Without You: Recovering Life After a Significant Death

By Gwendolyn Faulkner-Holley

Without You - Recovering Life After A Significant Death recounts the author’s journey from the sudden death of her husband, her period of grief and self-discovery though the use of narrative, journal entries, and poetry. It is about finding one’s path to living a full and complete life after separation from a much loved husband.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781664268524

Gwendolyn Faulkner-Holley

Gwendolyn Faulkner-Holley is a retired educator who has spent many years teaching and writing. She was a member of First World Writers, Inc., a writing collective from Atlanta, Georgia. She received a Bachelors in English from Fort Valley State University and a Master’s of Science in Education, focusing on Technology In The Classroom, from Walden University in 2004.

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Copyright © 2022 Gwendolyn Faulkner-Holley.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced

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case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author

and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of

the information contained in this book and in some cases, names

of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

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Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6850-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6852-4 (e)

WestBow Press rev. date: 9/22/2022

CONTENTS

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Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Decisions—When and How Does It Get Better?

Chapter 3 Anger

Chapter 4 Clarity

Chapter 5 Rebuilding—Again

Dedicated to

Ulee and Gladys Faulkner from whom I learned how to love and be loved, my children who taught me unconditional love, my husband, William Kermit Holley, Jr., who was the love of my life, and my beautiful family who stand in support whenever and wherever they are needed.

PREFACE

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People have established many ways to report a death: passed on, passed away, gained their wings, and transitioned are just a few of the many that exist. Human beings are not as comfortable with death as other species, yet it will happen to all of us. When death is unexpected, it can leave loved ones feeling shell-shocked, alone, or empty. I felt all of these emotions and more. I wanted to talk to someone about what I was feeling without hearing those adages that we learned through the years. More recently, we learned that there are five stages of grief and, though there might be an expectation of drifting through each one in the order that writers present, that is not the case. Each stage can be present in any order, repeated, extended, and elongated. Grief has as many variations as there are people. It is not ever the same for everyone. What we can hope for are similarities that allow us to help each other as we learn to live through it.

This book is a presentation of the journey I took when I lost my husband in 2016. I used writing to begin rebuilding my life, and to manage the pain of separation and being alone after so many years of being a couple. It became a catalyst for growing, healing, and learning how to live life despite a devastating loss. My prayer is that others can use this work as a means of moving forward in their lives.

INTRODUCTION

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An Appointed Time of Departure

Like everyone, I have experienced grief. I have grieved a multitude of people connected to me by blood or friendship. One would think that so much loss is a preparation for death’s inevitability. I was terribly hurt when my daddy passed away. I didn’t want to believe he would die and leave this world. He was tall, dark, and especially handsome, and sometimes bigger than life to me. He was an extended family daddy because he looked after people in our extended family as best he knew how. I cannot pin a particular time limit on my grief for him, but I know it lasted. I remember that I thought of something I needed to ask him but never had the chance. That question plagued me for months and months, then years, after his death: When should I change the windshield wipers because they had begun smearing in certain places instead of moving water? It never occurred to me to ask someone else. For some strange reason, my daddy was the only one who knew the answer, and I had let him get away from this world without asking. I depended on his counsel.

The next significant death was my mother’s. As my sisters and I exchanged duty time in the hospital waiting room while our brother worked and visited at night, I became afraid that our mama was transitioning. She became somewhat disoriented. The nurses began to call her Lucy, a reference to her being somewhat playful when they asked her questions. It was not her normal way of responding. They should have addressed her as Gladys or better Miss Gladys, as she had earned the privilege to have her name said and respected. I am still ashamed to say that I never directly corrected those nurses. I was afraid that they would not give her the care she so deserved if challenged too much. Instead, I rubbed her face and told them how my mother had fed her family and opened her home and kitchen to anyone who was hungry; how she always tried to find an encouraging word for the hurt and pain people experienced; and how she knew when to bust a great joke and have everyone laughing. My mother, and her sisters, were fabulous cooks, and each had her specialty. One of my mother’s specialties was her turnip greens. They were so delicious that my sister and I would even drink the pot liquor. Next were her wonderful pound cakes. We would sit up late, hoping she would take pity on us and let us have a warm slice. On occasion, when she stood firm on her no, our daddy would say, Oh, let them have a little piece, Gladys. I’ll go to the store and get some ice cream. She would relent, and we would