Done

Here I am - Monday evening.  Sucking it all in.  Mourning the loss of a dream - knowing that this was the best action I could take.

I am happy that I finally posted a photo of him ---- he is was so important in my life.  Saturday afternoon I told him that "we" were over.  I am sad but committed to myself and the future.

More to come...............................

The Man - He Kicked Down the Doors - Kisses Always

Legacy

My mother continues to decline.  I have learned so much from her on this journey.   I am so grateful that I can be present to her.  When I was there in February, I bought her all new clothes.  At that point, I bought "what I thought she should have".   Once I returned home to Minnesota (after several phone conversations with her) I ordered the "travel knit" pants she likes to wear - practical as those cotton pants were (for someone with incontinence problems) those are not her style.  So what if the travel knits wear out faster and have a tendency to hold on to objectionable odors.  Who cares!  No matter her decline, she has always been a woman of great beauty and style.

Today as I was canning pickles, I thought about how far we have come on this journey of aging and loving one another.  Mother and I have always had differences of opinion - in the end of days here we are, the two of us.  Today I realized that I might have been unconsciously taking out some deeply buried "adolescent crap" out on her when I purchase her "practical cotton pants".    Mother has always been the definition of controlling, including every aspect of my upbringing and just maybe I was acting out some long held thing - who knows, who cares.  We are here together until the end of days and I am honored to companion her on this difficult journey. 

 She has begun to have frequent falls.  Two weeks ago, she fell and knocked out one of her front teeth.  Luckily, that is something the dentist can repair.  It is now "good as new".  She fell again this week trying to hang the hummingbird feeder.  I hope she stays vertical until I arrive on August 1.

Of course, I worry.  Of course, I want her to be safe.  Of course, of course, of course.  I have learned to curb my worry and anxiety and not have it spill over onto her.  I try to honor her decisions and speak only lovingly and constructively to her.

Today when I called, she was baking cookies.  These are the prepacked "Nestle Toll House" cookies that you can purchase in your supermarket's refrigerated case.  She has been baking these for the last few years.  They are "her cookies" and she gives them to her neighbors and friends.  She would be mortified if she thought anyone thought she didn't mix the batter from scratch. :-)

When I spoke with her, I saw us - how alike we are and how much I have inherited from her.  She can't slow down and she won't slow down - feeling needed - doing things for others - being active - using her hands, these are all intrinsic to what and how she is.  I am so grateful to for that legacy and to have inherited that can-do spirit,  She is the energizer bunny and if she falls and hurts herself - she is living her life - not sitting on the shelf.  A priceless and precious legacy.  Thank you Mother.

Life on this last day of 65

This is a precious time.  I have been able to spend a significant amount of solitary time this past week.  This picture so accurately depicts where I am right now.  It is time - time to move out of my comfort zone and reach for the stars ahead.

I changed my blog template this week - this is the third template in 6 years.  The first was dark - black with white type, reflecting my life and my pain.  The second, blue with clouds and the new one, a pale golden background with a flock of birds in flight,  reaching for the sky.  How fitting.

Just as the template is symbolic, so too the tag line, which I also changed this morning.  For the first few years the tag was "when you're going through hell - keep going".  For the past two years, "the adventure continues" - the new tagline "embrace the magic" is fitting for what is ahead.

I am unsure about  what is ahead yet I know it is wonderful.  I feel it deep in my bones - something amazing.  I am going to (not tiptoe)  begin to take leaps outside my comfort zone.  Starting now.  I reach for the magic. 

The birthday weekend continues - I am blessed and grateful for this life.  And for YOU.  You are MAGIC.

Report from the beginning of the Birthday Weekend

Yep, here I am, sending my love to you all  - fairly late on the first night of my birthday weekend.    Sushi dinner - fabulous - my family of choice  -  triple fabulous. 

Thanks Mom ---- today and always

Glimpses from the Road Ahead

I am feeling better.  I took your advice and kicked off my shoes, had a drink of cool water (and some wine), took a nap, walked in solitude, reflected on my experiences of the past 6 months and tucked all my blog sisters' comments and thoughts safely in my heart.   Moving forward - taking some giant steps, some baby steps - there is momentum and greater clarity.  Thank you.

Here I am at another birthday time of year.  This time of year has always been precious to me.  Time to reflect on the year just passed and the year ahead.  Birthdays have never bothered me much - you know, "OMG, I am (fill in the blank) - I am getting soooo old" - just hasn't been part of my repertoire.   

I am very blessed to be strong and healthy.  I have always enjoyed that irrepressible excitement and enthusiasm for life; the kind of enthusiasm that bubbles up spontaneously from deep in your bones.   

As my birthday rapidly approaches, I don't feel like what I imagined 65 - going on 66 - would feel.  (And no, sixty is NOT the new forty - gack!  It is 60, thank god.)  I treasure the years I have been on this earth.  I feel so blessed to still wake up each morning and have the privilege to learn, grow, serve, make mistakes and still be in my earthly body.   

This birthday is interesting because I can see down the road towards seventy.   It is not a vision in the far distant future.  It is a point that is within reach in a relatively short period of time.   Of course, those of us who have lost people very close to us know, anything can happen in the next minute, but until then - 70 is within my grasp.  

I feel a sense of excitement.  There is something out there just beyond my sight, I do not know what it is.  But I feel it, at times it takes my breath away.  I have no idea if it is personal, professional or a combination of both.  I will quietly and patiently wait.   The vigil and pilgrimage have begun.

This photo was taken on my sixth birthday - 60 years ago, whew!  Thank you to each of you who are still visiting and still reading and still caring about me.  I am deeply grateful that you will to share your guidance and perspectives with me.   Many hugs and much love.  Namaste.

Can't Walk Another MIle

That's right - there are no more words. 

Next Steps......

Letting go of illusions.  Living in the moment.  Letting go of what is so you can have what awaits.

Each January I record my intentions for the year on a large sheet of paper and affix it to my home office door.  I am able to see it many, many times a day.  This year it took me until early March to record my 2012 Intentions - here they are: 

• Believe in Transformation
• Seek to Understand 
• Work Patiently and Persistently at All My Goals
• Love the Now - Live in the Moment 
• Remember: all is well in my world

When I began this intention practice it was January of the first full year of widowhood (2005).  My intentions were to remember to breathe, drink water, read, and walk.   Basic survival.   In 2010 and 2011, my foremost intention was to practice self-compassion.

As I look at my 2012 Intentions I see that I have been moving in the direction of moving on.   Seeking to understand was the intention that moved me here - I do understand.  I do believe in Transformation.  I am working patiently and persistently at my goals.  I am so much better at practicing self-compassion.

There is still more to do.....I am not in a huge hurry......I am going to Michigan for a week over July 4th to visit my Norwegian blog-brother, Tor.    I am feeling compelled to visit Sedona, Arizona - I don't know why but I think I will just buy a ticket and go for a long weekend one day soon.  I also need to go home - my Mom is not doing well and needs me to just be there for a bit.

Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps into my future.

Sad -------------

After nearly two years, it is clear to me that this relationship is not the lasting thing I thought was being built.  I can have a relationship, but on his terms and he seems stuck.  Stuck in the death of his wife nearly 15 years ago?  Stuck in his head?  Stuck - just stuck.  I have no idea what or where he is stuck - stuck he is.

I need more.  I need someone who is capable of having a deep relationship.  Someone who can move things to a new level over time.  I need someone who is able to express their feelings and someone who is able to give of themselves from their heart and accept in equal measure. 

I am very sad today.   This doesn't have to end.  I can still have this relationship as long as I have no expectations of next steps.  As long as I can just enjoy the laughter and companionship and not want any more than that.  As long as he never has to talk about his emotions or feelings.  That is not me.   The superficiality is making me crazy. 

I know it is possible to have a deep and mutually rewarding relationship.  I know that I have a lot to give.  I want to be able to share myself with another person - deeply, personally and generously.  And I want to have the same in return.

Or I can remain alone.  I have a wonderful life filled with things that I value and am surrounded by friends and family of choice that care deeply about me and I about them.

I see him quite clearly - he is a lovely person with such a big heart.  He is hurt inside and I cannot "make it better" - at this stage of my life I know you cannot "fix" another.   Does he love me?  Yes!  Is love enough?  Obviously not.  He has finally said that he does not have anything to give someone else.  It is not about me.  It is about him.

My heart is hurting today - it is a beautiful sunny day and I am just curled up alone - reflecting - doing a bit of crying - releasing the hurt and thinking about what I want.

Life is short -------------------- those are not just words.  I am strong.  I am joyful.  I am capable.  I am resilient.  I am creative.  I am giving.  I am generous of spirit.  I am ready to take the next steps into the unknown.   And yes, I am sad.  So much potential - so much love - not meant to be right now.

"The greatest thing you can ever learn is just to love and be loved in return"

Life is Life......

It has been far too long since I wrote here.  Not only has my blog been silent, I have not been reading all my dear friends blogs. 

So, here I am back again - I don't even know if there is anyone out there who will read this but if so, hello - I am still here on the planet.

Life flows along.  My work is very busy right now, which is a good thing when you are a consultant - no paycheck job for this woman. 

The Grief Project manages to keep going - I am hoping to have a break from client work in the next couple of months to really put some more time into it.  This is the year to get "Stories from the Road" off the ground and going.  All in the all, it is not too bad.  We have managed to have two Gatherings since the last retreat and we will have another April 28.  We have a private support page on Facebook, which I update almost everyday.  And there is another retreat this summer - July 28 and 29th, so it is unfolding.

My BFF, Joan, just arrived and so I need to go for now.  But I am back and I will write more soon.  Love you all.

Just Reporting from Seven Years In...

No matter what - I am different and I celebrate that different.  I am quite clear - I am me and I must treasure me.  Nothing else matters.  It is liberating - OMG - 40+ years later and I am finally liberated - shall we all have a big :-) and yet is is true. 

My joy, my happiness, my well being, ME - I - ME - they do not depend on anything or anyone but me.  Oh sure, I still get caught up in the old tapes, the old dramas, the old habits...yep, that's living on the planet.   Living here in this skin - breathing - being here is a blessing.

Filled with wonder and gratitude.

Kisses and Hugs and Kisses and Hugs (as far as the eye can see)

Love and Light

Today is the winter solstice - the longest night, shortest day of the year.  This is the night that I fill my home with lighted candles and say blessings for the year that is waning and the new year ahead.  I found this post on Facebook; it is beautiful and captures so much. 

Tonight is the second night of Hanukkah AND the solstice - I am hosting "Pagan Hanukkah" - lots of candles, blessings, a few latkes and a menorah too.  Many blessings to each of you.  I hope you enjoy this story:

From an article written by Beth Botts in the Chicago Tribune a few years ago titled, “Out of Darkness, Rebirth.”

OUT of DARKNESS, REBIRTH

The darkest day is the birthday of hope: For many thousands of years, that is what the winter solstice has meant to people all over the world; the shortest day of the year, when night had its greatest dominion. But it also is the day that light begins to grow. And from ancient times -- in imperial Persia and prehistoric Ireland, in Peru and China, in Scandinavia and Rome -- it has provided powerful metaphors of survival and rebirth to help us face the apparent death of the natural world and look on to the season of new growth to come. Many of the customs we associate with Christmas have their roots in pagan winter solstice celebrations from northern Europe, where the longest darkness and deepest cold brought the greatest fear. Thousands of years ago in pre-Christian Scandinavia, a giant oak log was burned to symbolize strength and endurance, as the household gathered around the fire in the face of darkness. That image of the fire on the hearth still is central to our idea of Christmas. Traditionally the log that celebrated Yule -- a name probably derived from an old word for wheel, as the wheel of the year turned -- was big enough to light 12 days of feasting. A fragment would be saved to light next year`s log, symbolizing continuity and rebirth. In Celtic myth, the winter solstice was the time that the Oak King -- who had grown weaker through the fall, just as his sacred trees lost their leaves -- revived to do battle with his evergreen twin, the Holly King. Holly long has been associated with European midwinter celebrations, because it remains green and holds it berries at a time when so much of the forest is gray or brown and seems dead. Later, as a new metaphor arose for light and rebirth, the holly`s berries, like those of mistletoe, came to be associated with the blood of Christ. Evergreens, with their apparent ability to defy winter`s death, long have been sacred in Northern European traditions. At the solstice, evergreens were decorated with offerings to beckon the return of the growing year. After the Middle Ages, the custom began to move indoors, and it entered American tradition after the German-born Prince Albert introduced the Christmas tree to England in 1841. All these customs speak to what the old pagans saw -- the forest dying, the world darkening and closing in and threatening their lives with its deadly cold -- and what they deeply hoped: That underneath it all, the world was still alive. Of course it is. The yews in the front yard may still have red berries, if the birds haven`t gotten them. Cones at the top of pines are ready to fall and drop seeds. Many plants -- such as lilacs -- already have formed the buds of next year`s flowers, bundled up and waiting to bloom. The dead-looking trees that dropped their leaves were merely conserving energy and moisture as they hunkered down to nap. The compost pile may not be cooking, but the busy little microbes are still there, waiting for warmer days. The ground may be frozen at the surface, but a few inches down, roots still are alive and bulbs already hold next year`s tulips and lilies. Many animals are hibernating. But others will be awake all winter, scurrying under the snow or visiting the bird feeder. Unlike ancient pagans, we have science to tell us that the solstice is simply the day when the Earth`s axis tips us farthest from the sun, so the sun appears lowest and weakest in the sky and has the shortest arc. As the Earth tips back, the days will inevitably grow longer. Knowing is one thing. Real comfort comes when we deck our houses with evergreens, light fires and candles, feast with our families to banish cold and dark, sing songs, worship together and tell sacred stories of hope and rebirth. But we can also seize a couple of those fleeting hours of midwinter sunlight to take a walk. Catch the glisten of a berry or the flicker of a bird. Look for the subtle swelling of a bud. Spot the tracks of a field mouse. Remember where we planted the crocuses. Scatter, perhaps, a few seeds of some sturdy native wildflower on the snow, which may float them down to the ground as it melts and keep them moist to germinate in the spring. There is no finer promise of better days to come. Let us find peace in the ancient promise of better days to come.

Peace and joy to everyone.  There is more to come.....

Mother --- the next chapter

It has been awhile since I blogged about my mother.  She celebrated her 85th birthday on November 15th - alone in Yountville - how she wants it, because she doesn't want any of her friends to know "how old she really is".  We now respect her wishes (paranoia) and don't even think of throwing a party to celebrate milestone occasions like turning eighty-five.  

My heart is in turmoil - emotions all mixing together inside - frustration, anger, helplessness, anxiety, admiration, and a deep longing to know that she is safe and not knowing where to start and what to do. 

Mother is still living in the little house we purchased 2-1/2 years ago when she moved from the big house.  My long-time blog friends may recall that Mother is functionally blind as a result of macular degeneration.   She has recently been diagnosed with glaucoma.  Macular degeneration destroys the central vision - glaucoma, the peripheral vision.    It is now a matter of time - unless they can halt the glaucoma.   I fear she is not taking the eye drops - recently she stopped taking the blood pressure meds (AGAIN) and had the 200/250 BP at her appointment.

Mom is getting weaker - less able to get around - more tentative.  Since she cannot see, there are many things that just aren't as clean and tidy.  The fridge often contains spoiled food - and not just a small amount either. 

She has an incontinence problem and often you get a whiff of urine.  She doesn't eat properly and often has diarrhea - you can imagine the result of that.   She is often confused and yet, she has adapted so well that unless you spend a bit of time with her you would not know.

She refuses to have a regular cleaning person - let alone a weekly companion/housekeeper.  She is competent and yet is on the edge.  There is a wonderful person that I pay to go visit once a week or so to help with bills and such - but that is touch and go (Mom has no idea she is paid).  Mom really likes Cathi but is fiercely guarding her independence; I understand as well I can from my 20 years younger perch.  "Independence" - what is that?  Safety - Health - Companionship  - I am so conflicted.  

 

It is very difficult - time to ponder the next steps.  Any thoughts??

PS Mom can afford household help - a companion, etc.  So it is not about money.  :_(

The Annual Vigil

i am in San Antonio with youngest son, his wife and our new grandbaby, a beautiful little girl named, Raegan. It is wonderful to be with them, to hold and love this baby; to witness the blessing of my baby parenting; to be in the warmth and to have a break from my familiar surroundings. (I am unable to upload photos as I only have my IPad with me, pics to follow.)

Today marks seven years, seven years ago this day was the last 24 hours that Tom was drawing breath on this earth. Granted, he was in a coma, but he was here, he was warm and we were together. The nearly four days from November 11 to 14 in 2004 remain a blur.

There are things that stick out in sharp relief, inscribed in thick, indelible lines within my very heart.

When I walked into the trauma room in the ER that night, he was on a gurney, his clothing had been cut-off and he was intubated. They let me stay - I quietly stood at the end of that gurney and held fast to his big toe. The floor was littered with the detrius of their life saving actions. I held hope in both hands. Thirty minutes later a nurse took me in a little room and gently told me "it doesn't look good". I clutched hope more firmly and went to ICU.

Looking at the MRI for the first in the early pre-dawn hours - my dearest sister-friend Lisa by my side - it was so clear, the right side of his brain was gone. Still I hoped. i looked at those MRI pictures a half dozen times and hope began to crumble. Removing the breathing tube was the ultimate step to freeing him, but oh so difficult to do and to watch.

Laying beside him in the hospital bed, recounting our meeting, our courtship, our marriage, our love and our lives - this was his last night on earth. In the middle of the night, Cheryl, our nurse came in, gave us a smile and said, "I don't know what you are talking about, but every once in a while his heart rate jumps up there.". We were on the same wave length. Later she returned and as she was leaving, she turned around and said, "enjoy his warmth". I didn't totally understand then - I do now. I will forever feel grateful that on his last night on the planet, I slept in his arms, holding him with all I am or ever will be.

So, here I sit in the kitchen in San Antonio, listening to baby gurgles, feeling sadness mixed with such gratitude and hope. Once again touching the wound that will never quite heal. Memories assail me this morning. There is more to come.........

The "L" Word

OK, OK - I'll bet you thought I had taken a slow boat to another continent.  Well, in some ways I did.  I have so many things to write about - the one I want to share tonight is that I am in love.  Yes, that's right, the "L" word.  I also am loved.  That's right the "L" word.  It is amazing. 

The guy and I have walked a path the last 15 months - singly, together - whatever.  We have done the dance - the dance in happy; the dance in the rain - the dance that is scared beyond belief (we both know what it is like to lose the love of your life); the run forward - quick, run back. 

Tonight, I can say with a glad heart and a sense of contentment - we love one another.  The kind of love that one holds carefully and with joy.  The kind of love that is steady, and feels oh so true. The kind of love that acknowledges the preciousness of life.

Right now, we are in the vigil-time of the loss of our spouses - he on October 27 (14 years) - me on November 14 (7 years).  We talk about it, cry together, comfort one another and give each other space to be lost in our memories.  And through it all - we are here in the blessed here and now. 

I have so many things I want to write - I hope each of you are well - I send my love.   In my darkest hours I never thought the sun would shine again and I certainly never imagined that I would say the "L" word from the bottom of my heart.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy.  One thing I know for sure - Tom wants me to be happy.  There is truly much more to come.