I started writing this post a few a weeks ago not knowing if I would go through with making it public or not. It is a detailed account of the passing of my best friend and fiancee. This Thursday will mark the ten year anniversary of his death. For a long time I have had immense anxiety over this date on the calendar and tried not to draw attention or acknowledge it and of course with good reason. But this date, along with some of the personal loss and struggles that many of my friends and family have faced over the first half of 2013, have caused me to do a great deal of reflecting (more so than usual) of what the last ten years of my life has meant to me. Asking questions about my life and the different roads I've traveled down, curve balls I've been thrown. The best of laid plans...blessings in disguise...second chances...the plans that the higher powers that be have for us. I don't talk about this time in my life that often, more so out of fear that I may make others around me uncomfortable. Lately, over the past two years, I've been able to open up more and talk about it. Sometimes it does make people uncomfortable, and then there are those times when I can see that opening up and telling my story has given hope and comfort. It is my sincere hope that in reading this you will feel the latter. This story is a piece of me. It doesn't define me but has without a doubt shaped who I am today. I've chosen to write about my story here on my mommy blog because my children are my greatest success in life and the beams of sunshine that broke through out of tragedy and loss.
June 13, 2003 began like any other normal day for me. I woke up and got ready for the day and headed down to my new job in the city. I was 23 at the time with the world waiting in front of me. I was engaged to my best friend. A beautiful spirit. Two nights before we sat in his parked car sipping on hot chocolate talking about plans for our future and everything waiting for us. I remember him talking to me passionately that night about how much he just wanted people in his life to be happy and to do deeds in life that fulfilled happiness in themselves and others around them. He was always striving to be a better person and was so mindful of his actions and words. The following day he went into work with his father and brother. He had a terrible headache all day but didn't think anything of it. On their way home he vomited. When he got home he just wanted to take some Tylenol and go to bed. I called him that night (we both still lived with our parents at the time) and told him to get some rest and that I loved him not knowing that would be the last time we would speak to each other again.
Flash forward to the next morning. I was only at work for about an hour when I got a call from Pino's older brother. I thought that was strange since I didn't usually get calls from him. He told me that Pino was in the hospital and to get there right away. I asked him what floor to go to? He said to just get myself into a cab and not worry about that. His voice didn't sound right. Something was wrong. I ran down to the street (somewhere near Yonge/King) in tears and hailed a cab. I told the cabby to take me to Etobicoke General. He saw my tears from his rear view window and told me not to worry, that everything would be ok. I actually took comfort in that. I believed him that everything would be ok. While en route I was flooded with a barrage of memories me and Pino had shared. It was the strangest feeling.
When I pulled up to the hospital in the cab his family was waiting for me outside the emergency room doors. They paid the cabby and helped me out. They just looked at me with tears in their eyes and shook their heads. They told me he was gone. I fell to the ground and let out a sound so visceral I can't even describe it to this day. My heart was physically breaking. Breaking beyond my worst nightmare. We later learned from the autopsy that he had suffered a ruptured aneurysm of the carotid artery. The vomiting was the first indication of this. It was more than just a bad migraine. He should not have taken Tylenol and gone to bed. He should have gone to the hospital immediately.
My life as I knew it was over. All my dreams passed away with him. No travels and adventures, no moving into our new little apartment, no September wedding, no filling a home with children one day. As days, weeks, months went on I tried to make sense of it all but I couldn't wrap my head around any of it. Milestones would pass like our wedding day, the anniversary of the day we met in a little vintage clothing store on Queen West. I went through a roller coaster of emotions. One minute I would feel mad at him for leaving me like that and the next I would find myself wandering around in areas of Toronto where we enjoyed hanging out thinking I would find him there. I wound lock myself in my room and play our favourite music over and over and over. I tried connecting with his closest friends but it almost made the pain worse.
I felt so alone and fell into a dark place. I saw no point in living in a world without him. In fact, a few months after Pino's passing I took a handful of sleeping pills just wanting so badly to leave this world to be with him again. After, a short stay in hospital I realized how completely stupid and selfish that was of me. And afterwards, even if I fell into that dark place, I never let it get so bad where I would do something like that to myself or my family again. I did however start making some irrational decisions like deciding that I needed to be off on my own to get my "shit together" as they say. So like any sane clear headed person would do (not) I got a working VISA arranged and booked a flight for England. I had ideas of being out there for years. Starting a new life and identity for myself. I lasted out there for about 5 months until I got home sick and came back. And once again I dusted myself off and got up again. After shuffling around over the next few months I finally found a great little job at Toronto Rehab...where I met (and am still friends with to this day) some great people. It gave me the confidence I needed to be independent again.
The same week as starting my new job I decided to meet Brandon for a coffee after a few weeks of much back-and-forth conversations online. He was amazing. It was an odd feeling. Feeling that sensation in my heart again. I wrestled a lot with feelings of guilt. Was I betraying Pino? After he passed away I initially thought I would be celibate for the rest of my life with no desire to be with anyone else ever again. But in this life you are usually a slave to your own heart. It is only human to want to connect and be close to someone. To be loved and to love back. And this is what I did.
It is an extremely conflicting feeling falling in love again and being happy after the passing of a fiancee/spouse. I was always, and continue to be, sensitive to Brandon's feelings the most when it comes to this part of my life. Was this just too much baggage for the poor guy to take on? How do you explain mourning the loss of someone that meant the world to you but at the same time be so head-over-heels in love with the man that is standing right in front of you? I am very lucky that I've always had Brandon's unconditional understanding. Brandon (also my best friend) and I have been together now over eight years, married for almost five. He is an incredibly patient and loving man. At times I wonder if I even deserve him. In total we've had 2 apartments, on our second home (that truly feels like "home" and where I hope my grandchildren will be coming to visit me one day), proud parents of Marley (dog), Moe (cat), and last but never ever least we are blessed to have our two amazingly crazy intense and beautiful children Gavin and Mary Joan. We call ourselves the Fifth Fam. Becoming a mother also made me more empathetic to how Pino's loss impacted his parents. At the time I felt like my pain trumped everyone else. But Pino's loss impacted so many people on a deep level beyond measure. Now, as a mother, I cannot even bring myself to imagine ever losing one of my children. It is incomprehensible to me.
Ten years ago there was no way I would have ever believed you if you told me this is where my life was going to end up. A wife and a mother in our little home only a few blocks away from where I grow up. I am happy again. At the beginning of this journey the road was rough. I thought it was wrong of me to be happy...or even so much as smile or laugh again. But I now know that was just my grief distorting my rational thinking.
Life's roads are never going to be clear or smooth for any of us but I am telling this story because its been ten years and I finally feel like I'm reaching a point where I can exhale. I can look back at the roads I've taken so far and, even though I have a few regrets, I can say I did alright. My life is here with my wonderful husband and children. I truly believe that Pino is proud of me and happy for me. That old saying "time heals" is a bunch of crap. The scars are always going to be there and sometimes wounds open. There is not a single day that goes by where I don't think of him at least once. Memories come out of no where and will make me smile, laugh, cry or all three at once. I'm not an overly religious person (a non-practicing Catholic girl with my own set of beliefs) so without getting overly preachy or religious maybe its better to say that time can make the dark moments in our life seem a little more bearable and the joys that come along the way are reminders that there is some bigger plan to all this madness. The world can be a dark and cruel place but it can also be a kind and beautiful one too if given a chance.
I know many close friends and family who have had their hearts broken over the past few months and others who are going through personal hardships. It is my hope that by sharing my story I can give at least one person a small amount of solace. It's always darkest before the dawn. Sunlight always finds a way of breaking through.
Giuseppe (Pino) Placentile (Born December 13, 1977, Died June 13, 2003)
A beautiful old soul, sensitive and tender, with a passion for making music, dancing, walks through old Toronto neighbourhoods, used bookstores, and vinyl records. Pino had a heart of gold. He left a lasting and powerful impact on all those who were fortunate to be around him and call him a friend. Had immense love for his friends and family. Is loved and missed to this day and always by many. He will never be forgotten.
