In this inaugural episode of "What Happens Next," the host introduces the podcast's core theme: exploring the moments after life-shattering events, when the world feels surreal and one must figure out how to move forward. She is joined by her friend Leanna, a licensed therapist, though the host does most of the talking. The host shares her deeply personal story of losing her father when she was 19, recounting the frantic drive to the hospital, the emotional goodbye over the phone, and the surreal experience of seeing life continue normally outside while her world fell apart. A pivotal moment was a compassionate nurse who sat with her overnight, explaining the hospital machines and answering her questions, providing an ounce of control and comfort in a helpless situation. The host reflects on the challenges of grief, including avoiding reminders, bargaining with God, and struggling to find signs from her father. She eventually finds peace in a memory of her father reaching for her in the hospital and a coincidental song that felt like a message. The episode also introduces "CintiKits," a grief kit company she is launching to help others process loss, emphasizing that grief is personal and lifelong but can lead to growth and a fuller life. The host concludes that while she would trade everything to have her father back, she now lives a happy, fulfilled life, and hopes the podcast will share diverse stories of navigating "what happens next."
Welcome to the first episode of what happens next.
I have my beautiful, lovely, funny kind friend here,
because I didn't want to do a solo episode.
I talked to myself enough, believe me.
And also she's a licensed therapist,
which may come in handy.
But for the first episode, I just kind of wanted to talk
about what this idea of what happens next means.
So for me, when I had gone through
an incredibly difficult thing in life,
I remember walking outside and seeing everyone just be normal.
People were at the park playing.
There were kids walking down the street, joyful.
People were smiling at me while I passed by
and this thing had happened in my life
that completely threw my entire world upside down.
And it was the strangest thing to see life
just go on as normal outside.
And then there was just this moment where I was like, wait,
I felt this before.
And it was the exact same feeling I felt
after my dad had passed and I left the hospital.
And I'm walking out of the parking garage.
People are smiling at me.
I'm like forcing a smile back.
And then I get in my car and I'm just totally blank with,
how do I drive home right now?
How do I just go home and do homework
after something like this happens?
Like how do I live life?
Which is something I never thought about.
I had lived a life, I guess, since inception
and it was just, you do what you do
and it all just came so naturally until it didn't.
And this moment just stuck with me.
In both of those scenarios that were very different,
it was like a bookmark in my life of I would look back
and if I was dating something in my life,
it was before or after that event.
And I think about all the changes that I had internally
with that and I was just so wrapped around this idea
of what happens next.
That moment when the world tilts off its surface
and your mind goes completely blank
and you just don't know how to put one put in front
of the other and you're just grasping it,
straws of control or hope or whatever it is
that kind of puts your feet back on the ground
of what happens next.
And at first, I channeled that energy into a TV show
because I was really frustrated with.
It felt like every movie would go to this climax
of this huge life-shattering thing happening
and then there'd be pretty quickly a resolution
and then a happy ending and we'd wrap up.
But for me, those moments felt much more like
the beginning of the biggest stories of my life
of when I was kind of thrown off whatever path
I had been walking for years at that point.
Who do I choose to be?
How do I regain a sense of zest for life
and hope and meaning in all of these things?
And so I wrote a show where basically
this thing that alters characters lives
is the first thing that happens.
So the story is, if you're gonna get sick
and be saying this, what happens next?
And it made its rounds, it got some attention
and it was just this thing that people would look at me
and then tell me there what happens next stories.
And I just thought it was so strange at the moments
that I think define us the most
or the ones we speak the least about
and it'd be people that I had known for years
and then they're telling me this part of the story
and I feel so much more connected to them.
I feel like I see them for the first time
and I feel just like I have such a better understanding
of what their story actually is.
And I think also when these big things happen,
whether sad, happy and different,
we kind of, if you don't have experience with it,
have an idea from movies, books or I don't know
of what that looks like of every Disney princess
lost a parent seeing the movies did not prepare me for it.
What did not help was kind of like, where's my Prince Charmy
in Castle, is that what comes next?
And it's cool to hear people that have walked it
in like the nuance that happens in the moment
and years later in these things that for me
just felt more like actual life than anything else.
And you know, the show, you didn't get picked up spoiler alert
and then the podcast kind of got born out of,
I really loved hearing that piece of people's stories
and honestly, people telling me their stories
is way cooler than anything I could write.
So I just kind of ran with it.
So that's what this podcast is.
I'm gonna tell you a little bit about my story.
Like any story, I feel like everything was fine
until it wasn't.
I was pretty fresh into college.
We had had an event where it was nobody, have your cell phones,
keep them locked away in your car.
And I did that and it was after the event passed,
I got to my car and I had three missed calls
and two voicemails and a bajillion texts for my mom.
And immediately my heart sank.
I knew something was wrong.
By the time I called her, she was like,
your dad's not feeling well, he's in the hospital,
but he's stable, just like finish out the week at school,
come home this weekend.
And my immediate instinct was, no, I'm driving home right now.
Of course.
She assured me everything was fine.
So I waited out the week and it was my last class of that week.
And for whatever reason I missed another call,
I think I was in class and I got the voicemail
and my mom was like, if you wanna say goodbye to your daddy
and you need to leave right now,
we've probably only got a few minutes.
And I'm hours away at this point
and it was just one of those things
where all of time freezes.
I couldn't tell you what I was doing in that moment,
but I remember there were a couple of people around me
who knew what was happening
and whatever was in my hands was taken
to wherever it needed to be.
I got in my car.
I had an appointment with the dean of students
knowing I would probably have to take time off
'cause something was happening.
And at this point I didn't really know what was happening.
And so funny in a moment where my mind is completely blank,
I was like, well, I can't miss that meeting later.
Let me be punctual.
So I call the dean of students office
and I'm like, hey, you know, things took a turn.
It's not good I'm going home right now.
And I'll never forget the sweet receptionist
was like, are you okay to drive?
And I looked out the windshield and I was like, clearly no.
Like the answer is no.
But there's not room for that answer.
So I just said, yeah, I'm fine.
Of course, like, you know, when somebody calls you
and tells you your dad's gonna die in a couple minutes,
it's like, it's good.
What's the issue?
And so I am absolutely wrong for this,
but I would do it a thousand times over.
I drove no less than 90 miles an hour
the entire way home.
And I was just in the mindset of,
I mean, if I get a pulled over,
maybe a police officer can get me there quicker.
I'll be, hey, the ticket, I don't care.
Was not bothered by these things in the moment.
And I'm like, at Google Maps,
I've never been to this hospital before
or any hospital at that point in my life.
I pull into the hospital.
There's nowhere to park,
but there's this like gravel lot
that has a bunch of signs everywhere
that was like, do not park here, you will get towed.
I parked right there.
I put the keys on the hood of my car.
I was like, no, like, I wanna make it easy
on your tow truck, like, take it away.
Not concerned.
Bolts it into the hospital sprinting.
And, well, I actually missed a point.
This is, again, therapist, you can tell me why.
Even when I'm like, let me remember this
over a decade later, everything in order.
There's still things I backtrack.
- Of course, yes.
- But on the way there, my mom called me,
'cause again, there was no way I was gonna make it.
And she was basically like, here's your dad, say goodbye.
And similarly, an hour ago, my life was very normal.
And there is no script on what to say.
And I can so appreciate that in that moment,
I think there's something very comforting
about having the ability to say something
when looking back and when grieving, it feels,
I don't know, maybe you had a little more control.
And so, to this day, I could not tell you what I said,
but I think it was some version of, I love you,
I'm on my way and I'll see you soon.
And I was in the space of like, well,
if I don't say goodbye, he won't die.
That's science.
'Cause I didn't approve it.
So for many years later, after that goodbye,
was erased from my vocabulary.
It was only see you soon.
- Yeah.
- And so, pulled into the parking lot,
sure I was gonna get to, didn't give a single shit,
ran into the hospital.
And fun fact, hospitals do not have a room,
666, as you can imagine.
My father was in room 667,
and I will never forgive them for that.
I was very religious at this point in my life,
and it was just like, okay.
And so, figure out what room we was in was full of adrenaline.
And I'm sure sweat and panic and everything,
you can imagine that moment.
And I was about to run into the room,
and my mom stopped me as I was crossing into the doorway
and just kind of prepared me for what I was gonna see.
'Cause she was hooked up to a lot of machines,
and he wasn't gonna look like my dad is I knew my dad,
and obviously we're all trying to be strong and calm
as we can around him, and I was not done.
in the moment and so she just kind of gave me a minute and then I collected
myself I walked in I held his hand I am so thankful that I had time with him and
he I was able to get there in time I think that made such a difference and I
guess it was a couple days but in my mind's eye it's a called blur it was just
like one really really long day in the hospital and I'll spare you all the
glory details spoiler alert didn't work out but a few things that really stuck
with me from that is I mean I lived in a very small town word traveled fast I
was getting a lot of texts and calls that I didn't have the capacity answer but I
did like read and listen to most of them and a lot of people that had known me
my whole life were very comforting and I appreciate everyone that reached out
but it's funny that when you're in that moment like nobody knows what to
say because there is nothing to say there's I mean the thing to say is I am a
genie and I'm gonna make your dad okay and nobody could do that unfortunately
and what I thought was really funny is some of the most comforting memories I
have from that time or complete strangers like I'll never forget there was a
nurse that worked at the hospital who I would love to like talk to an interview
now that it's been 10 plus years later because this is such a chance moment
that is really really impacted me and I wish I knew in the moment how important
that was going to be and could have relayed that to her so if any internet
sleuths are able to figure it out March 1st 2014
pressuritarian hospital have to look up what the hospital was in Charlotte
North Carolina I owe this woman a big hug and thank you obviously but honestly
a lot of questions too I had chosen to sleep over at the hospital you couldn't
take me away I didn't know if I had days months hours minutes I was glued to
a side and so I'm alone in the hospital overnight there's beeping
machines there's nurses coming in and out this is to my knowledge my first
experience for the hospital it definitely this intimately I'm not sleeping I'm
not well as expected yeah I'm not crying which was very intentional I think I
had this again I'm a teenager at this moment but I had this feeling that
strength was contagious and if I was strong and I held on to hope and I didn't
accept what seemed inevitable it would change things in some way yeah and
yeah I think I look back on that a lot and I I wonder where I got that from but
I am I am holding it all together I'm smiling through it all I'm holding his
hand I'm like picking out what he wants to eat I'm I'm there I'm in it and it
was overnight I couldn't sleep and this nurse came in and she looked at me and
looked at him she's like is that your dad you know it's like yeah and I can't
remember how the conversation happened but ended up being like over an hour I
remember she sat on one side hospital bed I sat on the other and she was
holding my hands and she was answering all of my questions I think I didn't
feel like I could ask any questions because I had no idea what was going on
and obviously had no experience with a situation like life at that point and it
was just so comforting that I didn't feel like there was any stupid
question like he was not really awake at that point I remember being like you
know I was talking to him while and I was like can you hear me yeah and she was
like you know typically hearings the last thing to go obviously we don't know
but like I think so and like what a what a sweet sweet thing to say and then all
these beeps and numbers and things would get lower higher drop red and I was
like obviously wanted him to be as comfortable and safe as possible and I
didn't know I do what all of these machines and numbers and things meant or you
know nobody had told me what was happening yeah and what beep is for what yeah
and she was so gracious and explained everything it's just like when this
number is below this this is what it typically means like hear things that you
know can help that hear things that kind of push that towards that way and
it was so empowering and in a situation where I had absolutely no control and
was so helpless and obviously all I wanted was to just save him but the
second thing was just like an ounce of control in the situation she gave me
that and like I could see those numbers and you know call a nurse and ask for
what I need or like felt like I could make it easier like take some kind of
like burden off maybe and I can't imagine going through that situation
without that moment like it was such a turning point and such a way of like
she almost carried some of that grief for me like it was lighter after that
conversation and a complete stranger who I'm sure had like many patients she
needed to attend to and she sees us stay in and day out and I'll never forget
what just like an incredible kindness that was and I think about it a lot when
I cross other people's paths in that moment as much as I think it's human and
stink that you just are like the solution to the problem is to take the pain
away that that's how we fix it in all of my experience with grief it's like
the best thing you can do is just sit in it with someone and let them feel
everything that again at that point I hadn't allowed myself to feel because I
was grasping it straw as a control the situation if I'm like why don't cry
this isn't a sad situation it's gonna have a happy ending it didn't quite
regard that way so all of the things that happened after and it's so funny I
think about grief so much as after which in the sense of that word is both an
ending but also a beginning yeah that's always really resonated with me and I
remember back to that what happens next moment of leaving my dad behind and
walking out of the hospital and just seeing everybody pass me and acting
normal and people are doing their jobs and I don't know how to drive home I
don't know why I'm driving home homes never gonna be home again and I'm a
teenager at this point and I'm like this is the rest of my life how how do you
navigate from there yeah and I another thing that changed the way I looked at
everything when I was going home from the hospital I had been asked to like pick up
some stuff at the grocery store so I went to the grocery store that whatever I
needed and when I got out got to the checkout line I remember there were no
self-checkouts I guess it was so later something they were closed and I had to
see a person and I was like I can't how is the weather right now like I don't
have it in me and again I don't know where this came from but I remember this
feeling of clearly this was a bad day for me and I didn't want to put that
in anyone else and I felt like you could just see this rain cloud above me and
it was just this darkness that I didn't want anyone else to feel this way and
it was just so strange and I remember this cashier was like so peppy and so
sweet and I was like I can get through 30 seconds up just like it's good and I'm
sure in trying to be normal I was like way over the top over compensating smiling
and laughing being like yeah oh my gosh yes oh yeah I got you know family
over that's what all these grocery store for and I'll never forget at the end
she looked at me and she was like how does it feel to be the happiest girl in the
world no way yeah and I quite literally looked at her and I was like you have no
idea anything about that all the time if you know somebody that's in my life
that I have kind of a baseline for all of a sudden is really happy I'm like
are you good yeah I'm so happy everything's going great as are you convincing me
are you both of us I can hug you it's okay it's okay and it's funny I like that
something that definitely grief gave me a radar for that I don't think I had
any awareness of before but it's strange I mean I went home and did homework
because that was what I had to do and I think when I look back on that over a
decade later it's so funny because nobody tells you how to grief or even that
it's something to
do. It's just kind of like this happened and now you get back to life. And I wish looking
back like if there's one thing I would change is just that I would have given myself permission
to just feel it all. Which brings us to another thing you know pretty intimately of this wonderful
podcast with these wonderful stories we're sharing is sponsored by a company that I'm launching
in about a month called CintiKits, which starts with a grief kit that Liana, wonderful, beautiful,
kind, talented licensed therapist helped me put together a grief kit, which is quite literally
the thing I wish I had in that moment that helps you process grief in a way that there's
similarities with grief sure it's a very steady thing we can talk about the five stages
we can talk about different ways that manifests in your life. But it's also deeply personal.
No one's two experiences are the same. I relate heavily to the dead parents club but also
learn something new every time we have a new member. And it was really fun and fulfilling
to be able to put together this thing that one helped me understand and process my grief
over a calculator for sure. And two, just feel like somebody else who is in that situation,
it brings me such a sense of peace to be able to provide that. And I remember when the
funeral and the visitation and everything that was happening people sent so many flowers
that were so beautiful and as flowers do, they died fairly quickly and my head was just
spinning feeling like everything around me was dying. And it's just a different option.
If you're looking to show up for somebody in that moment or you're also still processing
grief years later, obviously it's not something that can replace therapy but I do think it's
as good as flowers. I'm really excited that we brought that to life and I'm ready for
it to be out in the world and in a month you'll I'm sure hear more about it than you want
to. But again, another thing that obviously that touched my life so deeply that this
company grew out of that and losing my dad at 19 is you know, being a career pivot for
me in my 30s, I think it's I never ever knew that grief was like a lifelong thing. And
thank God, because if you would have told me that in the moment, I think I would have
been overwhelmed. And I think it's not necessarily a bad thing. That's not the right words, but
I think about it all the time of some of the best parts of me came out of my hardest moments.
And I'm grateful for them. Obviously, if there's somebody who has a time machine and I could
have those moments and differently, I would every day of the week, but nobody's figured
that one out yet. So I do what I can with it. And I think about how differently I've
carried grief over these years. And like now grief probably shows up in my life mostly
as humor. Of course. Although I did laugh at my dad's funeral when I spoke. So maybe
that was also immediate too. I remember that I remember being up there at the podium,
giving my speech I guess. And I just saw all these people who had been in my life for
my entire life crying. And I just started laughing because I was like, this is so strange.
What a weird thing that's happening now. But I do think there's an element of humor can
be a defense mechanism. But humor can also 100% be coping. And I think about it of I was
a therapy years and years and years later. And first session, as we're wrapping up and
ending, the last thing she asked me is, do you think you've ever grieved your father's
death? And I was like, did jokes count? And I was like, then now, and I remember like
just crying. I was like, my mind said yes, but my body said no. And how strange a decade
later of I think about it all the time. Like I'm still learning how to miss him. And again,
in that moment, nobody tells you that it changes your whole life forever. And I think one
thing that's again, I hate to say silver linings. I'm a big fan of, but also there is nothing
that frustrates me more than something being like, Oh, look at this wonderful thing that
have me because your dad died you lucky girl. And I'm like, I would trade them. Any, you
know, there's never a situation where I obviously wouldn't trade them. But when I'm getting
back to life, at this point, my threshold for a problem is death. Like anything below
that just did it register for me. I couldn't care less. Like in a sense that gave me a freedom
almost. Like I remember after college, I went and lived in New Zealand. And an aspect of
that was early on in the grieving process. I remember really being drawn to places new
or that like my dad would never be because like there wasn't lost there. If I went home
and I walked around the corner to his office, there's always this feeling of expecting
to see him. But when I went to New Zealand, I hadn't been there. There was no reason he
would be there. And so grief wouldn't be there either. Didn't quite work out that way.
But there is an element of, I hopped on a plane by myself and went 9,000 miles away. And
I don't, I don't know if I would have done that without that having, you know, the notion
of like what's the worst thing that can happen? Death. Are you figured that out? So, yeah.
Sorry, happened. And a lot of beautiful memories in my life came from that. And I think now
being removed from it, it's not as fresh obviously. But I think about that a lot if there's
something that feels like my sky is falling. And like if somebody I loved died tomorrow,
what I care. What does that mean? And the answer is always 100% now. And yeah, I mean,
it's funny. I think about that one time, I do remember my dad gave me this whole speech
because I ran away from home at 14 and was like, we do not. Where were you going? God knows.
On hats away. I had, no, that's another funny story. Yeah, I had packed a suitcase with
seven water bottles in a Bible because that's all I was going to need. The only two threats
I faced were either lack of faith or dehydration. I was covered. But I remember I didn't make
it out of the neighborhood. A lot of bottles. Yeah. I think that was, I think that was just
the, I think that was all the water bottles at my disposal because we had just learned
in science class. It was like dehydration. That's what's going to, that's a silent killer
going to get you quick. And I was like, God it, say less. But I remember after that step,
my dad was like, we do not run away from our problems, which is kind of funny because,
you know, the furthest thing away from life is death. So I would argue he ran away from
his problem is in us. And 9,000 miles away to New Zealand like you went and died and missed
my best friend yet. Like I got better and better through life. I don't know why that just
came to my mind. But yeah, it's funny. I think there's such a, I remember some days I
would be like, if I can't soften grief, like grief soften me and just try to walk through
life in a way that honored him. And I think a lot of things I remember, like very early
on in grief that I wish I would have known are totally normal is, is comforting as it was
to be there for his final moments and like had been fully present and kind of had somewhat
of a sense of peace of like knowing there was nothing more I could do. Yeah. For the first
few weeks, it was like every time I went to sleep, it was just hospital beeping in machines.
And like I just like couldn't get that out of my head. And I think also I'd been there
so much for his final days. I struggled a little bit to like reconnected memories before
because like those were so powerful and pervasive. And I remember him.
Again, there was, I remember, when my dad died, literally like, time of death declared,
writing that moment, the first thing someone said to me was, he would have been so proud
of you.
And it was like the first time somebody spoke in past tense and it was just such a gut punch.
And I remember, it's like you're in a fog sort of, of like, I'm just kind of existing.
And I just had just this thought of life broke, like life really got it wrong, something
is broken.
And I'm just going to like, turn it off and turn it back on.
We said it.
Yeah, like I'm just going to go to sleep and when I wake up, it's going to reset.
The world can be back to balance.
Like, I obviously couldn't process it.
And so my brain was just like, nope.
I was just like walked out of the hospital, didn't shed a single tear and I was like, that
didn't happen.
Nope.
And I remember, I would be so excited to go to sleep, so I'd be like, we're going to wake
up.
It's just going to be a bad dream.
And then it was a couple nights when that didn't happen.
I moved on to a lot of just like, can I make a deal with God?
Like, he got it wrong, like, what can I give him to get this back?
And then I think there was also a lot of people who met really well were like, everything
happens for a reason, like you're so strong, you're so courageous.
And I was like, did this have to happen to me for like me to have a life path or something
I meant for?
Like, I kind of tried to lean into that, but that felt really wrong.
Like I never, I never could make peace with this was supposed to happen, or this was
always going to happen.
Yeah.
I think there are even still times today where I'm like, it shouldn't have.
I think there's always a part of me that believes, of course, something different could
have happened if it were the right doctors or the right treatment, or, you know, I don't
know, like there always should have been a different outcome, but this is what happened.
And again, until I figured out, this is always what happened for the rest of my life.
And you kind of just have to find a way to coexist with that fact, which obviously gets
easier as time moves on.
But when my bargaining didn't work, when I had to like finally accept it was real, I think
I always was drawn to movies and TV shows when a character passes.
They're literally come back to life and sitting on a couch and you're having conversation
with them.
They're in your dreams telling you that one thing of life advice you need in the moment.
And I would go to bed and like, think about my dad.
Think about my favorite parts of my dad.
Think about things I wish I had my dad's advice on.
And I would just try to like, will my dreams into existence?
And I never had that experience.
I know a lot of people talk about that, and I'm obviously loved that for them, but also
very wish I could have that for myself.
The only dreams I ever had still to this day, and it still happens.
It happened really often at the beginning, but it more sporadically towards the end.
Is I would go to sleep?
And my dad would just like reappear in life and be like, you're so silly, I didn't die.
Why did you tell people that?
And I would be like, dad, we had a funeral and everything like we really made a big show
about this, it's going to be tough to walk back, like stoked to have you back, happy to
do it.
But this press conference is not going to look good.
And it was so vivid, and I remember it was always, I didn't die.
And I had to explain to people how like, just kidding, he didn't die.
He's been here the whole time.
And then I would wake up and just be all out of sorts of like, what?
Because it would always feel so real.
And it was so strange because there was an element of, I don't know, when people talk
about that, it's like, they're still here with you.
They can give me advice on a version of me that he's never met in theirs.
It's like comfort in theirs is peace.
And as much as I wanted to have him in my dreams, I started like really trying to avoid
it.
Because when those situations would happen, every time I would wake up and it was like,
I lost them all over again.
And I was like, I felt it in my whole body of like, where's your back?
I'm still here.
And I think for a long time, I, like I said early on in the group journey, avoided things
that would remind me of him.
And then like, there are things of like, I still to this day, somebody like looks similar,
sounds similar, smells similar, and my whole body will stop.
Like I think my brain, maybe you can explain this from a therapy standpoint, but I don't
think my brain is ever going to stop looking for him.
You know, like there's still an element of where you go, I'm going to find him and I don't
realize that because obviously I've lived my life in this reality for so long, but it's
funny.
Like things will still catch me to this day.
And I remember asking for some sign that he's going to say.
That he was okay or at peace, like when grief was really heavy, just like, give me something.
I've heard everybody else's stories like, where are you at?
And the closest thing I ever had to that was years after he passed, it took me very
long time.
My dad's cremated, but he's still like in a, like column in a graveyard, I guess, for
lack of a better word.
So years later, I had never been, I had never been in that graveyard.
I went years later for the first time, classic.
I drove, I got there and I was like, about to pull in and I was like, nope, and I dropped
it.
No, it's in it.
Yeah.
I was like, not quite.
And I turned around and then I drove back in and I parked my car and it's just another
thing.
It's like, how do you do this?
So I'm just going to walk out there and talk to him.
Like, am I going to like finally feel him there where I've been looking everywhere?
I don't know.
Once I actually got there, I was like, what do I do?
How does this work?
And I got out of my car.
I walked out there and like, I immediately went back in my car because I was like, I
know, I think there's a part of me where it's like if I, I didn't want to feel him there
because it was quite literally a graveyard.
Like, it was about death.
And I think that was the last thing I wanted to do associated with him and I think that
feeling came up with what if this is the only place I feel in and I, I don't know if I
can really articulate it, but I was very turned off by that.
So I went back in my car and at the time and still to this day, I always have Pandora
string me in my car and I went back into my car and my Pandora started right left off
and then it kind of like weirdly glitched and then the song came on and I would see if
I could remember.
I think it's called, well, to fact, I check this, but I think it's called when I looked
to the sky by train, had never heard that song before, won't clue into my listening preferences
but did not belong on that station and I haven't heard the song in so long, but I remember
the lyrics were like, when I look to the sky, something tells me you're here with me and
like everything's going to be okay.
When I feel like I'm lost, like something tells me you're near.
And classic me, I guess, I asked me a verse for a sign, it gives me, and I said, nope,
I skipped it.
Because I was just really eerie, I was like, yeah, it just freaked me out and I skipped
it.
Yeah.
And it, which is never half of me before.
And you're doing the right part of that.
I think so.
And I was like, okay, it has started from getting, and I listened to it.
And again, for a moment it was comforting and then I think I just got really emotionally
overwhelmed.
So I changed the station and it played again.
No.
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
And so I finally was like, okay, I'll listen to this song.
And I have never heard that song before or after.
I look at it.
Yeah, I know I should play it for you.
But I think about that a lot of, okay, like I'll take this, I think, in, you know, wanting
to have his advice and his presence and his energy and to just like feel him with me
I would get so frustrated and it would almost make grief heavier when I couldn't.
And I think that was a shift for me of like, well maybe I need to do more things I feel
like him.
He's not asking for his energy, but more like putting it out there.
If that makes sense, of like my dad was an entrepreneur, my dad was, listen, all my dad
dad jokes that read people wrong, I got them honestly.
He had a very particular sense of humor, you know, he lived a multifaceted life and I just
leaned into all of those things and that brought me a lot of peace. I think
about that a lot with so many people have these beautiful stories of like signs and miracles and
I always felt like, you know, why not me? But I think also when you're like having to sign or
a miracle. Why can he come to my dream and tell me exactly what I needed to hear? That's how it
works on the movies. Yeah. Why didn't I see him somewhere out in the present? Like I don't know,
all these beautiful stories you hear and yeah, it's funny. I guess, again in grief, so not linear,
but it just reminded me of when I was at the hospital with a nurse and she explained things. I
talked to my dad all night and I wanted nothing more and I don't think I've ever wanted anything
more in life than some sort of assurance that he heard me. Yeah. That morning when I finally
went to sleep, my mom had come back in the hospital and I woke up and she was like, good morning.
Your dad's been reaching for you all morning and he hadn't really moved or been alert or anything
for a while at that point and when I turned around from, I think the windowsill at the hospital,
I was sleeping on. He's like out of his hospital bed literally like reaching diagonally towards me
and I were just like, that'll do. That'll do. If every life gets one big ask and that's mine,
that'll do. I think about that a lot of like, there's still nothing I've ever
wanted more than I would trade for that. And again, this, it's funny and all the stories about
grief. I've read or seen these like little things that really shaped my grief journey.
You know, I don't, I don't feel like I have ever seen before. Of that moment
really gave me a lot of peace and that when I was looking for signs or his presence and it felt
empty, I was like, I had it already and I just kind of had to make peace with that. And I think
it changed my whole life and perspective in little ways and big ways, but also
like light found its way back to me. And in that dark situation and in the other one,
which is funny, I feel like with the other one, right when it happened, just to be totally honest,
I remember like shouting to this guy and be like, God, we had a deal. But the worst thing that
was going to happen to me already happened, this is bullshit. Like what is this? We had a deal.
But I also like to say that trauma's like yoga, not a competitive sport. So there's no hierarchy
of marriages. Things have changed my life. But I think back on something that always stuck with me
as the first time I had like a deep belly laugh after grief. And it felt so wrong. Like it felt so
wrong to laugh after something like that had happened. But then it felt so wrong, not too.
Like you're telling me for the rest of my life, I don't deserve joy again. And that would honor
my dad. Like that didn't make sense to me. I think there was an innate feeling of that for a while.
But that didn't make sense to me. And I think it's so different when your grief is fresh and
you're in the moment versus when it's like processed in years later. But when I think back now,
well over a decade of how that changed my life and changed me and changed my perspective,
I think about how my life is so much bigger, fuller, brighter, not despite my loss. But because of
it, I love people harder. I'm more present. I am not afraid. I'm still afraid because I'm human. But
there is a good run where I was like, my dad died, my arms. What do you think I'm scared of?
Do you think I'm worried if you don't like me? I'm not. I'm really not. But then life happens,
you know, the threshold of if it's not death, it's not a problem. Eventually, life problems still
catch up and it's all the same. But I think there's always something really connected about life
and all this shared experience we're all having where when somebody experiences loss, like
I hold them differently. I hold them in a way I would have never ever known how to how to not
walk it. And I think with these kids we're making, it's like how do we curate that for someone
to give them permission to feel, to actually help them understand what happens. Like, I'm sure if
we sat here long enough, I would think of so many things in grief where like I was crazy and I was
losing my mind and you know, it was completely normal. The first step would have been to give
permission to feel like it's okay to feel all the sadness and the loss. Yeah. How
true to what happens next, like there's a lot of life ahead. And there's a lot of good ahead.
And again, there's nothing there's no scenario where I wouldn't trade everything to have my dad
back. But I also live a very happy and fulfilled life. And I wish that like me spiraling at 19
could see that because I couldn't. I couldn't imagine. And I'm excited to hear a lot of people's
stories on how that looks from things I've never walked through. Yeah. And if you're all listening
this and being like, "Why didn't Leanna say anything?" I promised her that I was going to do all
the talking. This was supposed to be a solo episode. But again, I talked to myself enough. I
needed at least someone to bounce off of. But hopefully she'll come back and do a Q&A. Maybe we'll
do like an ask a therapist because she is incredibly insightful and wise. And I also hope we can hear
more of her voice soon. We'll wrap it up there. Thanks for listening to my story. And this is the
most you're ever going to hear me talk. I started a podcast to listen. So I hope you enjoyed the
sound of my voice. You will hear it much less from your own out.
Podcast Summary
Key Points:
The podcast's concept is exploring "what happens next" after life-altering events, focusing on the moments after a crisis rather than the event itself.
The host shares her personal story of losing her father at age 19, detailing the emotional and practical challenges of that experience.
A key moment was a compassionate nurse who explained hospital machines and provided comfort, giving the host a sense of control in a helpless situation.
The host reflects on the strange contrast between personal turmoil and the world continuing normally, a feeling she first experienced after her father's death.
Grief is portrayed as a lifelong, non-linear process, with the host noting how humor became a coping mechanism over time.
The host discusses her search for signs from her father, including a meaningful dream and a coincidental song, which brought her peace.
The episode introduces "CintiKits," a grief kit company the host is launching, designed to help others process grief in a tangible way.
The host emphasizes that grief can lead to personal growth, making life "bigger, fuller, brighter" not despite loss, but because of it.
Summary:
In this inaugural episode of "What Happens Next," the host introduces the podcast's core theme: exploring the moments after life-shattering events, when the world feels surreal and one must figure out how to move forward. She is joined by her friend Leanna, a licensed therapist, though the host does most of the talking. The host shares her deeply personal story of losing her father when she was 19, recounting the frantic drive to the hospital, the emotional goodbye over the phone, and the surreal experience of seeing life continue normally outside while her world fell apart.
A pivotal moment was a compassionate nurse who sat with her overnight, explaining the hospital machines and answering her questions, providing an ounce of control and comfort in a helpless situation. The host reflects on the challenges of grief, including avoiding reminders, bargaining with God, and struggling to find signs from her father. She eventually finds peace in a memory of her father reaching for her in the hospital and a coincidental song that felt like a message.
The episode also introduces "CintiKits," a grief kit company she is launching to help others process loss, emphasizing that grief is personal and lifelong but can lead to growth and a fuller life.
FAQs
The podcast explores the moments after life-shattering events, focusing on how people navigate their lives after a major change or loss. It was born from the host's personal experiences and her interest in hearing others' stories of what happens next.
The host was inspired by her own experiences of grief, particularly losing her father, and the disconnect she felt seeing life continue normally after such a devastating event. She also felt that movies and TV shows often glossed over the 'what happens next' part, which she found more compelling.
CintiKits is a company launched by the host that starts with a grief kit. It was created to help people process grief in a personal way, providing tools and resources that the host wishes she had when she was grieving.
The host's father died in a hospital while she was in college. She received a call saying she needed to say goodbye, and she drove home at high speed but arrived just in time to hold his hand before he passed.
A nurse at the hospital spent over an hour with the host, explaining the machines and answering her questions. This provided the host with a sense of control and comfort during a helpless situation, and it left a lasting impact on her.
The host's grief gave her a new threshold for problems, making her less afraid of everyday challenges. It also made her love harder, be more present, and feel more connected to others who have experienced loss.
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