Meghan Montague
Loss of husband, Rich, to sudden cardiac arrest
Hi Meghan! Tell us, what’s your story?
I’m Meghan Montague, I turned 50 on June 6th, from Bel Air, MD. I was born and raised here with my three older sisters. So, my late husband and I decided to raise our 3 girls here, as well. Our girls are Ruthie, 16, and twins Eleanor and Andie, 15. Also, we are surrounded and supported by aunts, uncles, and cousins. I have been an ELL teacher for the past 25 years and hope to retire in about 5 years. My interests include tennis, photography, movies, music, travel, walking my dog Henry and spending time with family and friends.
What was life like before the loss of your husband, Rich?
Before Rich passed away, we were leading a pretty normal life. Our girls were the center (and still remain) of our lives. We had struggles in our marriage and worked hard to communicate and find the balance. It was not easy. We loved and made the time to nurture our relationship and those relationships with our girls. One of our daughters struggles with anxiety and a mood disorder. We were in year 2 of the pandemic when Rich passed away suddenly in our bed.
You shared with me that Rich died unexpectedly. Can you share what happened?
On March 15, 2021, we woke up like any other Monday. I asked Rich to move his truck so I could go to work. He arrived late the night before because he and our lab, Henry, spent the day on the river fly-fishing. I made coffee and took him a cup in bed. He often lay in bed to read in the mornings (he was an avid reader) and I kissed him goodbye and said “I love you.” Our girls were home learning virtually and I got a call about 2:30pm from Ruthie screaming, ”Mommy, Daddy will not wake up!!!!!”
I was about 10 minutes from home and rushed to make a few calls to my sister, Erin, and nephew Lucas. I was at the 4-way stop around the corner from our house and my neighbor called me.
I knew right then that my life would be different moving forward.
All of my girls saw their dad’s lifeless body in our bed. Eleanor tried to resuscitate him. (She recently was taking Health at school and asked me to excuse her from the CPR portion of the course. Duh. It was a trigger for her. That was an easy email to send. "Pardon me, please allow my daughter to refrain from the CPR portion of your course because she failed to save her dad's life last year!”) UGGGGGHHH!!!!!! We are not fine.
Rich had a history of hypertension/heart issues and had a stent put in in March 2019. He took daily meds to help with his heart issue. He was also walking 4-5 miles a day...SO glad he did that ..it was so helpful!! Not.
He was 52 years old and we had so much more to do together as a couple and as a family!!
How did you cope in the early days?
I honestly don’t know how I coped. I did have “battle buddies” - a phrase I learned from a fellow widow, Tanya in the early days. My friends Katie and Rachael helped me plan the funeral. My sister, Erin, and her family provided us with a home for the first few days (the trauma of sleeping in the house/bed that he died in lasted weeks). My sisters, Kelly and Kerry provided distractions for our girls. My nieces and nephews were present with hugs when needed & Tik Tok dances! My friend Christy made me eat and she brought wine. YES!! My husband's college fraternity brother, Keith wrote the obituary. I saw no end to the shock and the numbness. I woke up every day those first days and weeks and I relived the nightmare. Again, and again. I still think, daily, “WTF?”
What was a specific low point or struggle you experienced?
The specific lows included not wanting to get up out of bed those first few weeks. My daughter Eleanor went to school the day after Rich died. She craved normalcy and escaped the sadness at home. I did get up out of bed for my girls and going back to work after a month provided me a solid distraction from laying around. The lows continue to come in waves. Ruthie, my 16-year-old recently got her license. It hit her like a ton of bricks the day she got her license and that her dad was missing this milestone. Struggling to grieve myself and simultaneously provide the support for my girl's sucks!
How to find Joy in low moments?
We are steadily finding joy in the low moments. We traveled a lot as a family of 5. From the beginning, we have continued that tradition. Last summer we spent a few weeks in Maine. We spent our first Christmas without Rich in Punta Cana. For Rich’s death anniversary we traveled to Vermont to ski and honor his memory.
This summer we plan to go to Chicago to see the Red Sox play at Wrigley. Rich was a huge Red Sox fan and we have been to several ball parks in the US/Canada to see the Red Sox play. I continue to let the girls lead me in finding the small joys in daily life, as well. They are resilient and we remind each other that this is not a sprint but a long ass marathon. And it sucks.
How has this loss affected your three daughters? How have they been coping?
Rich dying in the middle of a pandemic sucks. The girls are each coping differently. Ruthie has struggled academically at school (COVID/virtual learning was awful), but she remains successful & motivated at her part-time job at a local brewery/restaurant. She has been seeing a therapist in person for over a year and she loves to go. Eleanor already had a therapist and was medicated for her GAD. She has made a lot of new friends and is thriving in school. Andie and I both saw someone early on virtually, but she craves live sessions, and I am still struggling to find one for her. Andie has also had an amazing school year and is surrounded by wonderful friends. I guess they are coping as well as expected. Last week we had a conversation with Ruthie’s BFF, Kaylee in the car. Kaylee lost her mother 4 years ago to cancer so she is super thoughtful and insightful. The car is a wonderful time to chat and listen to teenagers.
How has your loss changed you?
I still struggle to articulate how the loss has changed me. My initial reaction is that I am more cynical than I was before. I am also more grateful for time and experiences. Rich and I had a wonderful story. We had 20 years together and we created this beautiful life, and we built a family that I am proud of. He was an amazing dad and husband.
What do you want others to know about grief?
Grief does not expire at year one. There is nothing magical about surviving or hitting that milestone. Grief is multifaceted and there is no timeline.
If anything, year 2 is proving to suck a lot more than year one. I am a little less shocked, a little less numb. But we are struggling each day to move forward and honor Rich’s memory and life. I want people to ask about me and how I am doing and tell stories to me about Rich but especially to my girls.
Grief is relentless.
I feel lost and so alone. The one person I need is gone and Rich would be present and thoughtful in these challenges that I am facing.
How can a person best be there to support a loved one who is grieving?
Be available and present. Just show up. Talk about Rich, Tell me stories that bring us to belly laughs or make us cry with pure joy.
Ask for help and lean on those with similar experiences. Do not compare losses.
If you could go back and spend one more day with Rich, what would you do?
Take a long walk with him and enjoy a meal as a family. These are the things I miss. The simple day-to-day. Not the holidays, birthdays, etc... The simple mundane days.
Any resources that were helpful for you that others might be able to utilize?
Some podcasts that I have found helpful are:
What brings you joy now?
Simple things bring me joy. Ruthie loves to read just like her dad and she is beginning to hoard books, just like he did. Eleanor played tennis on the tennis team at school and has made a few new friends. Andie did cross country and track and field this year and she was amazing. The simple daily joys include my girls giggling over a tik tok or sharing a funny story about a teacher at school. Also, I find my work with elementary students gives me such joy and pride. The innocence of young children is pure JOY. And a simple walk with my dog, Henry each morning. He greets and wags as the kids depart for school or neighbors head out to work.
Anything else you’d like readers to know?
Grief is personal and its yours. Own it and do the best you can. Give yourself a break.
Grief is exhausting.
Talking about Rich isn’t going to make the girls and I sadder. We want to hear the stories and share his memory, so we don’t forget.