What happens when the ‘before’ and ‘after’ of your life is separated by a single, catastrophic moment?
Today, we sit down with Eileen Bellew, author of After John Jumped, to talk about the raw, unfiltered reality of losing a spouse in the line of duty. Eileen opens up about the sudden transition from FDNY wife to widow, the struggle of raising four children while navigating her own PTSD, and the difficult, necessary journey of healing when grief feels like a permanent resident.
We discuss:
- The ‘Scarlet Letter’ of Widowhood: How social dynamics and support systems shift instantly after a tragedy.
- Defining Trauma, Not Just Loss: Why Eileen had to face the specific, painful details of her husband’s death to move forward.
- Finding Humor in the Hardest Places: How laughter and hope can exist alongside deep, lingering grief.
- Parenting Through Tragedy: How to hold space for children’s trauma when you are trying to survive your own.
Eileen’s journey is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Whether you are walking this path yourself or supporting someone who is, this conversation is a reminder that you don’t have to carry it alone. Tune in to hear why—even twenty years later—there is value in the struggle, and why healing is never about ‘moving on,’ but moving forward.
I am sharing my experience of loving the same man for 32 years, a mother to two adult children, a retired military officer, a breast cancer survivor, and my connections with others.
Anyone experiencing suicidal thoughts should reach out to a suicide hotline or local emergency number in their country: Psychology Today Suicide Hotlines and Prevention Resources Around the World.
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Watch the episode here
Listen to the podcast here
When Grief Never Fully Leaves: Eileen Bellew On Widowhood, Trauma & Healing
Widowhood Real Talk with Dr. Tina is more than a show. We are an entire 501(c)(3) non-profit. One of our favorite programs is Children of Widowhood Secret Santa. This allows us to help children who have lost one or both of their parents. That process is done by the remaining parent or guardian applying on their behalf.
Go to our website, Widowhood-RealTalkWithTina.org, select Events in the drop-down menu, and then select Children Widowhood Secret Santa. Apply between June 1st and June 30th, 2026. This allows us to help and sponsor you. If you are an individual, organization, book club, or group that would like to sponsor a child or entire family, please email me at WidowhoodRealTalk@gmail.com. This is our opportunity to take this show on an individual basis to people who need to know we are here, and you are not on this journey alone.
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What happens when your husband has to jump four floors to save his own life, only to die? To think after twenty years, you would say what grief has taught you, what you have learned, and how you have grown. What would you tell yourself the day after John jumped? That’s the conversation we’re going to have with Eileen. Let’s get into this conversation.
Eileen, welcome to the Widowhood.
Thank you for having me.
“Thank you for having me to the Widowhood,” the ticker tape in the back of your mind. What does it say? We know this is a club no one wants to be in, so what’s the real thought of, “Welcome to the Widowhood,” when you hear that?
Defining The “Widowhood Club” And Societal Stigma
You’re right. It’s not anything that I ever thought I would be in. Sometimes, I think to myself that I’m not. I don’t know. I sometimes think that I’m not part of that club, but I guess I am. It’s always in the back of my mind that I don’t want to be part of this club.
I know. When you think of a widow, do you think your own face represents that? When society speaks of widows, what do you think they’re thinking of?
It’s like that Scarlet Letter feeling. Especially in the firehouse, because my husband died in the line of duty, you went from the wife to a widow. The whole dynamic changes. They walk on eggshells around you. They don’t want to upset you. When you went into the firehouse a week earlier, you were joking and razzing with them. You walk in a week later, and even twenty years later, I don’t know what to say that there is a greater respect, but put on a different pedestal. With that, you lose that friendship and the funness of it. You’re the widow.
Would you want the funness? Do you think that they need to know? If someone from the firehouse were reading this conversation, what would you want them to know from your perspective?
My perspective is that when I lost John, I lost a whole other family, the firehouse family. John was an FDNY.
FDNY stands for?
The Loss Of The Firehouse Family Dynamic
The Fire Department of New York. You live with everybody for 24 hours. You have 24-hour shifts. They know everything about each other, and they know everything about each other’s families because you are with them for so long. He would come home, and I would know who was pregnant or who was getting married. In one instant, I lost all of those families. I lost all of the knowledge about everything that was going on in that firehouse. When you come into the firehouse, they’re not discussing those things with you. They’re like, “How are you doing? How are the kids?”
With the voice change.
With the head tilt. I appreciate that. One of the things John was on was the firehouse softball team. I was a pretty good athlete in my younger days. They used to say, “Do you want her to get up for you?” They used to razz him. That’s all gone. It’s almost as if you wouldn’t dare speak poorly of John, but I still make fun of John to my kids.
I tell them like it is. I’m like, “I was better than your dad in basketball. He was better than me at swimming.” I make him real. Since he died a hero through the FDNY, I could make him the most heroic person, which he was in his job, and for what he did. He was extremely heroic, but that was only one aspect of his life. To raise my kids where he’s only a hero, and then I’m left holding the discipline bag.
You bring up a good point because he was a human being. He wasn’t always this heroic person. He was maybe the guy who didn’t take out the trash sometimes. Maybe he was the guy we had regular arguments with. He was a hero. He was your husband. He was their father. He was a real person. Is that what drove you to write a book about John? What was the inspiration?
The Inspiration And Motivation Behind The Book
John jumped out of a fourth-story building. He was on fire. That’s how he died. My book is called After John Jumped, because in my life, there’s a before and an after. As John jumped, my whole body, life, and everything about me changed. When John joked, I had a 5-month-old, a 2-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a 6-year-old. This was back in 2005. Fast forward, my daughter went to NYU, and she wrote a screenplay called Black Sunday. That’s the name of the fire.
She interviewed me and was asking me all these questions. I was like, “Don’t you know that?” I was so surprised at her questions. She was like, “I don’t know that.” It came to me that they didn’t have these answers because when John jumped, I age appropriately and told them information. At least I didn’t. Maybe other people do, but you don’t go back and revisit the anguish. You’re going day-to-day. Five years later, were they probably ready for a little bit more information about how traumatic his death was? Yes, but I didn’t want to tell them that.
They did, through the osmosis of people talking, get the real story, but as she sat down and we were having this conversation, I was like, “She doesn’t know this. She doesn’t know a lot of her own history. She deserves to know her own history about her father, about that day, about the struggle, and why her mother is anxiety-crazed because of an event.” That’s when I started writing. I started writing down her history and her brother’s and sister’s history. My only goal was for four people to read this. That’s it. My goal was for four kids to read this.
I did go through an editor to wean out some stuff, and she was like, “I think you have something here. It’s something that could potentially benefit other widows who have gone through any trauma. Not just the widows, but for the kids who have gone through trauma, and their parents have trauma, to feel that connection with other kids who have to deal with me.” Not only did they lose their dad, but I say they lost a different mom that day.
I have to ask. I know that I have an advanced reader copy. We’re recording this in the month of April 2026. Is the book released, or when do you see it being released?
The book was released on April 15th, 2026, which was John’s birthday. I released it on his birthday so that we could celebrate both events.
How does that feel to have given birth to this book? What was that birthday like?
It is crazy because it’s not like you write, and then it goes out. It’s been two and a half years in the making. The first time I opened up the book and saw what you have, it was like holding this. I wasn’t a big writer. I can’t believe that I wrote 80,000 words. That’s so shocking to me. I read it, and I’m like, “I think I need to change that word. I have to put it down.” At one point, I had to read it two times to rush. I called my daughter and went, “I hate it,” because I was so exhausted by it after reading it so many times. Now, I read it, and I’m like, “There’s so much value to this.”
I have some things I would like you to read and converse on how you feel about this now, versus when you wrote it. I’d like to start with the dedication and talk about the people who are named here.
My dedication is, for Brielle, Jack, Katriana, and Kieran, to whom I wrote this book in hopes you will understand how we got here, and for John, until we meet again. Those are my four kids. It was necessary. I didn’t know it all these years. I had never intended to write a book at all. After I wrote it, it was necessary. It was very necessary for me to also get out.
I never planned to write a book. It became something I needed to do—and something I needed to put out into the world. Share on XThe other thing I discovered was that there were so many emotions and feelings inside of me that were never released. Once I put them on paper, it felt so therapeutic. The other thing that felt therapeutic was with John, my husband. There was a criminal trial for people to be held accountable for John’s death. It was in the Bronx. I sat in that courtroom for six weeks, and his name was barely mentioned.
Six people jumped. Four survived. Two died. John and Curt Meyran died that day. Four people survived, and they were on the stands. They were giving their testimony. They got to speak. They got to publicly say their emotions and feelings. I sat in that courtroom and wilted because all I kept thinking to myself was, “John was there.” In my head, I was like, “John jumped.” I wanted to scream out.
I sat there, and I wanted the jury to look at me. They never did. I wanted the people who were being held accountable to look at me because I wanted to tell them, and I never could. All four of them were acquitted. Nobody was held accountable. I didn’t have any, like on TV, those impact statements. That never happened. This is how I felt when I was in the courthouse. This is when I sat there, and I wanted to scream, “I wanted to tell you about John as a person,” instead of him being the person who died.
I also wanted to tell, especially in the first year, how I felt when people disregarded my time of loss. One of the stories in the book is that I had a parent, three weeks after John died, or John jumped, asked me if we were going to a party. She was like, “You didn’t RSVP.” I’m like, “I’m supposed to RSVP? I thought I was done with parties. For the rest of my life, I’m done with parties.”
How old was John when he jumped?
37.
He is forever 37.
Also, forever good-looking. I’m thinking I’m going to get to heaven, and he’s going to be like, “That’s what you look like.”
Explaining Fire Department Terminology For Readers
I am a retired Army. I work with a lot of acronyms. I can appreciate page vocabulary terms in the fire department. What gave you the idea to put those in there? Explain what that is to the audience.
When I first found out that John was going to go into the fire department, he was using all this lingo and terms. I was like, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He kept referring to the list. He’s like, “I got called from the list.” I’m like, “What list? A shopping list? What are you talking about?” He’s like, “The fire department list.” That’s how they refer to it. The list. Simple, but that means nothing to the majority of the world.
You have to read what the list is.
The list refers to the numerical list created after a fire department entrance exam is taken. It gives a number to those eligible to be hired or promoted. When John jumped, he was on the lieutenant’s list. They promoted him even though he passed. He was going into the next class. That class left an empty chair for him.
Did you attend that ceremony?
I did attend that ceremony, and I bought the first round of drinks for when they finished on John. They also bought me a beautiful necklace. It was a fire department emblem necklace. The FDNY is very great at making sure that people are remembered. As I was writing, these vocabulary terms were coming up. I was like, “If I didn’t know what they were, if someone’s reading my book, they’re going to be like, ‘Probie? What is a Probie?’” This is the newest member serving a probation period. There are truckies, engines, and ladders. I was trying to give a little bit of terminology before you even hit the book.
Bravo. Thank you. People would read that, but it takes a moment. A two-year process to write this all out, and then go, “Who’s going to know what that means?” You helped the reader. Thank you for that. In the foreword, there’s a section in the second paragraph. The first two sentences, if you would read that, please.
“I tried for a long time not to use that language, but I have to. Those words invoke so much emotion in me.”
What is the emotion in you?
When I began to write, I started to say, “When John died. When John passed away.” That does not do anything for me. I understand what that means, but John jumping is what causes me the most PTSD. Instead of me saying, “John passed away. John died,” I have to say, “John jumped,” because that is when I have to have lost him. Anything else is unbearable. He had to have left us once he jumped. The thought of the excruciating pain and the list of things that broke on John when he landed.
Do you want to talk about those things?
Understanding The Reality Of John’s Death And Injuries
John was the closest to the fire source. It blew over because there were illegal walls within the apartment. John’s turnout gear, which is the bunker gear, turned brown. What that means is that the material that makes up the bunker gear has vaporized. The only time that material turns to vapor is if somebody is under 500 to 700 degrees on fire. John’s bunker gear was on fire when he jumped. They have pictures and diagrams in the courthouse. You see the circles of the windows and where the people landed. John’s circle is much further away from the building than their circles because they held on and dropped, as opposed to John, who most likely jumped.
When you’re saying jumping, how many stories or height?
Four stories, but it ended up being five stories because it was an alleyway below. He is further out from the building, which most likely means that John was jumping out. He was not with anyone. The others were with people. There were three at one window. They were together. There was another one and another one. Both survived. They were forced to jump out of other windows.
When you look at John’s injuries, he had his air tank still on. He didn’t release his air tank and jump because he didn’t have time to. When he jumped, he fell back on his air tank and broke every single rib. I don’t know how many. Maybe it was 32 ribs or something. He shattered his right femur. That was completely gone. He ultimately died of brain swelling. He jumped at 8:30 in the morning, and he died at 1:00. Somehow, he lived for those hours.
I did get to the hospital to see him and say goodbye to him. I felt like he was holding on. For a while, I talked to him and said, “We’re going to do this. We’re going to fight this. We can do this.” At some point, it changes to realize how selfish it was of me to ask him to stay because that life would not have been any type of life that John would want to live. Most likely, he would have been a quadriplegic and maybe even in a vegetative state. There was a point where I said, “This is selfish of me to ask you to stay. You can go. You should go. Take care of us.” I have such a strong faith in John. I did part ways with God for a little while.
Don’t hesitate with that. That is part of the reality. I don’t want to snub that part. That is an honest experience. I feel like if we’re not able to be honest about that, then people won’t understand the whole purpose of you writing this book, which is to share with people to know they are not alone. Fifty percent of the people that I speak with, the passing or the death has impacted their faith in some way or another. My job is not to judge that, but the whole space, and let you know you’re not alone.
I began to experience spirituality with a huge spirituality. I used to be like, “Dear God,” and then I started to say, “Dear John, please bless us.” I started to pray to John. I was like, “I have to include my father,” so then I started including my father. God slipped back in after a while. My true spirituality is very deep with John because of many different signs from him, knowing that I feel like he potentially could have raised my four more than I did.
How long had John been a police officer when this took place?
Ten years.
My dad was a police officer. They’re trained. He understood the risk he was taking, either dying in that fire or dying from that jump. He was not a rookie. He wasn’t a probie. He was someone about to make lieutenant, knowing what the choice was. He knew that his better choice was jumping than it was staying in that building.
I talk to different people.
We have another page to read.
Burning to death is not of any choice you’d rather have.
On page seven, I want to say the third paragraph down, if you would read that.
“John understood that though we loved each other, our families would have issues with the swiftness of our decision. I spent the next two years driving two hours, fighting traffic, and waiting in tollbooth lines to cross over two bridges to get to his house to spend a few hours with him in Howard Beach, Queens.”
What was the swift decision that was made?
About two weeks after I met John, he said, “What are you doing in two years?” I said, “Nothing.” He said, “Would you want to marry me?” That was two weeks after we met each other. I said yes, but we kept it on the download because we knew everybody would be like, “You’re crazy.” The point that I was making here is that there was an easy pass back then. I don’t know if you are familiar with easy passes. I sat in a lot of toll lines to go see him.
Was John worth it?
He was totally worth it. Poor John had to sleep on my mom’s pullout couch when he came over.
They had the wafer mattress back then.
You might as well sleep on the floor.
You said that John was handsome. I know there is a blog that will go with your podcast. Are you sharing pictures of John so they can see how handsome he is?
Yes.
When you think back to these moments, what comes to mind? They’re not the moment they died. There is a time when the memories and the love are released, and we remember all the other things.
When I think back on the time that I was reading this, there was such an innocence and naivety that I miss. There are people who luckily don’t go through trauma or loss.
If you find those people, let me know. I don’t know where they are.
I think of this one woman in my town. I think to myself, “That was such a different time.” There are very few things that you do in life. I remember giving birth. At that time, the amount of knowledge you gain, learn, and be in touch with taps into a part of the brain. It’s like when you call your mom and say, “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t know.”
I was 35 years old, and I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I didn’t know about people, the psychology of people, and being two parents. Your job doubles. I didn’t know how ignorant people can be. I think to myself, “I was that.” You want to apologize to people for what you didn’t know. This, besides having children, is the one event that, not instantly, but over time, determines how much knowledge you gain about people and yourself, how strong you can be, and how resilient you can be. It still blows me away at what I gained from this positively, which is an oxymoron, but there is a lot.
Let’s talk about that. Let’s back up. You have been on this little hood journey for twenty-plus years. This is not the version of you that showed up the day after John jumped. There is still a lingering impact. You talked about your daughter needing to understand why the anxiety level is high and why different things activate your grief.
For someone reading this conversation, and their spouse has passed. They’re looking at you having this conversation about this very traumatic experience that has changed your life forever. The PTSD is there, and all these other different things. If you could go back to the day after John jumped, based on what you know now, what would you tell her?
Developing Self-Compassion And Giving Yourself Grace
I would say, “You have to give yourself grace and time.
What does giving myself grace mean?
Meaning, I beat myself up a lot in the beginning. Since you feel that from the outside world, you feel like you should be moving on.
Making an RSVP for the party.
It was three weeks later. My family is Irish Catholic. If you know anything about Irish Catholic families, you pull up your bootstraps and move on. They wanted the best for me, but they wanted me to move on. I would be so angry at everybody for moving on, and so angry that they thought I should be okay and I should be moving on. What I learned is that it’s not them being cruel or mean.
Some of them will never get it. You could explain for 24 hours straight how you feel, but they mentally will never get it and never get to that point. The other thing is that most of them want you to be okay. That’s why they’re pushing it. It’s almost like they’re ignoring your feelings because they don’t want to feel it. They want you to feel okay. They’re like, “Let’s pretend that you’re okay.”
Is that possible?
No. That’s why I had to write it to be like, “I wasn’t okay. I was screaming inside.” For the first two years, I was completely numb. I got angry because with my five-month-old, I missed out on all of his milestones. I got up, and he got breakfast, he got changed, and I breastfed until he was a year old, but I was never there.
You weren’t present.
I remember going to the doctors, and they’d be like, “When did he walk?” I’m like, “Twelve months.” I made up stuff because I had no idea. I just knew that it was in the range.
Does the organization give insight or help for widows trying to navigate that?
Utilizing Department Support Programs For Children
Yes. There’s a family assistant program. Within two weeks, I had a therapist at my house. The key there was that she came to my house. If I had to go to her office, I wouldn’t have showered. I could not have physically gotten to an office, so I wouldn’t have gotten help. For the first year, she came to my house. When I moved, I drove to her office. They have that.
The other thing that the fire department has is these programs that are fabulous for the children. One is called Answer the Call. They have one called Tuesday’s Children, which was based on a 9/11 one. They let our kids go, and they give programs. They’ll send them to a baseball game, and you’ll be around other families. You felt good about it because you felt like there were other kids that are in the same situation. Sometimes, misery loves company.
You’re saying, “If they can do it, the possibility of my learning to live exists.”
You connect with some, and you don’t connect with others, and that’s fine. That’s life. It also gave me something to do. I remember for the first couple of years, I planned stuff every single day for my kids to do, so I didn’t have to think. We went to the library program, then we went to the pool, and then we did this. I was doing it. Was I connecting with them? No. I was entertaining them, getting them out of the house, and doing stuff. My therapist said, “This is all going to crash and burn on you,” and it did, especially on rainy days.
Do you try to avoid being in the house?
I tried to avoid being in the house. I tried to avoid thinking. I would get them exhausted and get myself exhausted so that maybe I could fall asleep at night. Which never happened, but that was the plan. I still have this issue in that I was a teacher, and I chose to give up teaching to raise my kids. I knew that eventually, they weren’t going to need me. I’m struggling with that. It wasn’t like it hit me like a blind side. I knew it, but I stayed busy. When your kids are in all these sports and all these things, you’re doing. You never think that it’s going to end, but it has ended. They’re all self-sufficient and all on their own. I thought to myself, “I should have screwed one of them up.”
You have book tours. You have things to talk about. You can go around the United States and talk to all the fire departments and the wives.
I need to hire you as my PR.
Two days with the book here. Your website, we’re talking about this. They’re going to try to find you later.
I hope so.
That’s what’s going to happen. Let’s go to page 73, starting with, “Even now.” They’re going to have to find you.
I hope so.
When you get the first speaking engagement, you have to message me and email me or something to say it’s happening.
The Difficulty Of Telling The Children The Truth
“Even now, while writing this twenty years later, my stomach feels sick and my palms sweat. Even after all we have tackled and accomplished, I can’t think about this moment from my past. The worst moment of my life. I’m having a panic attack as I type. I’m sweating. It feels like a 1,000-pound weight is on my chest. I have tried writing this many times before, and I physically can’t. I usually move on to other things to avoid this entry.”
I’m going to go into the entry. “Brielle walked into my bedroom with a huge smile and jumped into my arms, yelling, “Mommy, you’re home. I squeezed her hard, and the tears flooded from my eyes. I felt like I had to rip the Band-Aid off immediately. I couldn’t wait any longer. Brielle was only six, but intuitive and could sense something was wrong. ‘Did daddy come home? Are we going sledding?’ ‘There was a fire. Daddy was searching for a baby when the fire got out of control. Daddy couldn’t get out and got hurt badly. He went to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t save him.’
Her brow curled, and her gaze stared into my eyes. ‘Why are you saying that? Why are you being so mean? Don’t say that about Daddy. Don’t be so mean. Why are you being so mean to Daddy? He’s coming home.’ I had to convince my baby that her dad was never coming home, even though he told her that he would always come home. I thought to myself, ‘How stupid were we? Why did we promise that? There’s always a chance John could have gotten hurt. Why would we promise his safety?’ We did what every other fire family does when their loved one leaves for a 24-hour shift.” Sorry.
There is no sorry when you’re talking about your whole husband who jumped. There is no sorry here. It is what it is. Take your time.
That was the hardest thing I had to do. I told each one of them individually. I don’t know why. I think back on things and how I did it.
You did the best you could do with what you knew.
I knew that I had to tell each one individually so that I could tackle it to their age. In the end, Kieran, who was only five months old, was swinging in one of those mechanical swings. I went over to him, and he had a rainbow across his face. I thought, “This is so weird.” It was in the house that wasn’t near a window, and it was in January. I picked him up, and I felt like, “I have to tell him. I know he’s five months old, but somebody has to tell him that his dad died.” I told him, and that was the first time I said “died.” I didn’t tell the others that their dad died. I said he went to heaven.
Maybe it was safe to say it in his ears because he was not going to acknowledge it.
Telling him was more helpful to me than for him. I can still see her little face when she was yelling at me. I see it in my head. It’s the one piece that will never ever leave me. It still is hard. I discuss it with the younger ones, and they don’t remember me even telling them. It’s so traumatic for me, and yet they don’t remember it.
Have the children read the book?
Three of the four have. Before I published it, I gave it to them. I said, “You can take anything out that you want. We don’t have to mention any stories that you don’t want the world to know. Remove anything.” I have no problem with them taking anything out. They came back, and two of them were like, “You never mentioned the sock story. That was a good story.” I was like, “I didn’t write that.” They were like, “You should put that in.”
My youngest hasn’t read it. He’s a bit of a funny clown. I’ll be like, “Are you not going to read it?” He goes, “I don’t need to read it. I lived it.” There are parts that are very sad. I don’t know if he wants to go there. He has it. Anytime he wants to open it, he can read it. I love the fact that when I’m long gone on this earth, it will still be here. None of them has children, but they will all have children. It will be nice for their children to read about their grandfather, whom they never had the opportunity to meet.
Have other family members or members of the fire department read the book?
It came out not long ago, and many people have been like, “I read it yesterday.” I’m like, “You read the whole book yesterday?” They’re like, “Yes, it was great.” I sent it to a few people in the fire department and stuff. I had the vocabulary John’s captain helped me with because I wanted to make sure that I wrote that correctly.
If I screwed that up, I didn’t want to hear about that. There were a couple of different things I’ve asked to make sure I was right on the lingo. It’s not necessarily about fire procedures, but you want to represent it correctly. I spent the beginning part of the couple of years getting away from the media. Now, I went and put myself out there, but it’s on my terms.
You’re ready.
You’re reading about what I was trying to scream for those couple of years.
Another thing is, we have such intense feelings in those very early parts of our grief. Going back to grace, we are giving ourselves grace that this may change. There’s a lot of, “I would never,” and then it’s like, “Maybe I would.” We get to change because we are in uncharted territory, a place we’ve never been before. We don’t know what tomorrow will look like. We didn’t know we would be in that situation. Part of that grace is saying, “How I see this later is going to be different than this very moment.”
I agree with you. There are parts of the book where I talk about competing with grief. When you’re competing with other people over grief, you think, “That’s silly,” but at that time and space, I was. There were times that I was competing, and I was like, “I have the most traumatic thing.” You have other people who are saying the same. Let’s say other widows or even within family members. Everybody is grieving a different person. His brothers and sisters are grieving a brother. They knew him longer.
Competing over grief sounds absurd, but when you're in the middle of it, it feels real. I believed my pain was the greatest—until I realized everyone else felt the same about theirs. Share on XYou bring up a point that is so complicated. Everyone is grieving the same person, but grieving different relationships. In the competition of, “I lost my brother. I lost my husband. I lost my dad.” The only way that tends to work is where everyone says, “We’re all grieving this person.” Four children are grieving their dad differently, having that ability.
That competition does happen, but we’re just trying to scream, “I’m hurting. I’m hurting with you. We’re hurting together in a different way. Don’t expect my hurt to be presented the same way that your hurt is.” That is the problem because we also, in the background, have these very intense emotions, and no one is refereeing because we’re all raw together.
That knowledge you stated didn’t come for many years for me.
You were with children. You’re probably in the shower crying, or in the car when you get a moment. You’re a full-time mommy and thinking, “John. I know he jumped, but where is he right now?” The mind goes back and forth with that. You already are experiencing the fatigue of grief and having to show up 24 hours a day until the children finally get to a place where you can finally go, “This has been hard.”
There are times I’ll be on a walk or whatever and think about my own life. I’m like, “That’s a sad story,” and then I’m like, “Wait a minute. That’s my story.”
Look at you laughing. Would you have ever thought that you might RSVP for a party? We feel like, at that moment, that’s forever.
I even feel like my journey was very long. I was almost worried that people were looking and were like, “I have to wait twenty years before I start laughing again.” That worries me. Everybody’s journey is so different. When you read the book, know that it wasn’t every day that I was in this doldrums. I remember a couple of months after, my sister and I got together, and I started laughing. We can make each other laugh.
I physically had pain in my stomach because I don’t think I used those muscles to laugh in so long. You’re like, “It’s in there. There’s laughter in there.” It was buried for a while, but it’s back, which is so nice. In the same sense, when I was talking to you about my kids leaving, there’s still so much loneliness when you lose the one person that you made that person with, because I yearn to have a conversation with him about them.
It may not always be nice about them.
I want to complain, like, “I can’t believe you freaking said that.”
We’re like, “You’re out here in heaven, and I’m out here parenting. That was not on my bingo card. I did not drive an hour and all that for this right here at all.” On page 135, starting with, “I quickly.” We have two more tabs. We might be able to get through them all.
“I quickly discovered that as the kids got older, the inner demons got louder. My anxiety wanted control of situations. When the kids were babies, I controlled everything. I decided when they ate, slept, what they wore, where they would play, who they played with, and what activities they would engage in, but every year, my control as a parent grew weaker.”
“I soon realized I wasn’t the most influential person in my children’s lives. Some sassy middle school classmates were. You would think that as each year passed further away from the date of John’s jumping, my anxiety and sadness would fade. The truth is that the opposite happened. As I lost control of everyone’s actions, my anxiety became worse, and I needed help.”
What did that help look like for you?
Navigating Trauma, Medication, And Mental Health Support
I had to go on medication. It took a long time to agree to that. I struggled with the person I was, who I wanted to remain, and the person that I became. Once I realized that your brain physically rewires itself with trauma, I realized that I didn’t have the same brain as I had, and that chemically, I could be helped with anti-anxiety medications. I tried it for a while. They switched to a generic, but it didn’t work as well. I’ve gone on and off of them. I think that they are wonderful, along with therapy. I tried EMDR. I’d like to be more into that. I’d like to try that more.
I’ve heard that people have a lot of success with that.
My daughter tried it. She has had success with it, so I’d like to try that. I’m a terrible meditator. I would love to become a better meditator. The thoughts are so constant that it frustrates me more to try meditation than to actually meditate. I’m up for every single thing. Every Instagram ad, I click on it and buy it. I try everything, but it’s a total struggle. The second I put my head down at night is the worst part. It’s when all of the thoughts that everything bad is going to continue to happen start to spin out of control.
Thank you for being so transparent in sharing that. Two things can exist at the same time. Functioning, laughing, and this traumatic part of John jumping still impacts you. Sometimes, people look at having to take medications like, “You did that?” It was like, “I did.” It’s the idea of us choosing to do what’s in our best interest because everybody on the outskirts gets to handle that differently.
You had to find a way that was going to work for you. I’m proud of you for sharing that. For people who are tuning in and struggling with, “I thought I was strong. I thought I could manage all this. I thought I had it all under control. The moment my husband took his last breath, I was very aware I was not in control of anything.”
It took me a long time. I still fight it. I still fight the control thing.
There’s safety in that. Let’s go to page 203, starting with, “When you have experienced trauma.”
The Struggle With Anxiety, Safety, And Loss Of Control
“When you have experienced trauma, you are very much aware that it could happen again. I try to block out that memory altogether. Even writing about it makes me sick, but I should have learned something from that experience. Bad things still happen regardless of your planning and warnings to your kids. We had discussed riptides and how to get out of them, but until you are in them, you don’t know how you’ll react.
I will be forever grateful for that lifeguard who did his job and saved all the people who mean the most to me. The saying “small kids, small problems” holds true with anxiety. Big kids mean considerably more anxiety. I was hoping to outgrow it once they were no longer within my reach, but what I didn’t realize was that I lost control of every movement they made.
The college sent safety alerts, texting me, intended to reassure parents about their campus safety, but they only heightened my attention. Every time I got an alert about a sexual assault, I would immediately text my daughter to make sure it was not them. My son went to a city school, so sometimes, I would get texts about shootings close to the campus. I would call him because I knew I wouldn’t get a text back, and he would say, “I passed the yellow crime tape. Lots of police activity.”
They’re so nonchalant about it. You mentioned something about things on Instagram. My son sent me a video about what your mom thinks is happening when you don’t answer your text. When you read this now, what do you think?
I still think about all of that stuff. I can say that I’ve learned it, but no. My imagination is probably the greatest, and it all stems from their safety. I don’t think about, “I’m not going to go to bed tonight and worry about Tina’s safety.” No offense. Do you know what I mean? I will. If you want me to, believe it, I can add you to my list. It’s all about their safety.
It’s because they’re what you have left of John.
I think that if I tell them every single thing that pops into my head, I can control that. My therapist did this once. It was a great exercise. It didn’t calm or quell me. She said, “The next time you’re going to go and tell them, ABCDEFG, ask them what you would say.” I asked them, “You’re going out tonight. What would I warn you about?” They had ten more things than me.
They’re listening.
They know it, but for some reason, I can’t not tell them. It’s an OCD thing. I’m like, “What happens if I didn’t tell them that?” Often, things happen to them. During COVID, Katriana got spat in the face by a homeless man. That was during the height of COVID. I can guarantee that when she was like, “I’m leaving, Mom,” I didn’t say, “When a homeless man walks by you, make sure that you are not close to him.” I can’t cover every single thing, but I think I can. I think that I’m able to do it.
You wrote a book. You did that. You’re about to have speaking engagements.
Thank you.
Page 289, starting with “Between.”
“Between the sheer sadness and the incessant crying, my body couldn’t maintain homeostasis. All I wanted was for my mind to stop working. Little did I know that trauma tears have a chemical makeup different from the regular tear production and might help you release hormones that help bring calmness back to your body. If I had known that, I would have stopped trying to suppress them and let the tear ducts do their thing.”
“All this chaos in your body wears you out. I woke up daily with headaches. I walked around with stomach pains. I believe it was because my brain would not stop thinking. My brain was working overtime, almost like a muscle. The lactic acid built up caused me to have headaches, stomach pains, and body aches. It’s a wonder I didn’t get physically ill during that time, but I think my body was running on fumes. Somehow, my deep inner cells took over so I could survive.”
What did you learn from that grief? Before John jumped, and you heard someone’s grieving. What was your thought process on that versus what you found to be your experience?
I didn’t give it enough thought. I was probably in that same category where you don’t go there because you don’t want people to feel pain. What I’ve learned is to be so much more empathetic, more so with time. Do you want 20 years or 30 years? You can have 20 years or 30 years. If you’re okay with it and you’re coming around after a year, then great. When I was in it in the beginning, I was in pain and suffering. The kids are on a roller coaster. They visit, then they’re sad, and then they’re not sad. I’m more like a child. I visit it, and then I’m better, luckily. To stay in that state is not physically good for you. That brings on more disease.
How did it feel to learn the knowledge of the different types of tears? How did that impact your grief?
That’s why I wrote it. If I were in it, I’d love to know that that was something that happened. I was a science teacher, so all that physiological stuff interests me. Let it flow. Let the tears flow. There is a lot to be said for a release for you. Something that did help me was that when John jumped, I was breastfeeding. That was the time that I was the calmest. It was when I would breastfeed, because there is a hormonal release at that point, too. I used to make Kieran sleep in the bed for way too long because I wanted somebody next to me.
We didn’t go through your entire book, but I feel like we were able to talk about some parts to share what a reader can expect in this book and their experience. Where can we find your book?
You can find them on Amazon. It’s on Amazon. It’s also on BookLife.org. Also, you can go through my website, which is EileenBellew.com. That has all the links there. It’s on Barnes & Noble. It’s in all the outlets. I would love for people to read it. My goal was that five people would buy it that I didn’t know.
We need five people from this show to reach her goal. I try to give my guests an opportunity to be the host. Are there any questions you have for me?
What’s the one thing that you learned that was the most surprising about people after your husband died?
My experience tends to be outside the norm, where a lot of people feel like their friends and family have evaporated or disappeared. Mine leaned in. My family and friends leaned in. That night that Mark died, we were in Delaware. They drove from Pennsylvania and from Virginia to converge on where I was by myself.
They have remained that committed and that steadfast. I was surprised when I found out that other people did not have their family and friends stay the course. That was disheartening to think that in my weakest, most needy, devastating moment, you would disappear. I don’t think people realize how their disappearance hurts. I’ve learned that from so many conversations.
My sister relocated from California to Virginia because it was the closest that she could get to me. My mom and sister live next door. My family and friends have been committed. They have loved me. They have seen me at my worst and are like, “I’m going to sit with you here.” It doesn’t have to change. It is what it is. I thought everybody had love and support like that, so it surprised me to go, “People don’t have community.”
When we host our widows’ retreat in December 2026, that may be something you want to think about. It’s December 3rd through the 6th. We have a three-story house and an indoor pool. Ten widows, at the most, are allowed to come to be in that space with other women. The camaraderie to be able to hear into the healing and the mending that happens in that space. Realizing there are so many women yearning for that experience is what surprised me.
In one of the retreats, someone was newly widowed. Maybe it was over a year. We were downstairs talking, and she was like, “I need to go to bed.” I was like, “Let her go.” The next morning, we were having breakfast, and she said, “I was lying in bed and listening to you laugh.” I was like, “When am I going to be able to laugh like that?”
By that night, she was dancing. She had given herself permission because she was in a space with other women where you don’t have to explain how you feel. There’s a whole different conversation you have with team widows talking about all the widow things, and no one has to explain because everyone gets it. Watching that healing, that encouragement, and that self-liberation happen surprises me, too.
That’s so beautiful. That’s so nice.
You’re more than welcome to join us.
I know. When people think that they’re giving you space by letting you go, it’s disappointing because they are abandoning you. You feel abandoned, and you feel even more alone.
Struggle gives you more than pain. It builds empathy, emotional intelligence, spirituality, and deeper connections with the people who truly matter. Share on XYou’ve lost something else. You’re like, “Who’s here for me?” I didn’t know people were struggling like that.
It’s tough because his whole world was your world. I lost his friends. I lost his firehouse. I lost his family. It became half quickly. I do write about a little bit in the book. It’s great for people to hear not to do that, and to have more of your experience.
I would like you to close out this conversation. Any final words? There may be something you wanted to cover that we didn’t talk about. Go ahead and wrap this up.
Finding Hope And Positive Traits Through Trauma
The one thing that I’d like you to know is that my story is a little sad and all that, but there’s a lot of humor in the book, so it’s not all sad. As you finish reading it and come out of the other side, that is when I discuss all of the positive things that you might get from tragedy. That is hope. It is the hope that you’ll see that struggle is a struggle, but you gain things from struggle. You gain empathy, emotional intelligence, spirituality, and connectedness with some people. It may not be all, but a deeper connection with some. There are a lot of positive traits that you can gain through trauma. Sometimes, that needs to be said. Maybe not right away, but it is there.
Thank you so much.
Thank you for having me. I appreciate it.
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About Eileen Bellew
Eileen Bellew lives in Pearl River, NY, in the same house she and her firefighter husband, John, purchased after they married in 1995. She raised her four children in the home along with their dad, who is doing his part from heaven. Her inspiration for this memoir came from her daughter Katreana’s screenplay about the fire that took her father’s life. Her film, Black Sunday: Trial By Fire, is currently in development. Eileen now lives with her second husband, Kevin, and their dog, Blue. Eileen has returned to teaching and continues John’s legacy through their foundation, the John Bellew Memorial Fund. She is learning to be an empty nester.
