From Lemons to Lemonade: My Journey from Loss to Renewal

By Gerri Mungin

Lemons to Lemonade is a story of loss and more. It is also a love story and a story of renewal. Gerri Mungin grew up in the middle of 1960s New York City. There she found love, married her childhood sweetheart, Ted, and went on to live her version of the American dream.

Gerri and Ted moved from New York to the San Francisco Bay Area, the first in their families to leave the nest. On the West Coast they laugh, cry, love, argue, kiss and make up, and raise two children. They retire to the beautiful community of Huntersville, North Carolina where they live an idyllic lifeuntil death comes knocking.

A warm, honest, sad, deeply moving as well as hopeful and thought provoking story, follow Gerri as she deals with the challenges that will face us all one day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Feb 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504350457

Gerri Mungin

In 2014, Gerri Mungin lost her husband and son within five weeks of each other and was catapulted from deep grief and loss toward a search for happiness. This memoir documents the first year of a life lived without the most important men in her life and her quest to find out whether she can smile, laugh and find joy ever again. She authors two blogs: I’m Retired—Now What and On a Journey and teaches yoga to seniors in Huntersville, North Carolina where she lives with her daughter.

Book preview

From Lemons To

LEMONADE

My Journey From Loss To Renewal

GERRI MUNGIN

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Copyright © 2016 Gerri Mungin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5044-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5046-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5045-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016901783

Balboa Press rev. date: 02/25/2016

CONTENTS

Preface

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 Journey

Chapter 2 What Does Legacy Mean?

Chapter 3 Remembering Ted: Early Days

Chapter 4 Time Stood Still

Chapter 5 The News

Chapter 6 Good-Bye, My Love

Chapter 7 Celebrating A Life

Chapter 8 The Hospital

Chapter 9 My Son, Lateef

Chapter 10 Good-Bye, Lateef

Chapter 11 Two Deaths—The Aftermath

Chapter 12 What Is Grief?

Chapter 13 365 Days Of Happy

Chapter 14 Out And About In New York City

Chapter 15 Guidance

Chapter 16 Taking Care Of Myself

Chapter 17 Are You Ready For This?

Chapter 18 Milestones

Chapter 19 October

Chapter 20 November

Chapter 21 December

Chapter 22 January

Chapter 23 February

Chapter 24 Now What?

Appendix A Son’s Tribute To His Dad

To Ted, Lateef, and Rashida

To Aileen, Jade, and Ami

Our love story

All my work, my life, everything I do is about survival, not just bare awful, plodding survival, but survival with grace and faith. While one may encounter many defeats, one must not be defeated.

—Maya Angelou

PREFACE

M y life is an open book. This is an unusual statement coming from someone raised by a single mom who was adamant that we keep our business to ourselves. She told us time and time again that whatever happened in the family stayed within the family. Without questioning, we followed the rules. It was the first learned cultural norm—a norm that gave birth to secrets.

When I finally made it to a twelve-step program years later, I learned that secrets were an alcoholic’s nightmare. Having things to hide was a good excuse to drink because those secrets were always in the background, worrying you and impacting your judgment. I worked with a mentor in the program (the program of Alcoholics Anonymous) who told me that after working through the twelve steps and getting real with myself and others, my life would be an open book. There would be nothing to hide—everything would be out in the open. What a feeling of freedom.

My mother would be mortified if she knew that I wrote a book talking freely about the death of my husband, the death of my son, and my ensuing grief. I remember a conversation we once had. She was at the start of her journey through Alzheimer’s. I asked her why she didn’t go down and sit and talk with the other ladies who lived in her building. She told me that she didn’t want those ladies to know her business. I laughed and asked her what, pray tell, kind of business an eighty-six-year-old would have. I thought it was funny—she did not. What I know is that when I lost my husband and son I needed help, and the first place I went to after I got off my knees was the Internet, then to the bookstore, and then to grief counseling. My twelve-step work had made me understand that only from opening up to my grief, could I have a possibility of coming out the other side. I also wanted to help others who might suffer from the effects of complicated loss. So I am not my mother, and this is what happened to my fluffy, comfortable, safe life.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

T here are so many people who have made a difference in my life and who have helped me on this journey. I have tried to remember you all, but if I have inadvertently left anyone out, please forgive me. It was not intentional. I love you, and I thank you.

I would like to thank my family for their support throughout my life and especially through the time of Ted’s and Lateef’s deaths. Navigating grief is made easier by a strong support system.

I would like to thank my friends who are really second family, and showed as much by doing what family does—bringing food, sending cards, calling, e-mailing, and praying for us.

Specifically, I would like to thank my sister, Elaine, for always treating Lateef as if he were your son, for crying with me and being my first reader, and for giving me good constructive feedback. Thanks go to my brother, Glen Mason, for understanding and for sharing my pain. Thank you for offering to go in Lateef’s place—that was not the plan, but I really appreciate your selflessness. Thanks go also to my sister-in-law Helen Deas (the older of Ted’s two sisters) for first being like a sister to me, for supporting me through Ted’s illness, for loving him so much, for researching herbal remedies to help him feel better and for also providing me with background for this love story when my memory was sketchy. Thank you, Horace Mungin, Ted’s brother, the real author in our midst, for your kind and caring spirit, for your love of Ted and for your guidance and information about publishing. Thank you, Barbara (Ted’s youngest sister) for loving your big brother so much, for visiting and for your calm and quiet spirit.

Akil Cornelius (one of Ted’s nephews and Lateef’s cousin), thank you so much for stepping up. Thank you for calling Lateef’s daughters and Aileen every week. Thank you for visiting them. Thank you for caring so much for them when I know you have so much to do with a family of your own and your studies. Thank you Margot Cornelius for taking our family as your own, for your support and prayers and for loving Lateef’s children as if they were your own. May you both always be blessed. Thank you, Vaughn Mungin, for standing in at Lateef’s funeral and for calling your uncle Ted just at the time he needed some encouragement. Thank you to all the cousins who stood in the gap and helped Rashida through such a hard time: Akil Cornelius, Kamilah Cornelius, Sharnece Edmonson, Vaughn Mungin, Malcolm Mungin, and Kevin Mungin.

Thank you, Rashida, for being there for me and providing comfort even when your own grief was so deep. Thank you for holding my hand. You are so much like your father, and he was so proud of you. You are my sunshine.

The day after Lateef’s death, I was standing at the patio door looking out at the beautiful trees outside of the wooden deck that Lateef loved to sit on. The house was full of people, but I sensed nothing but loneliness. Thank you, Aileen for coming up behind me and putting your arms around me. Together we looked out at the woods and shared our grief. I, missing my son—you, missing your husband. I needed a hug right then. Thank you for caring then and now.

My good friend Novanna Hunt polished my words, grammar, and thoughts—you are a great wordsmith. Thank you, Vonnie. Both Vonnie and her daughter, Monique Hunt, helped me immensely as I was trying to pull myself out of the abyss. Having just lost their husband and dad, they understood what I was going through.

Friends Caroll Sandifor, Loretta Hoard, Al and Alice Diggs, Paula Davis, Angela Archie, Marcie Brown, Pat Lott, Brenda Johnson, William and Julia Howard, Linda Howard-Ryan, Eartha Corbin, Marion Coleman, Cynthia Bozman, Dorothy Lassair, and William and Linda Dodd; and cousins Sharon Munajj, Keith Coles, and David Coles—thanks so much for checking in on us.

Thank you, longtime friends Yvonne Coaxum (friend of fifty-two years), Polly O’Connor (friend of forty-five years) and Chris DiCanto (friend of thirty-five years. All three of you had suffered the loss of your spouses but were willing and able to reach out to me in my loss. I am forever grateful. Thank you Yvonne for that lovely poem you wrote after Lateef’s death. It was supremely comforting.

Cousin Sharon Munajj, niece Jewell Myers, and sister Elaine Murphy—thank you so much for taking over the kitchen and teaching the young ‘uns how to make fried chicken. You made the family gathering after Ted’s funeral a warm, comforting affair.

Thank you to Carroll and Naylor Fitzhugh for being such a support to me and Ted and for braving the worst storm of the year to drive from North Carolina to Georgia for Lateef’s funeral—you’ll never know how much it meant for me to see you there. Courtney Fitzhugh—thank you for the cancer research articles and your encouragement. You were always available and your compassionate spirit lifted us up. Lenzy Wallace—thank you so much for standing up at Ted’s funeral and for having all of our friends from the gym stand up. I will never forget that show of support.

David and Terri Crockett—Thank you so much for being such