counting my blessings

I’ve been very unhappy lately and it’s been over a month—five weeks and two days exactly—since I’ve been able to experience true joy. Probably longer than that if I’m being honest. If you follow my blog, you’re aware that my boss of almost twenty years, who was also one of my dearest friends in the entire world, lost his battle with cancer last month. People keep asking if I’m “okay” and depending on your definition of “okay,” the answer is “yes.” I’m functioning. I get out of bed every day, work out, go to work, indulge in some social interaction, read, write, etc., but despite the outer appearance of hanging in there, I’m merely going through the motions. My friend’s death weighs on my mind almost constantly and I miss his presence in my life more than I can convey in writing. Throughout our years of friendship, whenever I would express unhappiness or dissatisfaction with my life to my friend, he would acknowledge my feelings, but urge me not to lose sight of the wonderful things I had in my life despite not having other things I desired. With his advice in mind, I have decided to dedicate my blog post to listing the wonderful things I have in my life even in the midst of my sadness and the gaping hole his death has left in my heart. I hope by putting these blessings down on paper, I will be in a better position to appreciate my life as I currently know it.

Friends – Alan was extremely special to me (still is), but he is not my only close, loyal friend. My friends have always been there, but they have really stepped up in my time of need. They check up on me without being overbearing. They are patient with my mood swings. They attempt to distract me while acknowledging how difficult it will be. My friends who have also experienced true and devastating loss have shared their stories and reassured me that my feelings are normal. My friends who live farther away have invited me to come visit them and have offered to come to me. With their words and actions, they have made it clear I have friends in this world. I’m positive Alan knows he can never be replaced, but I’m sure it gives him peace knowing I have so many other wonderful friends looking out for me. I thank my friends from the bottom of my heart.

Family – My closest family members know how much I valued my relationship with Alan and they’ve been completely supportive during this difficult time. I fear that I will grieve too long and eventually frustrate my family, but my mother has assured me she’s there for me every step of the way. My brother in New Mexico checks up on me regularly and I know it pains him to think of me so sad. He told me so. My sister Marjorie picks up the phone each and every time I call unless she’s at school and if she can’t get talk, she sends me a text to let me know when she’ll be around. She’s been a rock to me this past year. From the day I called her crying when Alan received his diagnosis to the day his wife told us his organs were failing and he might not make it, my sister listened on the other end of the phone while I cried hysterically. She apologized for being powerless to make the situation better, but just being there for me was a comfort. I get to see her three weekends in a row which hasn’t happened since we lived under the same roof over twenty years ago. I am grateful for something to look forward to.

Writing – Writing has been my most powerful distraction from pain. When I get lost in my writing, I’m able to put my own problems to the side at least temporarily. Most of the fleeting moments of happiness I’ve had over the past month have been due to the act of writing, the success of my existing novels, and the anticipation of publishing my fourth book later this year. I’m busy with my book manager and cover artist working on the cover, my editor has completed her first round of edits, and I’m genuinely excited about and grateful for this aspect of my life.

Good books –Besides writing, another true distraction for me is reading. I read on average a book and a half a week. I have no idea how I manage to do that. Okay, I lied. I read whenever I have a few minutes of free time, including while blow drying my hair, riding the subway, and eating my lunch. Sometimes I get so engrossed in a book, when I pull my head out of my Kindle, it takes a moment to remember my sadness. I’ve read the following amazing books in the past few weeks: Is This All There Is? by Patricia Mann, Spin by Catherine McKenzie, Killing Ruby Rose by Jessie Humphries and Driving with the Top Down by Beth Harbison and they were all five star reads.

Job – Many people use going to work as a distraction from dealing with their personal problems.  Unfortunately, my friend’s death threw my world off-kilter both personally and professionally. My grief follows me to work each and every day since Alan was my boss for eighteen years and at three different law firms. Aside from the last year when he was sick, we saw each other five days a week (not including vacations) and ate lunch together almost daily. Walking into work each morning knowing he’s never coming back is so hard and I often have difficulty catching my breath. I have broken down at my desk on multiple occasions. It took me a week to be able to walk past his office. This doesn’t sound like much of a blessing, but bear with me. As challenging as it is to proceed as if it is business as usual when it’s far from it, I’m blessed to work with some great people who understand my pain and are dealing with their own feelings of loss. For the most part, people at work have expressed their sympathy but have also given me room to breathe. My clients have been kind as well and often check up on me. I’ve taken to eating lunch in Alan’s office which now provides me with some comfort and makes me feel closer to him. And of course, there is the obvious: I make a good living, I have comprehensive health insurance and a 401K plan. People tend to take these things for granted, but I’m thankful for a steady paycheck.

Television – I’m a huge fan of the small screen and I am blessed that despite the limited first-run shows currently on the air, I can curl on my couch and binge-watch my new favorite show, The Good Wife, on Amazon Prime. I also can watch back-to-back sappy original movies on The Hallmark Channel. Finally, I’ve recently rediscovered The Long Island Medium on TLC. I’ve always believed that our spirits live on even after death, but now more than ever. Watching The Long Island Medium reinforces my belief that Alan’s energy is still out there and that he can hear me when I talk to him. I know not everyone shares my thoughts on the afterlife and everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but I’ve heard too many stories from credible individuals as well as had my own experiences and I will not be swayed. If it brings me peace of mind and doesn’t hurt anyone, why not?

Spin class – I’ve been running since I was in grammar school and until recently it was one of my favorite activities and certainly my exercise of choice. Since Alan passed away, running has becoming painful because it brings all of my thoughts and feelings to the surface and I wind up breaking down in tears. Spinning, on the other hand, takes so much concentration that I can’t follow the class and focus on my despair at the same time. Since I don’t want to be the only one in the saddle when everyone else is in third position, I choose paying attention to the instructor. As a result, I get a great workout without crying. Here’s to that!

Text messages – I am unbelievably grateful to have saved all of the text messages Alan and I exchanged. Although I only allow myself to read them every couple of weeks, each time I go through a month of texts, it’s like traveling back in time. I can laugh at his jokes, read his advice, and marvel at the amazingly sharp, witty, and easy banter we shared. It’s truly priceless. Unfortunately, I only have messages since October, 2013, after he was already diagnosed with cancer, but his sense of humor was always present.

Memories – Above all else, I am grateful for my memories of Alan and for eighteen years of having the best, most loyal boss in the entire world. I used to say that no job was one hundred percent stable but mine was as close as you could possibly get because Alan always had my back. More valuable to me than that, however, is the friendship we built together over the course of close to two decades. It was a marathon, not a sprint, but when we reached the finish line, neither of us had any doubts of where we stood in the other’s heart. I carry no guilt about the things I said/did not say to Alan and there is nothing Alan could have told me before he died that he didn’t already tell me with words and show me with actions at least a hundred times. For that, I am truly blessed.

And there you have it. Tonight before I go to bed and more than likely shed a few tears over missing my dear friend, I will also count my blessings of which there are many.


  1. Mary Rowen on August 13, 2014 at 10:04 pm

    Hi Meredith, this is a beautiful post. You mentioned watching the Long Island Medium, and although I don’t watch that show, I did go to see another medium a few years ago who gave me a lot of comfort about my father. I went to see the medium with my mom and daughter, and she claimed she could talk to my dad, who died about thirteen years ago. The information she told us couldn’t possibly have been made up–it was far too specific–and it really helped me believe that my dad’s energy is still close to us, and that peoples’ souls (or whatever you want to call them) endure much longer than our bodies. I hope you have a good night, and yes, memories are everything. I’m so glad you have such wonderful ones, as does Alan.

    • meredithgschorr on August 14, 2014 at 10:22 am

      Thanks so much Mary. It’s so nice to hear that the medium helped you believe your father’s spirit was still with you. It’s a very comforting thought.

  2. Patricia Mann on August 14, 2014 at 12:56 am

    Meredith, I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face because you have expressed all the conflicting feelings of a crushing loss so eloquently. While we want to wallow in sorrow over how unfair it is and keep asking why?, we also feel the need to take stock of how blessed we are to still be here and to have opportunities for joy. My mother in law, who was a second mother to me for 20 years, passed away 6 years ago. I felt so many of the same things you shared here. You brought me back to the raw pain of the early days and I wished I could hug you because it’s the hardest thing to be there. But you also made me realize that now, with the passing of time, my relationship with her is more beautiful than ever. She is still ever-present in my daily life, reminding me to appreciate every moment and guiding me with advice and her warm spirit which surround me and our family always. Alan will always be part of your life, just in new, and possibly surprisingly wonderful ways. Sending you lots of love.

    • meredithgschorr on August 14, 2014 at 10:24 am

      Thank you Patricia. I’m so sorry you lost your mother in law. It really is so difficult to lose someone you love, but hearing other people’s stories provides me with a lot of comfort that I’ll get through it. XOXO.

  3. Patricia Mann on August 14, 2014 at 1:01 am

    PS… I’m a little “out there” and agree with Mary and the Long Island medium about people’s energy remaining with us. I have a few possessions of my mother in law’s that I keep close and that provide indescribably other-wordly comfort when I need it. So by all means, keep having lunch in his office for as long as you can and try to keep a couple of things that were his or especially remind you of him because part of him will stay in those items and you’ll feel his spirit in them. Our spirits are way too powerful to just disappear!

  4. Hilary on August 15, 2014 at 9:12 am

    Meredith – what a beautiful post. I could feel your love for Alan in every word…. I know every day is so hard, but it is wonderful you are able to count your blessings….

    As for the medium, I totally believe too. My dad passed away when I was 14 years old. It was beyond difficult – losing a parent is so hard at any age but when you are in your early teens you also loose your childhood. When I was about 18 years old my mom went to a medium. She wasn’t sure what would happen so she wanted to go alone. There was no way that he could have known what he knew. Then years later we both went to a different one (it was a group read) and again, he knew so much, and his words brought me so much comfort. Keep talking to Alan. I truly believe he hears you. And be on the lookout, you will see signs proving this…

    • meredithgschorr on August 15, 2014 at 7:09 pm

      Thank you Hilary – I definitely talk him. He’s probably saying “Shut up already!” Not really… He’d never say that to me.

      I’m so sorry you lost your father at such a young age.

  5. writerwithdogs on August 15, 2014 at 4:31 pm

    Meredith – so sorry for your loss and your pain. You know I was there six years ago when my husband died, so I understand what you are going through. Counting your blessings is good, hugging those close to you better, but you need to allow yourself time to grieve and be easy on yourself about it. I wrote my widow book to come to terms with my loss and I told myself I would get back out into life rather than give in to grief. But all that said, we need to move at our own pace. You loved your friend dearly and that doesn’t go away. His spirit and love are always with you – but it is the physical being we ache for when someone leaves us. Time does help, doing something everyday to move forward, being grateful for things past and present, but most of all, be kind to yourself if you are sad and find the small daily pleasures that will make you smile. You were lucky to have such a dear friend. I was lucky to have had my husband. I used that love as a base to find strength to move forward on. Sending you hugs.

    • meredithgschorr on August 15, 2014 at 7:09 pm

      Thank you for this. Sometimes I Do need to hear that it’s ok to grieve and that I don’t need to rush the process. I’m trying to appreciate what I have, but it doesn’t make me any less sad about what I’ve lost.

  6. ARRivera on August 15, 2014 at 10:11 pm

    Reblogged this on A.R. Rivera Books and commented:
    I’m in awe of your bravery.
    I’m re blogging this post, too because… lady, you’re doing exactly what you should be doing. And it’s hard and it sucks. But you’re still doing it.
    All any of us can do in the face of tragedy is stand together and be grateful. Grateful for what was and is.
    Thank you, Meredith.

    • meredithgschorr on November 17, 2014 at 2:52 pm

      I just saw this comment now. I’m a glutton for punishment, re-reading old posts with tears in my eyes. Thank you for calling me brave. I often feel anything but.

      • ARRivera on November 17, 2014 at 3:15 pm

        Its when we stay still and give into the urge to quit that it becomes most important to move. You’re doing it. That’s what makes you brave and its natural not to feel like its a brave act, because often the louder emotions are the ones we tend to hear and want to listen to.
        If it weren’t a challenge to move ahead, it wouldn’t be brave.

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