What Happened After My Husband Passed Away 5 Years Ago

Today marks 5 years since my husband, my son’s father, passed away. In his honor, I wanted to share this piece of my book, How To Fall In Sh*t And Come Out Smelling Like A Rose.

Around 11:00 p.m. on April 3, 2020, I received the knock on my door that is everyone’s worst nightmare.

Jupiter Police Department: “Are you Kelly Linhoss?”

Me (I knew what they were about to say): “Yes.”

JPD: “The Kelly Linhoss that’s married to Charles Linhoss.”

Me: “Yes.”

JPD: (Comes in) “You should sit down. Unfortunately, he passed away today.”

Charles and I had both been very broken when we’d met, and we’d quickly become each other’s people. We were very codependent. The marriage was toxic and difficult, and we both did things that I’m not proud of. But I made it. Unfortunately, he did not. So, what I did from that moment on was entirely on me. When I received the news, I knew I would have to stop drinking and begin the long journey back to myself. I didn’t want to do it for myself then, but I did it for Dylan.

Charles was a wonderful man when he was sober, but he had so many demons that I tried to fight with him for over a decade. And he’s not the only one I’ve lost over the past 20 years. Regardless of how we lose people we love, I believe it all goes back to how they’re handling the weight of the world on their shoulders. It’s too easy to get distracted while working on yourself, and it’s hard work.

If you’re in your 40s or 50s, you were raised in the Matrix—raised to think that really having it all is working from nine to five and then going to the bar and forgetting all of your problems after work. That is just a vicious cycle, and nobody wins. The Matrix killed my husband.

In 2020, I was taking Uncle Kracker’s song “No Time To Be Sober” very seriously. My husband had just drunk himself to death, which was something I had only heard of until then and never fully grasped. My intentions were not to black out, but I had no other coping tools. I didn’t need to drive anywhere; the gyms were closed, but all the liquor stores had no problem extending their hours during COVID. Instacart could deliver alcohol as early as 7:00 a.m. This was not good for me.

White Claw became my thing—it felt safer than wine or vodka, and I did have a business to run and a child to take care of all by myself, after all. I just needed something to take the edge off all the stress that comes with losing a spouse. There was so much paperwork and so many bills and new responsibilities I would have to take on now without Charles. I was always good at making money, but paying bills and balancing the budget were things the lawyer in the family was more inclined to take care of.

For someone with achalasia, drinking and smoking aren’t recommended, as the wrong things going down my esophagus will damage it further. And I can feel it once my body doesn’t like something I ate or drank. It starts out feeling like acid reflux, always in the middle of the night. Because I can’t physically throw up, if it gets really bad, it becomes a dry-heaving episode throughout the night.

The Claw really exacerbated this misery, and while staring at my puffy face in the bathroom mirror at 3:00 a.m., I realized I was only lying to myself at this point. “Happy hour” started to come earlier and earlier—3:00 p.m., 1:00 p.m., 11:00 a.m., 9:00 a.m. I had run my drinking career into the ground, and it was no longer fun. I was acting like one of my dad’s retired buddies who drinks a case of beer every day. Eventually, I would need to drive and work out again. I started to feel that something bad could happen, and it was really time to face the shit now, before it took me out, too.

I put my plans to quit drinking on hold until after my 40th birthday; after all I had gone through, I deserved one last hurrah. When we returned, I called Lisa to come over with her husband, Nate, who is a probation officer. I needed to hear the hard truth, and they were going to give it to me straight.

Nate was very calm and precise as he drew an imaginary diagram on my kitchen table. He asked me to imagine a line and a black box next to me on one side of the line. Then he said that I could continue the way I had been going, which was to drink until something bad happened that forced me to attempt to moderate my drinking and kind of dance around the black box. But eventually, I would end up right back here, with potentially worse problems to solve. This reminded me of the “elephant in the room” that my therapist had spoken of my family ignoring throughout my childhood.

Or I could decide to face the black box and see what was in it. Then I would be able to cross the line completely and never look back. He finished by saying, “Don’t ignore the black box.” Yikes, this seemed intense. I wanted to celebrate KOPR’s tenth anniversary with Magellan Jets, friends, and family in Newport in the summer of 2021. That would be my last hurrah.

By the grace of God, once Dylan and I arrived on Nantucket, I decided it was time for me to stop drinking. We were at a restaurant, and I was told that it would be a two-hour wait for a table. This was fine with me because I could drink at the bar while I was waiting, just like when I was a little girl with my parents.

But then I realized—this wasn’t fun for Dylan. And I was not going to repeat the cycle of my childhood all over again. It was just me and Dylan. I could choose to be sad about that and ignore reality through drinking, working, and pretending all the time, sure. But that wouldn’t be fair to Dylan—or to me, really.

So, I decided to flip the script for my family. I decided to see things differently. I chose to focus on what I had rather than what I lacked. I’d wanted a child my whole life. I wasn’t going to drink myself through this next decade with him at home. Our time with our children under our wings is not forever; it’s only for a season. It goes so fast, and unless we’re really in it and fully present, we will miss it terribly when it’s over.

I decided that our “happy hours” would be just that—happy, free, and unscripted. I wouldn’t spend the whole day worrying about what I would cook for dinner for me and a 5-year-old boy. That’s not why we’re here. We would eat when we were hungry, sleep when we were tired; there would be no “rules” in that respect. We were free to be. Maybe that’s what I always wanted anyway.

I thought it was a good time to reconnect with my inner child, bring her out to play with Dylan, and meet him at every age with the childlike parts of me that were hidden behind trauma for so long, re-parent myself, find myself again. Reconnect with the girl I was before society programmed me, before Cliff broke my heart, and before I created this mask.

“If Dylan is only going to have a mother, then he is going to get the very best version of me. My highest self will rise now.”

Between the hotel and the children’s beach, we found an adorable liquor store with a Goldendoodle. It sold local craft-made seltzers similar to White Claw, and I began to detox from booze during our vacation—each day consuming half the amount of seltzers than the day before and more water and food. I felt pretty bad at first and thought I might need to check in to rehab when I got back to Florida. I called a friend who works at Futures Recovery Healthcare, my parents, and Charles’s parents, so everyone was prepared.

But that wasn’t necessary. Trust me, I had wanted to go to rehab so badly for the past two decades. Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan had made Promises Malibu look like a luxury retreat in the early 2000s. I was envious every single time Charles got to go unplug for 30 days. I could never do that because I owned a business, all by myself.

There were no sick days, no maternity leave, no bereavement, and definitely no pay for rehab with Magellan. And I could never afford to lose them—or my other clients, for that matter. Then I had Dylan, and there was no way I would spend more than a couple of nights away from him, definitely not 30.

We came home from ACK, and after a dramatic break-up speech, I drank my last alcoholic drink on August 1, 2021. I was 40 years old. Charles was in the kitchen with me at that very moment. Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together” randomly came on Alexa immediately after my last sip, and that made me giggle.

The more I forgive Charles, the more I heal, and the more I can feel him with me every day. And I’m teaching Dylan how to find him in meditation as he supports us from another realm.

I’ve never looked back, not once. I haven’t even thought about it beyond how bad it would make me feel and the havoc it would wreak on my life. I’m completely free from that poison. Thank God.

If you know of a child whose parent was not able to do this, please visit A Place of Hope at https://www.placeofhope.com/.

Dylan started kindergarten ten days later. He also played football that year, which is pretty intense in the South, so that got me out of the house and my brain away from booze for those crucial first few months. I joined a few online AA meetings, read a bunch of quit lit, and eventually found Sober Sis and Self Healers with Dr. Nicole LePera, author of How To Do The Work. She made more sense to me than any therapist in the past, and she was the catalyst to me finally doing the work on me that had needed to be done for so long.

Then I found CBD, which turned me on to medical marijuana. That was the key that unlocked my healing and finally calmed my central nervous system enough to feel it all. When I was drinking, I was also taking about ten aspirin a day, on Lexapro for anxiety, and vaping nicotine. The marijuana helped me calm my central nervous system enough to sit still and start to feel and heal.

Today, I’m proud to say that I don’t drink alcohol; I drink marijuana. I take no prescription meds, not even Lexapro, and I don’t smoke nicotine. I haven’t even had aspirin in close to four years. I swapped caffeine for mushrooms, I eat plant-based, and I have not had so much as a cold since 2021. I don’t do cardio anymore, only EMS training, yoga, and Pilates because I like how it makes me feel.

Teacher: “Dylan, who is your favorite superhero?”

Dylan: “My mom.”

I experienced a rebirth here in Jupiter, Florida, in the first home I bought for myself, in the town in which I first planted seeds 20 years ago. My happy place. Some people called to me while I was still up north, scrolling through the #JUPlife with every hope and prayer I could muster amidst chaos, crisis, and serious trauma.

Jupiter represents a quest for meaning and joy. Jupiter rules Sagittarius and stands for truth, adventure, meaning, and higher learning.

Unknowingly, these people gave me hope of a better life. Just hang in there a little longer, Kelly. Shortly after arriving in paradise, I would leave my husband. Shortly after that, I received the knock on my door that is everyone’s worst nightmare. My son’s father was dead.

To heal, I had to face it all. Why did I put up with so much abuse my whole life? Why was I always abandoned? Why did I feel so worthless, so unlovable? Why was it so difficult? There were times when I couldn’t stop beating myself up enough to get up and fight. Not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for Dylan. He saved my life many times.

Self-awareness and self-care, so much grace for little Kelly, the woman I have become, and all the beautiful and messy phases in between. Those people who gave me hope from afar are now a part of my community, celebrating this new life with me daily.

And that’s how it starts – with a calm nervous system and a daily gratitude practice. Daily beach walks make it even better. Thank God for Dylan and Bailey, my house and my car and my residence in Jupiter, Florida! We’ve planted roots here and we’ve been working on growing a strong foundation through friends and community.

Please make some time for you this week! Even if it’s uncomfortable at first, I promise that’s where the magic happens. Even if you have multiple kids or a big job, or both! Especially then – it’s so important to remember your whole self, and care for your avatar. Because we are the ones who have to wake up with ourselves each day to the end, no matter what. Why not really get to know who you are at every stage in life? I think the ROI is quite significant.

Have a beautiful week!

One Love,

Kelly