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Winter/Spring 2020

Dr. Susan Rose (Mrs. Bob Rose) • July 24, 2023

The year began quite well. You had recovered from your surgery over Thanksgiving, worked very hard on strengthening your legs once again to walk, and returned to work. We again thought we were out of the water and moving on toward recovery and health.

Yet, in February, you were beginning to feel tired all day - as if you weren't sleeping at all. We went to Dr. Davidson, your primary care doctor. He referred us to a nephrologist specialist as the testing he did showed that the kidneys were now affected. That nephrologist specialist referred us to Cleveland Clinic as he suspected Amyloidosis rather than Sarcoidosis, and the Cleveland Clinic had an Amyloidosis Specialty Program. The nephrologist at the Cleveland Clinic Amyloidosis Team recommended that we come there for a week as that would expedite the tests and save us from having to drive up so many times. We drove up the morning of Monday, March 9, and were admitted a little after noon that day. The doctor immediately began doing tests and gathered the team. It was discovered that is was Amyloidosis. And, because of that, it increased our stay to attempt to get the Amyloidosis under control.

So, the week was up on March 16, but we already knew that we would staying longer than a week to work on the new diagnosis. But, March 16 is a big day in the US. That's when the government shut down the country for COVID-19. We were told that I would have to leave. But, I explained to the Lead Nurse that I had been with you at the hospital since March 9, as I packed a bag and stayed with you when you were in the hospital. Since I had not left the hospital, there was no way that I could be infected or have brought any germs into the hospital. She agreed and discussed it with administrators, who allowed me to stay. During this week, state governors were getting involved and flexing their power muscles. On March 23, the Ohio governor announced that no hospitals were allowed visitors. I told the nurses that I would leave when the governor showed us his medical license. They were now worried for their nursing licenses and reported this to administration, who sent the police that were now acting as security for hospitals and federal buildings. You were worried that they would treat you poorly if I didn't leave at this time, because the police threatened to arrest me.

I left rolling my suitcase with tears streaming down my face. It was so difficult leaving you, because I was not only your wife but your advocate in all this health mess. (In hindsight, if I had known that I was going to lose you just seven short months later, I would have made a scene and had my face all over the papers as an example of the atrocities the Egos making the pandemic decisions were creating. Now that I know even more what political power did to so many families, I wish that I had stood up for us as well as all the others.)

I stayed that night in the Holiday Inn on campus, where we usually stayed for your appointments. You discovered that night that the cord that I left you to charge your phone was not long enough, and I wanted to see you so badly. So, the next day, I went back to see if I could go to the Joseph-Beth gift shop on the first floor of the clinic to buy the cord and deliver it to you. The police said no, but a wonderful nurse who was helping man the security station heard and offered to buy it for me and take it to you with a note from me. I gave her money and got out paper and pen to write a note, while she went to the store. She returned with change and took my note. I called you to tell you that I couldn't come up, but the nurse was delivering the cord. You said that was good, because your phone was you connection to me.

I went back to the Holiday Inn and stayed the next few nights there, because I wanted to be close in case someone talked some sense into the governor. After 4-5 nights (I don't remember, because it seemed so long), you talked me into going home saying that we could talk on the phone from anywhere and you didn't think this was going to life any time soon from what you hearing in the hospital. I checked out and drove home with a very heavy heart. I know that God was watching over me, because I was tired, sad, and all the emotions on that drive.

A couple days later, we were told that you had responded to the medication and were being moved to a step-down unit for PT and OT. Again, your legs had lost strength, because the nurses wouldn't allow you out of bed without help due to fall risks and there weren't enough nurses to help you. I was so angry! If I had been there, I would have been able to help. You had worked so hard after Thanksgiving, and now we were back at the same place. You were moved to the step-down unit on March 27.

We learned almost immediately that this was not a step-down unit, but a nursing home. You were not receiving the PT and OT that was promised and were being neglected. I called administration and demanded care. They got tired of hearing from me, but you were at least getting attention. On day two, I began trying to get you moved back home to my care. I could not accomplish release to home, but I was able to get you moved to Frazier here in Louisville. We were so excited, because they were allowing one visitor. I could see you! You were to be transported by ambulance on April 6. We learned on the morning of April 6 that our illustrious governor had joined the rest and forbidden all visitors to hospitals and nursing homes as April 6. We were crushed!

You worked hard and got to the point that your Physical Therapist and Occupational Therapist along with your nephrologist felt comfortable releasing you as long as I came in to train as your caregiver. That was scheduled for April 21, the day before your birthday. I was so excited!! You were ever your jovial self as we practiced lifting, transferring, etc. The funniest part was the car. You insisted it was the smallest car they could find and was on the sixth floor of the building as part of the PT equipment. We managed and were promoted. I came down on your birthday to practice one more time. Then, on April 23, we got to go home.

A woman in a blue jacket and white shirt is smiling for the camera.

I am a school counselor turned counselor educator, professor, and author helping educators and parents to build social, emotional, and academic growth in ALL kids! The school counseling blog  delivers both advocacy as well as strategies to help you deliver your best school counseling program.

A man and a woman are holding hands while walking in the woods.

I'm a mother, grandmother, professor, author, and wife (I'll always be his). Until October 20, 2020, I lived with my husband, Robert (Bob) Rose, in Louisville, Ky. On that awful day of October 20,2020, my life profoundly changed, when this amazing man went on to Heaven. After Bob moved to Heaven, I embraced my love of writing as an outlet for grief. Hence, the Grief Blog is my attempt to share what I learned as a Counselor in education with what I am learning through this experience of walking this earth without him. My mission is to help those in grief move forward to see joy beyond this most painful time. 

By Susan Rose March 5, 2025
Walking Through the Wilderness
By Susan Rose March 4, 2025
Finding Joy in the Mourning
If money can fix it , it 's not a problem.
By Susan Rose March 3, 2025
One of the many values Bob ascribed to was this simple but profound idea. When we were first married and broke, I remember telling him, “Well, we don’t have any, so that’s definitely a problem!” Now, as I look back on those early years, I see that he had his priorities in the right order even then - as a very young man. Those were wonderful years, filled with love, laughter, and an abundance of what truly matters. We had each other, and that was all we needed. Understanding the Concept As we grew older and life brought us both challenges and blessings, I came to understand Bob’s perspective more deeply. Money can solve a lot of inconveniences and temporary struggles, but it can’t touch the things that truly matter. Health, relationships, time—these are the priceless treasures we often take for granted until they’re threatened or lost. When Bob’s health began to fail, his words took on a new weight. I would have traded any amount of money and gone into endless debt to restore his health and have him back. The Pricelessness of Love and Time Loss is one of life’s greatest teachers. It strips away the distractions and forces us to confront what we truly value. It teaches us to cherish the time we have, to hold our loved ones close, and to prioritize the moments that can never be purchased. Looking back, I realize that our wealth wasn’t in bank accounts or material possessions but in the love we shared and the memories we created. When we lose someone we love, the world feels like it shifts beneath our feet. But in the midst of the pain, loss also brings clarity. It reminds us of the fleeting nature of life and the importance of investing in what truly matters. Money can’t mend a broken heart or replace a lost loved one. It can’t buy back time or undo regret. But it can teach us — if we let it — to focus on the things that endure. As I reflect on the lessons simply walking through life with him taught me, I find myself filled with gratitude. Gratitude for the years we had together, for the love that continues to shape me, and for the perspective that helps me navigate life without him. It’s a reminder to cherish the people and moments that make life meaningful and to hold loosely to the things that can be replaced. Final Thoughts “If money can fix it, it’s not a problem” is more than just a saying; it’s a philosophy that encourages us to look beyond the surface and focus on what truly matters. Bob’s wisdom continues to guide me, reminding me to value the irreplaceable and to approach life with a heart full of love and gratitude. Loss may be a harsh teacher, but it’s also a profound one, showing us what really matters in this brief, beautiful journey called life.
By Susan Rose March 3, 2025
Mind, Eyes, Ears, Mouth, Heart, Hands, and Feet
A diagram showing the stages of the grief cycle
By Susan Rose February 24, 2025
Today, I’m sharing this diagram of the path within the stages of grief from one of the textbooks in the Grief Counseling course I teach. I think it’s so important to understand that grief isn’t a box to check off. It’s not a series of steps you climb and leave behind. Instead, grief is a work in progress — a journey that ebbs and flows, just like life itself. The Nonlinear Nature of Grief The stages of grief — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance — are often misunderstood. Many people think of them as a checklist to complete, with acceptance as the finish line. But in reality, grief doesn’t work that way. You might find yourself in a place of acceptance one moment, only to be pulled back into shock and denial the next. That’s not failure or regression; it’s simply how the process works. Grief is deeply personal and unpredictable. It’s not about moving forward in a straight line but about navigating a winding, ever-changing path. Some days, you may feel like you’ve made progress, and other days, it might feel as if you’ve taken several steps backward. Both are valid parts of the journey. Grace for the Journey In this process, grace is essential. Grace for yourself as you navigate the twists and turns, and grace for others who might not fully understand what you’re experiencing. Grief is exhausting, and the weight of it can feel overwhelming at times. It’s okay to pause, to take a breath, and to acknowledge that you’re doing the best you can. I pray each day that your burden becomes less heavy with each moment you carry it. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or leaving your loved one behind. It means finding ways to carry their memory with you as you move through life’s complexities. The Importance of Education and Awareness The diagram I’m sharing from my class is a tool to help students understand the nonlinear nature of grief. It visually represents how we can cycle through different stages multiple times, often in unexpected ways. This awareness is not only valuable for those studying grief but for anyone experiencing it. Understanding that these shifts are normal can help alleviate feelings of frustration or failure. Support and Community Navigating grief is easier with the support of others. Whether it’s friends, family, or a professional counselor, having people who can walk alongside you in your journey can make all the difference. Grief can feel isolating, but you don’t have to face it alone. Final Thoughts Grief isn’t a linear process, and that’s okay. It’s a complex journey, full of highs and lows, moments of peace and moments of pain. If all you can do today is put one foot in front of the other, know that it’s enough. You are enough. As you navigate the path of grief, remember to extend grace to yourself and those around you. Each step, no matter how small, is a testament to your strength and resilience. And always hold onto the hope that, with time, the burden will feel a little lighter, and the love you carry will continue to guide you forward.
By Susan Rose February 24, 2025
The School Counselor Shortage
A quote by chloe frayne with two hearts in the sand
By Susan Rose February 18, 2025
We don’t expect people to “move on” when something wonderful happens, so it baffles me that we expect them to move on when something terrible happens. When Bob came into my life, no one ever said, “You’re celebrating another anniversary. You need to get over that. You need to move on.” Similarly, when we sent out invitations to our children’s birthday parties, no one responded, “Another birthday! You need to move on.” Yet, when grief enters the picture, there seems to be an unspoken societal timeline, as though love and loss have an expiration date. Life Goes On, But Love Stays Life does go on, and we move forward, but moving on implies leaving something behind—as if grief were a mistake we learn from and then discard. Loving Bob was not a mistake. It was the greatest blessing of my life, and I’d choose him every time. My love for him didn’t vanish when his address changed to Heaven. It’s as present now as it was when he was by my side. Love is eternal, and so is its impact on our lives. The Fallacy of “Moving On” The idea of “moving on” after a loss diminishes the depth of our connections. It suggests that relationships—those we treasure most—can be packed away like old clothes, as though their value diminishes over time. But love isn’t something we outgrow. Instead, it becomes a part of us. It shapes who we are, influences how we live, and continues to grow even in the absence of the person we lost. When I think of Bob, I don’t dwell solely on his absence. I think of the joy, laughter, and shared experiences that enriched my life. I carry those memories with me, and they continue to guide and inspire me. Love isn’t bound by time or space. It transcends earthly limits, connecting us in ways that are both profound and unexplainable. The Blessing of Eternal Love Scripture reminds us of love’s permanence. In Romans 8:38-39, Paul writes: “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” This truth offers immense comfort. If God’s love for us is unchanging and eternal, so too is the love we share with others. Bob’s physical presence may be absent, but the bond we created remains intact, woven into the fabric of my life and my faith. As I move forward, I do so with the knowledge that loving Bob was—and continues to be—one of the greatest joys of my life. I will never “move on” from that love, because it is not something to be left behind. Instead, I carry it with me, allowing it to shape my actions, decisions, and relationships. Redefining Grief Grief is not about letting go; it’s about holding on to what matters while finding a way to live fully in the present. It’s a process of integrating loss into life, of continuing to love and honor those we’ve lost while embracing the blessings that remain. Final Thoughts Love doesn’t end, and neither should the way we honor it. Moving forward means cherishing the love we’ve known and allowing it to guide us into the future. My love for Bob is not a chapter to close but a story that continues to unfold. And as I walk this journey, I do so with gratitude for the love that shaped me and the promise that it will one day reunite us in Heaven.
By Susan Rose February 17, 2025
The Role of School Counselors
By Susan Rose February 10, 2025
Continuing to Spread Love and Kindness
If all you can do today is put one foot in front of the other and breathe , that 's enough.
By Susan Rose February 10, 2025
If all you can do this week is just to trudge through each day and put one foot in front of the other and breathe, that’s enough. This week can be difficult for those of us who lost our spouse. Valentine's Day is so focused on romantic love. It's perfectly okay to allow that some days are just like that, especially for those of us with an empty chair at the table and a hole in our hearts. This week, especially Friday, February 14, might be one of those days for you, and if it is, I want you to know that you’re not alone. Letting Go of Expectations Grief is heavy enough without adding the weight of others’ expectations—or your own. There is no rulebook for how you should feel or what you should accomplish on difficult days. It’s okay if all you do today is exist. Please don’t measure yourself against standards that don’t fit where you are right now. Your journey is yours alone, and surviving today is a victory worth celebrating. When the weight of grief feels unbearable, finding even the smallest joys can help you move forward. Whether it’s the warmth of a cup of coffee, the embrace of a loved one, or the sound of your favorite song, these little moments of light can make a big difference. Embrace what brings you comfort and lean on the support system you have. You Are Enough You are enough, exactly as you are today. The pain you’re carrying doesn’t diminish your worth or your strength. Surviving a difficult day requires courage, and even if it doesn’t feel like it, you’re showing that courage right now. Remember, healing isn’t linear, and some days just surviving is more than enough. The Power of Breathing Breathing might seem like the simplest act, but on hard days, it’s also one of the most profound. Taking a moment to focus on your breath—to inhale deeply and exhale slowly—can ground you in the present. It’s a small act of self-care, a reminder that you are alive and that each breath is a step toward healing. Remember that those relationships we cherish don’t end when life changes. Instead, we carry them with us. Their love and influence remain a part of us, shaping who we are and guiding us even in their absence. Final Thoughts This week with the anticipation of Valentine's Day and then the day itself may be difficult, but you’re doing enough. By simply taking one step at a time, you are showing incredible strength. Be kind to yourself and remember: you’re not alone in this journey. You are enough, and you’re doing the best you can. That is more than enough.
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