had told me was the best when I first moved to town.

The short answer was, “No. We go to the nearest hospital.”

I’d been working on my taxes at the kitchen table and was still in my pajamas. I ran to get dressed, jumped in my car, and sped to the hospital. My mind was racing. What kind of seizure? Is he conscious? How do I get to the hospital? Where do I park?

The receptionist in the emergency room sent me to a small cubicle. Dale was in a hospital gown, and the ER doc was examining him. It appeared Dale had suffered a stroke—his speech was impaired, he couldn’t move his left side—all the “traditional” stroke symptoms.

Dale motioned me to come closer and I leaned down. “What do you need, honey?”

“They wadded up my blazer and put it in that plastic bag over there. I want you to hang it up!”

I laughed out loud! So Dale. He’s in the ER having a stroke, and he wants me to hang up his blazer! I dug it out of the bag and hung it up. I learned in that moment the lesson of taking my joy where I could find it. There wouldn’t be many opportunities that day—or in the foreseeable future.

The ER doc explained that he thought Dale had suffered a stroke, and he wanted to know if I would give my permission for them to give Dale an antistroke medication called a TPA (tissue plasminogen activator). He had a chart that explained when the TPA was given to stroke victims within two hours of the onset of the stroke, about 20 percent greatly improved, 80 percent remained the same, and 3 percent died. Died! Did Dale have any type of bleeding disorder? If he did, this would kill him.

“No bleeding disorder,” I told the doctor. “What would you do?”

I can’t remember what he said, but I thought, I have to call my mom. My dad had died of an intracranial hemorrhage a year and a half earlier. Mom would know what to do.

“Mom.” I started crying. “Mom, Dale’s had some type of stroke. I’m in the emergency room and the doctor wants to know if I’ll agree to let him administer this stroke medicine to Dale.” I did my best to explain what the doc had said, and we decided to go ahead with the TPA.

Mom said, “I’m getting on a plane as soon as I can. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

I hung up and called my church, Mountain Park Community Church. They were the only people I could think of who would be “home.” My friend Cindy is the receptionist. When she answered the phone, I explained my situation and asked her to please send someone to the ER.

Allan, our senior pastor, was in a meeting all day, but she would send Greg, another pastor.

The ER doc handed me a stack of papers to sign indicating I knew the risks involved in administering the TPA, and he prepped Dale to receive the drug. The doctor lowered the head of Dale’s bed, and instantly Dale was better! His speech was perfect; he could move his left side.

I looked at the doctor. “Oh my God! He’s going to be all right!”

The doctor looked stricken. “No, Kim. That means something else is wrong. Dale didn’t magically get better.”

They took Dale away for an ultrasound to try to determine what was happening.

I had a minute to catch my breath and to figure out what I should do. A woman from the hospital arrived to ask me to fill out admission papers. Do we have insurance? Where’s my insurance card? Please fill out this medical history. Do you have a religious preference? Can we send someone down to be with you?

I completed the paperwork. Another woman from the hospital chapel came to pray with me. I kept thinking, Is this a Christian hospital? Do they know I’m a Christian? It’s not. They didn’t.

The women left and I called a few friends. No one was home.

They brought Dale back and moved us to another cubicle. This one was bigger and directly across from the ER nurses’ station. I brought Dale’s blazer (hanging up) and the rest of his stuff—still jammed in the bag.

Dale hadn’t had a stroke. He’d suffered an aneurysm of his aorta—something I later learned is called an aortic dissection. His aorta had split on the inside, right at the top of the aortic arch, which is directly above the heart.

Dale was talking and full of questions and information. “Do they think I had a stroke?”

“They did. But you really had an aneurysm in your aorta.”

“When I was at the bank, I had a terrible pain in my neck.”

Dale’s stepmother, a cardiovascular surgical nurse, told me later that perhaps his carotid artery had collapsed—cutting off the oxygen supply to Dale’s brain, mimicking the stroke symptoms.

Dale then turned to the ER doc. “I think I should tell you that I have a terrible pain in my thigh.”

The ER doc and the nurse exchanged a glance that said, Oh, this is not good.

I asked the nurse, “What does that mean?”

She said the fact that his thigh was in such pain meant his aorta had dissected all the way down to his thigh.

“How do you fix that?”

“Where is your family?” she asked.

“California.”

“You should call them right now.”

“Will they get here in time?”

“Probably not.” Probably not? It’s only a six-hour drive.

I called my son, Beau. Dale was Beau’s stepdad, and they’d always had a close relationship. Beau said he would call his sister, Erin, and bring her and his wife, Meagan, to Phoenix as soon as he could.

I called Dale’s brother, Cole, who lives in San Diego. He had jury duty the next day but said he would tell them he couldn’t stay, and then he’d drive to Phoenix as soon as possible. Dale’s sister, Dana, was getting ready for a job interview in Texas, so I left her a message to call me when she could. Dale’s mom was in the hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas. I called her husband to tell him the news.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said.

“It’s not good, Jim. I’ll call you when I can.”

I returned to Dale’s “room,” and the ER doc was frantically calling every cardiovascular surgeon in the area. No one was available. At one point, he thought someone might be available in Flagstaff, Arizona. When I told Dale they might fly him there to do surgery, he said, “Well, get my clothes and I’ll get dressed!” Oh my gosh! Only Dale would want to look “snappy” on his Flight for Life to Flagstaff! Before the decision was confirmed, however, the doctor in Flagstaff got another patient. Option closed.

Pastor Greg showed up with Gene, a longtime friend from our small group Bible study. Dale was excited to see them! Honestly, for all of our married life, Dale was not an ideal patient. Truth be told, I’m not a great nurse, either. It was really unbelievable that Dale was in such great spirits, given the circumstances. It was truly a gift from God that he seemed to be unaware of how grave his situation was.

Word started to get out that Dale was in the hospital, and friends and neighbors began to arrive. With each new friend, Dale would say, “Is that so-and-so? I can’t believe you’re here! How are you?” Greg and Dale talked golf and sports cars. Friends said prayers. People visited with each other. Everyone except Dale knew he was in trouble, but it was almost a festive scene.

The ER doc was still calling surgeons when I heard him say, “I don’t care. I need you to come. There isn’t anyone else, and you’re only a mile away.” Apparently, a surgeon was on the way—from Banner Desert.

By that time, about twenty people were in Dale’s ER “room”—a scrub team and ten friends. When the reluctant surgeon arrived, he threw back the curtain and said, “Mr. Knight. Mr. Knight! You’ve suffered a catastrophe, and you’re going to die!”

No kidding.

Everyone was silent. For a moment, I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. He literally said, “I’m not kidding. The only reason I’m here is because you’re young and I’m going to give you a chance.”

The ER doc told me later, “If I’d been standing next to him, I would’ve punched his lights out. But, Kim, we needed him.”

Suddenly the scrub team jumped into action. With very little fanfare, they rolled Dale off to surgery. I’ll always remember the funny little wave he gave on his way out. I thought they’d prep him and I’d get a chance to talk with him before they administered anesthesia, but that didn’t happen. They’d been waiting so long for a surgeon that they took him straight to surgery.

My neighbor and good friend, Bill, said, “I don’t believe that doctor. Dale is going to be fine.” We prayed in the emergency room, our friends all expressed good wishes, and most people left. Bill, his wife, Christine, and several other friends went with me to a waiting area.

My mom called to see what was happening. She asked to talk to Bill and said, “Do not leave Kim there by herself. I’ll be there tomorrow.” Bill promised someone would stay with me, and Mom hung up.

Friends came and went for the next couple hours. A surgical nurse came out to tell me what was happening. “We had to lower Dale’s body temperature in order to do surgery. We’re just getting started.”

“When will I get to talk to him?”

“Oh, you won’t. We put him out a couple of hours ago.”

I’ve thought a lot about what I might have said to my husband of twenty-two years. But, honestly, I’m glad I didn’t get to have that conversation. If I’d had a chance to say those private thoughts, maybe he’d have been worried. I believe Dale’s last thought was, They’re going to fix me right up.

The surgery lasted for about eight hours. Finally, the surgeon who’d been so callous earlier came out to talk to me. I don’t know if he’d thought about his initial remarks or if someone told him how awful he’d sounded, but he was much more kind now as he gave me an update on Dale’s condition.

“Mrs. Knight, Mr. Knight is in recovery. I did the best I could, but I could only repair about one inch of his aorta. It was like working with tissue paper. He’s stable, and I think his aorta will hold up. But swelling on his brain is likely to kill him.”

My kids arrived before I had time to consider Dale’s prognosis. I filled them in on what I knew, and I sent my neighbors home. My pastor, Allan, came out to talk with me after his meeting ended. We waited for Dale to leave recovery and to be taken to a room.

I sent everyone home except Erin. We waited to hear from the head of the Cardiovascular Intensive Care Unit (CVICU). A doctor about fifty years old—six years younger than Dale—came out to talk with us.

“Mrs. Knight, there isn’t another person in this hospital in as much trouble as your husband. We need to talk about the amount of disability he’d be willing to live with.”

“What amount of disability would you be willing to live with?”

“Almost none.”

“I think that’s where Dale would be too.”

“Well, there is going to be some disability. He’ll probably have some amount of paralysis, and he’ll remain on a ventilator.”

“Will he be able to talk?”

“Probably not.”

I couldn’t imagine it. My husband, the most interesting person I’ve ever met, the guy who made a living for thirty years as a salesman, wouldn’t be able to walk or talk. He couldn’t take it. I’m not sure I could either.

“You should go home and get some sleep.”

“Oh no. I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“Kim, he’s not going to wake up.”

“Not now or not ever?”

“Probably not ever.”

All of this sounds cold but, honestly, I was truly grateful for the straight talk. At no time did I have any unfounded expectations about how this might turn out. The CVICU doc took Erin and me to another waiting room, and we finally got to see Dale for a few minutes. He was hooked up to a ventilator and some other machines and was totally unresponsive. My Dale would’ve had some wise remark about how he looked or where was the damn blazer. Where was the damn blazer, anyway? This Dale was a very sick man. I needed to get my head in the game.

When I got home, I sent out a few e-mails to tell everyone what was happening. I had to notify the company from which we’d just purchased the franchise. I knew no matter what the outcome, I wouldn’t be able to continue with our plans. It wasn’t a one-man operation, and I couldn’t take care of Dale and run a business too. The franchise people were wonderful and told me to call when I was ready to make some decisions. Ultimately, they let me out of our agreement and returned our check. I’m eternally grateful to them for their kindness.

At about six in the morning, I received a phone call from the hospital. For a moment I thought, Dale woke up! But it was a different doctor, a neurologist, who said he was calling to ask me to authorize a DNR for Dale. I said I didn’t know what that was.

“It’s a ‘do not resuscitate’ order.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means when we determine there’s nothing else we can do for Dale, we won’t use any special means to keep him alive.”

“Please don’t do anything yet! I’ll be right there!”