My wife Donna was diagnosed in 2008 with Stage IV cancer. She died in 2011. For three plus years  I was a caregiver and the docent for her death. As Donna's moved toward death I changed. My awareness of the non-clinical aspects of our human condition expanded. I can say caregiving for a loved one with a terminal illness is task driven. Between scans, exams, chemo, radiation, and daily life I felt my own emotional pain and saw hers.  

Following Donna's death grief filled my heart. My grief became my journey. I charged into it headlong. I allowed light and knowledge to enter my grief wound. I harnessed my grief. I blogged, engaged with the grief community, wrote a memoir, and trained to become a volunteer crisis counselor.  I brought more of who she loved into being on my journey, although a bit late for her to benefit. 

This growth was a slow process like when a tree adds new bark. Layer by layer I accumulated awareness and understanding about mental health, the human condition, community, and sharing.

Donna was and will be, even in death, the sculptor of my being. My grief is the bas relief of her I run my fingers over. Her journey toward her death was the genesis for the Donna and Mark Memorial Trust. Of course if she were alive the trust would probably not exist because she'd want to go to Paris, Florence, Anguilla, and upgrade our living space. Gotta chuckle 

"Remember Her Name" Mickey Guyton