Lunch and Brown Pants

Two great and fun things happened yesterday. I went to lunch with some friends from high school and I bought some brown pants. I know it doesn’t sound like much but it was a great pick me up and fun. There hasn’t been too much fun in my life lately everything has been too much work, so a different experience was nice and I needed brown pants. Since Christmas is now past, I seem to be feeling better. Was I dreading it that much? I wanted to enjoy it more. I don’t know what happened to me other than grief. Yeah I will blame it on that for now and not the fact that I may have been hormonal. Whatever, I want 2011 to be a good year. I will still grieve, but I feel like I passed a milestone in the grieving process.

Today is such a beautiful day and I know I sound chemically imbalanced and I might be right now. I surely feel off kilter and not myself. Usually when I blog it is how I am feeling at that moment or the moments leading up to that one. Today I am in good form and so I blog about it. In a few hours it may not be this way. I like roller coasters well enough but this is ridiculous. I want to set a new pattern for normal but am unable to do this yet so while in transition, I blog. I am excited to get back home to pick up where I left off getting ready for a move in my life. I am now feeling energized again and anxious to work again. The blobs are gone for now, so I need to get productive while it is cleared you know a turn in the weather has happened. I know it will rain again, so I want to do all I can now and not save for a rainy day.

I listened to a song yesterday and heard the words. This is a breakthrough for me since everything on the radio and television and even some conversations have been bla, bla, bla in my ears. I won’t tell the person I am talking to that is what I hear, I just smile politely and agree mostly. It is strange how my listening skills have been affected. I guess my mind has been so distracted a fog set in. I tried to read something for this new job I will be doing and it was all foggy and I couldn’t comprehend much. I really thought I needed to pass on the job since it wouldn’t be fair to try to train me for it while my mind just isn’t working right. I think if I read it today, I may comprehend it. I hope I do at least, because I know I am not an imbecile and all this forgetfulness has been making me feel this way. I may be reengaging again in life. Ok I know I have said all this before probably, but can I have my moment of hope, please. I feel like something is unstopped and I am going forth.

I got my brown pants on, my computer in my lap and say to the world who knows I hate math, 12x12=144 (ok yes I checked it on my calculator so I didn’t look too stupid and I was correct). I feel great today more like my old self. Was it the lunch, the brown pants or just the right time? Yes God brought all these together for my good because I love Him and want to be healed and move on. I have so much to do in my life and I cannot be stuck in the mud. There are lots of wonderful things coming to our family this year and I have to get my act together. The joy of the Lord is my pleasure and my strength today and I want to keep this with me at all times. Have a wonderful day to all my friends who keep tabs on me through this crazy blog I know my day is blessed and I like forward progress.

Lazy Grief

Ok so yesterday was a bad day and most of today was the same. I started out blobish but perked up towards evening. I am kind of like my own weather system right now. Today I was partly cloudy with a chance of clearing skies tonight. Tomorrow I predict blue skies, with a slight chance of pop up afternoon showers but all in all it should be a beautiful day. I just never know when or where a thunderstorm may pop up causing my life to rain.

Today I also started reading a grief book I said I wouldn’t read but promised a friend I would read. It turns out I am tracking fine with this grief stuff. I cracked up at the laziness of grief part which is how this book describes my blobishness. I tend to prefer my description since it so accurately pinpoints my exact lazy blobby feelings. If I say lazy it means I don’t want to do a thing but laze around eat or watch TV but, blobbing is the act of being unable to move like you normally can. You are in a sort of trance and you just ooze from one place to another not knowing or caring how you got there. You are so apathetic to anything and everything around you and although a TV is on, you don’t really watch it or soak it in the same with reading a book. Another important thing to know is that oozing is different than leaking. To leak means you have to feel, oozing means you feel nothing.

Ok, so it isn’t Shakespeare or rocket science, it is only the truest form of how I feel some days. I want to get the clearest picture on it that I can and I don’t know why it matters.  I hate to blob, I feel so useless, unconcerned and so removed from the world, I am desensitized for awhile I guess. Are we supposed to wallow a bit, I haven’t gotten to that chapter yet if it exists, but sometimes the urge is so strong, you just have to dive in. I have to say as the day and evening wore on and I spoke with my son, my spirit picked up a bit. I will try to do better tomorrow.

The good news is I am doing it my way and I haven’t given up on God, I just can’t talk some days because of the melancholy, but I think to Him. I am not yet at the mad at God phase and don’t know if I will get there. Ok so I question Him, but I am not mad, I’m just saying maybe if He would have done things another way, like my way, things may have had different results. Then again I am not omnipotent, and I can’t see all the ramifications of my actions so He probably is right. Ok God your way, I know you can’t mess me up, only I can do that. Lead on and lead me not into blobishness too much, it is icky. You say I have to rest, well okay if that is your word for blobbing. That book says a lot about giving me permission to do things and I will heal properly. This is the hardest part about all of this allowing me to focus on me. I had been accused of being selfish a few times and have tried to be the opposite, but still it follows me. I don’t want to selfishly indulge myself in what I want or need, it seems trivial. Gross now that sounds like I am a martyr. The balance is a hard place to find here is all I am saying. I am unaccustomed to focusing on what I want or need and this strange place is an enigma. I intend to sort it all out, eventually at my perfect pace.

Grrr

Christmas came and went I had about as much joy as I could stand. How awful that sounds but it is true. It is like wanting something so bad for Christmas and Christmas morning arrives and you get everything but what you really wanted. Then your best friend calls on the phone so thrilled because she got your dream gift from her parents for her Christmas present. It is your job as her best friend to be happy for her but you are too sad and disappointed for yourself to get overly jubilant about it. That is the way I felt at Christmas this year. I really wanted to still have my husband and the dreams we had no matter how silly they seemed. All the Christmas trimmings and family distractions couldn’t take that deep seated droning of want from me this year. It's reverberations were so loud that it deafened me to the angelic host around me, my family. I felt as though I had an out of body holiday experience, I was here, but not really present more robotic than anything else.  I hope for next year to be better. 

I don’t like the thoughts I am having, they seem so ugly. I am jealous and completely envious of older couples I see. I really believed we would grow old together and see our grandchildren grow up. At my son’s house I was reminded that he will graduate from Pharmacy school in May. This will be the next “you have to be off work” event we will miss together. Steve pushed our kids to get their education and all of them have attended college and two have graduated and the other three will graduate at their God appointed perfect times. We attended every graduation Ryan has had and this will be his last, and Steve will miss it. These are the things that hurt me hard right now, events we will miss together in the lives of the children we created together.  I don’t like to dwell on these thoughts, but they are facts in my life right now so if I visit them a few times before they happen, it may not sting as much at the time of the actual event. This is how I got through the beautiful song my boys wrote about their dad. I listened to it so much that I don’t cry when I hear it now, I just appreciate the sentiment and the love my boys have for their dad.

Steve has attended so many important dates in our family’s history such as kindergarten, sixth grade, high school and college graduations and most Boy Scout, and almost all the Eagle Scout ceremonies too. He has attended Josh and Amy’s wedding, Ryan and Shannon’s wedding, and the birth of our first grandchild. He attended most every ball game, and drama function in church or school. He will be sorely missed at the rest of our college graduations, the rest of our upcoming weddings and the births of any grandbabies God blesses my family with. The hole will be huge in my heart and my side will be empty without him there to walk with me. I miss holding his hand during church or walking down the street. I miss him driving me places and holding the door open for me, or shielding me from the cold and rain. He was my sidekick, my companion, my bodyguard and a part of me that is missing. In our vows the two became one; well I am definitely walking crooked right now without him. I am having phantom pains of him and feel for him there only to look to my side to realize he is not there.

I am glad to be home with mom and dad but sad too. I love that they are still happily married over 50 years now quite a wonderful feat these days. The part that makes me sad is they are what I guess I tried to model my life on and now that is taken from me. I have to adapt and move on, but I am angry that part of my life is over and I had no say in that. It was snatched from me, sure I had some warning, but it was like someone in a coma warning. You visit every day and the one day you can’t go for your visit they wake up then go back into their coma. This is a huge overhaul of my existing way of life and will take a lot of adjusting and adapting and this old dog just wants to sleep right now. Grrr leave me alone, I feel grumpy and just need my space. I feel as if I could scream or just run but I know I can’t so I will hold it in some more. It won’t do me any good anyway, my throat will get sore, and my legs will tire.

Good grief my eye Charlie Brown. There is nothing good about this I will say to anyone who cares to listen. It is ugly, smelly, dark and dirty and bad. Bad grief Charlie Brown would be more appropriate. Who coined such a ridiculous phrase? Grief is very much like having a boil and looks like it too. Poor old Job had more grief than I would ever want to deal with so I guess I better be quiet and accept my good grief. I am not having fun at all right now it is too much work. I am trying to work through every dimension of it at a quickened pace to put it behind me, but that doesn’t work. There are no cliff notes here so I will have to read the whole book. Grr, once again I want to growl.

I have so much to do when I get back home, so many things I don’t want to get back to doing. It is much like coming off vacation I guess. I am already focusing on what I have to do. I know I can get it done with a little help from my friends and family. I want to rush everything so it will be behind me and I can move on and mourn at a later time, but I don’t think God will allow that. I have to go through at my specific pace and my impatience gets in the way sometimes and I growl. I apologize to anyone I have growled or snapped at. I wasn’t myself at the time. I plan to be myself again real soon, but God may have other plans on that too so stay tuned. I will get out of this with God’s help of course.

Celestial events

I watched the lunar eclipse this week. I thought my dad would wake me up for it, but it was just another night where I couldn’t go to sleep so I stayed up. My daughter Mary stayed up with me to watch with me. I know there was a lot of hype about it being an eclipse, but I just wanted to see it and make another memory. The last memory I have of a lunar eclipse was with Steve. I don’t remember what part of the country he was driving through, but he and I watched the moon together on the phone, while it eclipsed. It was so exciting and we felt closer to each other that night than the many miles which separated us. It was fantastic to be able to witness this event together from who knows where he was. It was pretty surreal as we marveled at the vastness of space and the smallness of us. I don’t know the exact date but it was a lunar eclipse and it was on a Wednesday because it was our ladies prayer group night. The day is unimportant but it was a good memory and this eclipse will be one as well.

Dad got up soon after the shadow started creeping across the top of the moon. Mary and I were already outside sitting on the swing enjoying the beautiful view. It was like our own private planetarium complete with seating and perfect lighting.  Had I been back in Selma, I would not have been able to see such a clear sky due to the cloud coverage I have since been told. We also saw a more unusual occurrence than the eclipse that night. We witnessed my mother stumbling out of the door to view this once in whatever event with us. Well I don’t think it was actually her choice, my dad prodded her to get up. It took her a few minutes to appreciate the beauty of the night sky with us. She kept asking is it there yet, and as soon as the moon was covered she left and so did dad and Mary. I stayed for awhile after just to enjoy the show and the silence.

It was a special event according to the weather men, but to me just an opportunity to share something quiet and special. How often do we get to view an event like this together? Until tonight we had lived apart and I never knew that they (dad) were ever interested in sky watching. I will admit I thought a lot about Steve during the eclipse and our last time viewing one, but I now have a fun, new memory. I can enjoy both of these memories the next time a lunar eclipse comes around.

Since that eclipse I have been pretty melancholy. All the talk of loved ones, family stings me. I see people shopping together and I have tried to avoid the stores. I have seen several things Steve would have loved, I have gone to call him more often than normal, and I just miss him a lot. I was really down yesterday and wanted to take a nap. How impossible is this in a house full of people? Very impossible. I lay down then mom came in, then my niece’s and sister, daughter and the dogs pretty much in that order. We had the parade, then the talking and tickling time and the rolling on the bed.  It was pretty funny and wonderfully distracting and I enjoyed it. After my sister left with the girls, my other sister came with her grandbaby, Gabe who also was such a fun, adorable distraction. So I guess I am saying, it was a good decision to come home, because the sting can’t last as long.

Today will be another pleasant day; I will be babysitting my grandbaby with my sister who has her grandbaby too. It will be a Memere night for us. I am excited and of course my niece’s will be there to play too. Four kids, ages one and half to four with enough energy to light this fair city tonight and put all of us all into a deep slumber too. I hope I will be able to hear Hannah if she wakes in the night. I will make it through this with family support and distractions. I feel a bit lighter and joyful this very moment, so I decided to blog before I funked out again. Christmas will come regardless of my emotions it is up to me to enjoy it and I choose to celebrate it with my head high, or low, it will be another celestial event. I will be looking up at the right time. Thank you Lord, for the wonderful gift of your son.

Land Mines

I left to go back home to Lousisiana yesterday. I picked up my daughter in Mobile so she could spend time here with us over the Christmas holidays too. It is impossible to be in the same town as my darling Hannah, the light of my heart right now, without seeing her, so we all had a nice lunch together. My heart danced once again, and lightened up quite a bit from my downward spiral on Saturday. And yes it was great to see Ryan and Shannon too but they didn't sit in my lap like my Hannah did. She was too precious and loving to her old MeMere. Our time together though very short was just enough medicine to get me the rest of the way home without crying. Mary and I had some great time visiting in the car talking about important things in her life. I was beginning to feel lighter already.

We got to my parents home, they were at church decorating for Christmas service and we were able to unpack and unwind before more greetings and a possible breakdown. I did fine through the unpacking and then I spotted a decoration I had made of our entire family that set me off again. These things are like land mines, planted all over my life and they go off at the most ridiculous times over the most unimportant things. How can a gingerbread man be so lethal to the state of joy I am so actively pursuing right now? I do not want to mourn at Christmas. I want to dance and be merry in a clean field of sunflowers, not dance around land mines in the condition of my life right now.

Another mine went off this morning when my sister called the house. Steve always called here early in the morning and late in the evening and of course several times during the day on my cell. It just brings back so many memories of watching my mom’s expression at how many times a day we talked. I am glad we talked a lot now, but at the time it could be exasperating while trying to visit here with family and trying to pay some attention to him as well. No one can understand how alone he was and our conversations were many times to get him through a sleepy spell or a rough patch. I was pretty torn most times when he called but always answered and stayed on the phone as long as needed.

I am sure those were only the first of many mines to come at me, I feel like I am on high alert right now looking for them to keep from stepping on them. They hurt so bad who wants to step on one, right? The Lord reminds me walking can be painful while in recovery, but it must happen to recover properly and quickly, so bring them on I guess. I am wincing as I type this because I feel pain. I have something to look forward to today to distract me from the pain. My niece Aly, will be a pirate today in a play at school.  She is so entertaining, I expect I will enjoy my time with her and look forward to her performance. Her excitement is enough to lift anyone’s spirits.

I guess mines come in all shapes and sizes, some painful, some funny, some sweet moments with a friend. The key is not to look for the bad ones, I guess. So I will walk on, not looking down, looking up and hoping my day will be filled with the funny, wild and zany mines of my niece today. Who can tell what will happen, I will be with family, it is all good no matter what I step on right? If they won’t help me when I fall who will? I am hoping for the best Christmas ever, even though it should be the worst one ever for me. I am putting on my best face and putting my best foot forward so here’s to praying for the best possible outcome ever, Cheers.

Blah humbug

Wow today has really taken me by surprise. I am pretty much paralyzed by who knows what. I will say yesterday was a particularly stressful, emotional day. I didn’t think signing the papers for my restructuring of my house notes would be so hard on me. Don’t get me wrong, I am extremely happy and grateful to be able to stay here with these new lower payments until I sell my house. Those emotions mixed with seeing just my name on these papers without Steve’s through me for a loop. I rode a tsunami all the way to my house and then some. I stayed in my car for ten minutes trying to gather myself together to go inside to my friends who were visiting in my house while I was gone to the bank. It didn’t work too well I still broke down when I walked in the door.

I did most of my crying with my friend Steph, who was here helping me to go through and remove stuff from my house to stage it for selling. After my meltdown we got to work, another friend arrived and the three of us made great progress in de-cluttering my house. Of course this means we cluttered the shed instead and we were all sore and tired when I decided we had done enough for one day. I just didn’t have it in me to do anymore and I didn’t want to take advantage of my girlies too much. It was quite amusing watching us gimp around like old ladies. We did our best to laugh it off ending our day at the house of a dear friend celebrating her birthday. We all found ourselves getting sleepy much too early to call ourselves party girls that night. It was quite an emotionally charged day mixed with some physical activity, good company and food. All this made one heck of a sleep inducing concoction as we sat on the couch wondering why it was only 8:00 p.m when it seemed like 11:00 p.m. The soreness in my body was only outdone by the pain in my heart and I couldn't wait to get to bed to make it stop.

Another thing that set me to crying yesterday was receiving some Christmas cards addressed to only me. It was very startling to see the cards with my name only just like earlier that morning on the loan papers. It is all crashing down I can feel it. Today I just can barely move and feel as if I have been hit by a truck. I am just in a funk, like a dead zone and I am walking around like a zombie. It feels as if all the life has drained from my body, so instead of traveling back home today for a much needed visit, I will leave tomorrow instead, I hope. I just do not have anything left in my tank and it makes me feel great about my decision to go home for Christmas. I am in much need of some rest and relaxation right about now. I am dreading the drive because the effort to drive is enormous right now. My bed truly is calling me very loudly and just typing this is draining me. I feel like a wet noodle no really it is more like a gelatinous puddle sitting here blobbing and blogging. I have no energy  and this really stinks. I have got to pull myself together to have fun for my favorite holiday.

I am scrooged right now and feel so blah. Lord pick up my spirits so I can continue on in what I am supposed to do. I feel lost and unsure, and although there is no snow, I am cold and feel as though hypothermia is tugging at my soul. I want to stay awake for my favorite holiday, the night is so dark, the bed so comfortable, stay awake with me. Keep me awake this night, and tomorrow so I can see the warm morning light come into my soul to warm me. Help me feel the rays of your love from my family and your precious son, Jesus as we celebrate the greatest gift ever, the birth of your son. Bring joy to my heart and place it on my lips again as I greet my loved ones and sing hymns at our Christmas service this year. I trust you to get me through this dark night, I hear your voice I know your touch, thaw me out precious Father so I can feel again, the warm feelings of your embrace. Get me through this in one piece, please. My emotions pull me in too many directions, I feel as if I am torn to bits. All I want for Christmas is the peace and joy that Mary felt that first Christmas morning. Despite the chaos in her life, she had peace and joy and I know it is coming to me too.

Going Monk

I have a friend staying with me. She will help me to stage my house for selling. It is amazing to me how our brains work. I am supposed to go extremely minimalist and have a bed, one dresser (maybe) and one picture on a wall. This is how they do it in the real estate world of staging. What is fascinating to me is people will fill the space with their own things in their heads, not my things. I know this technique works, but wouldn’t people want to see just how much junk you will really put into a room? No one moves in and has just a bed and dresser with one picture, because I am well aware of all the other junk you will put in there. Well let’s fool them for a minute, later they will see just how much stuff they can cram into this house.

We fill our lives with so many things, mementos, decorative artwork, knick knacks, but do we really need it to live? We give gifts to people we think they will love and maybe they do, but it causes them work to have to dust around a knick knack or clean a glass from a picture frame. Life might be easier if we just bought people a need, like food or some other form of disposable gift. 

We are conditioned to want more things and gifts and I am realizing how stressful this is on us all. We have to buy the perfect gift for holidays, birthdays and whatever. Our homes need to become showcases of our financial success with all the trappings of accomplishment displayed inside and out. I think after all this sorting through God is showing me I need to go monk for awhile. This would mean a small place to sleep, less food and clutter and a smaller lifestyle. I say this as I plan to move more boxes into my shed to hide more of my necessary stuff from people who will want to see their things in my house (in their heads of course).

There is a saying less is more, maybe this is what I am doing and realizing monk is good for me right now. I already have the less money part down pat since I know how to stretch a dollar until it bleeds. Parting with some other amenities like the dust mites living off my knick knacks may cause me some allergic distress. I never was rich or busy enough to hire a maid, so I entertained dust bunnies, dust mites and a few other creatures in the hard to reach areas of my house. I am finding them now and think I might be able to live without them too. Who knows those three morning sneezes may be a thing of the past, bonus!  I will probably go through the boxes again when I leave and remove more clutter from my monkish life. I am not as attached to certain things as I once was.

I do know there are people concerned about me discarding Steve’s things too soon. Trust me, I have boxes of Steve, I have kept many things that remind me of him or gifts he bought me through the years. I still have my wedding ring too which I keep on my finger to keep him close. He will not be thrown out with the bath water. We have a lifetime of memories I hold dear to me. I am recognizing so many things I can live without right now, unfortunately Steve is one of those things. I never thought I could live without him our vows we took meant he was part of me and I him. I just didn’t realize I could live without a big toe until it was removed. So many people in this world feel the same way and I realize now that I am just a small part of this big picture.  I really am small and my self importance is falling away.

I have an important part to play in the heavenly scheme of things, but in the eyes of this world, I am just a little toe on the body and not really necessary. I am okay with that, because I have a secret the world doesn’t understand, it is my peace of mind about my life. If I didn’t get this loan to restructure our house payments, it would be alright by me. I would find another way to go and be good with that. I am becoming like a tumbleweed, wherever I go is a good place. If I have a nice house fine, but if I have a small comfortable place where I don’t have to pay someone to clean or I don’t have to clean as often, that is even better. I needed this place to raise my family and to house them when they come home. I realize I don’t need big anymore.

So goodbye encyclopedia’s on that bookshelf we had for years doing nothing but taking up space and all the rest of the books which sat there too. I don’t need you or the shelves you sat on anymore. You will notice I haven’t said anything about my craft room essentials. I have pared down those as far as I can, but like Steve’s tools, you just never know when I might need something and to do a job right, you need the right tools. I realize I need a creative outlet which is why I am blogging, but there are times I may feel like painting or making some gift to give to someone. I never know when that urge will hit so it is best to be prepared.

So today I go monk, we will stuff more boxes into the shed only to go through them again later and shed some more stuff probably. I feel so peaceful about releasing most of this stuff. The rooms are looking better and less like the home we occupied for so many years. This is the plan and I will stick to it at least until I find another place to put my stuff.

Shepherd me, please!

I wake this morning with the 23^rd Psalm on my mind as I awake feeling nauseous and sick of thinking about my house. I am feeling trapped and I could literally throw up my house issues of moving furniture, packing boxes, selling the house, moving away, whenever that may be. I need to visit home for a couple of weeks to just get away from here for a minute. The Lord is removing me from the bush I have found myself wrapped in and is insisting I rest my soul and wants me to lie down in some green pastures. He really is leading me through this shadow of my life and caring for me as only a shepherd/daddy can. I know he is leading me despite my own desperate attempts to bolt and control my life, and has gently brought me back to center and clear thinking several times. I am wounded and it is in my best interest to allow the expert to lead me.

Panic wells up in me as I think of my need to sell my house quickly so I can start to save money and not deplete what little funds I have.  At first I wanted to stay here so I don’t have to ruin my credit by leaving my house, giving me some breathing room. I was so excited about the restructuring of my loan for all of this and I sign papers soon on that, but suddenly I just got the urge to run. What is wrong with me? I trust God to sell my house in his time, he has worked out the details, so why do I now want things on my time again? Fear has entered and is trying to take hold of me and its shadow is casting darkness over me. As I write and realize this I see the Lord walking beside me covering me with his cloak, hiding me from the tall shadows of fear and panic.  Soothing me with whispers and the same loving words I spoke to my children in the night time when they woke from a horrible nightmare. It is only a dream and it can’t hurt you, I am here to protect you. I will not let anything harm you. Rest, go back to sleep and rest my darling, I will sit with you.

Yes I will go home, rest for a bit and start fresh in the New Year after the long night of 2010 passes and my daddy sits with me through it. I look forward to the attempt of not thinking even though I will be thinking, but I won’t be moving boxes or anything around. I am in the phase of house buying where you have found your perfect new house, but have to sell the old one first. Not that I have a new house to move into I will be with my parents for a time, but I will have a new life with new surroundings. Actually it will be a new house since Katrina took my childhood home and my parents are relocated to another one in another part of town. So yes, things will be new and different, if I can only sell this house. There I go putting I in there, Lord until you sell this house, I will live here. I admit, I am impatient and want to move forward quicker than you would have me to move. You are my shepherd and are leading me on the straight paths, to greener pastures.

I hear sheep are dumb creatures, duh, can I relate. I am not really dumb, just inexperienced and naïve. I need someone to guide me along and my spiritual head of my house has been taken. So Lord, lead on, I am not dumb, just a trusting sheep who really needs to be told right now when to eat, when to lie down and where to do all of these things. This grass I have forced myself to eat is awful, I want to throw up, I will allow you to make me sit in a holding pen, until this night is over and I feel better. I surrender the ropes again to you.

I think I am getting anxious to move back to my old home town. I have been away a long time and look forward to living near my siblings and mom and dad again. I never got to see them enough living away all these year so it should be a loving place to get my legs under me again. It is hard to believe I left so many years ago, wanting to leave and see the world. The world is a big place and I never saw as much as I wanted to, but I saw what I needed to. I started dating Steve in Guam and if I hadn't left my home town, I may not have the five wonderful kids I have. I was so blessed in all those years away, I truly left father and mother, and cleaved to my husband and had a wonderful life despite my homesickness for more interaction with my extended family back home.

My urge to leave was strong and necessary to my growth, just like the urge to go back is.I am just another prodical daughter going home. I hope I am wiser, I am stronger and have a smidge more understanding but I feel like I have an odor right now from my wounds. They are still tender and I hope not to offend anyone over the holidays by any melancholy. Holidays are holy days, sacred times to spend with loved ones, celebrating family, love and life. I do celebrate Steve's new life and his celebration in Heaven, but I feel left out and it really is hard to get happy about missing someone. I don't want to be the one to ruin it by the odor of grief on me. Lord do you have one of those pine tree car deodorizers to hang around my neck so I can blend in? I may need a box of them along with some tissues. How bout some pine scented tissues? Just kidding of course. I just remembered the sweet odor of you about my shoulders will be enough to mask any odor I may have. Baaa, baaa lead on Shepherd, I smell a banquet.

In Recovery

Ok I can’t be a gloomy Gus forever, I have to get on with it. I really am not so gloomy although the last few blogs may have appeared that way. I am just figuring stuff out, working it out on paper much like some pastor’s do from the pulpit. I am in no way a pastor though, but a person, in a bind, depending on God to pull me out and along. I have too many blessings to really be down, but sometimes you just gotta ride those waves, it is healing right? Pain is part of healing just ask a surgeon. He has to cut into you to remove the part that is broken. It doesn’t feel too good to be cut, but fortunately there is anesthetic for that. But in recovery, there is pain. Medicine will lessen it but never remove it, only time does that. That will be my new term for grief, I am in recovery.

It is 8 weeks since my Steve has died and I am still marking time in weeks.  I should say it has been 2 months, but 8 weeks seems to make it seem like it was a shorter time for me and it is much more precise I think. I will say the pain is less because it is not constant anymore, but it is sporadic and right under the surface. If I move a certain way, or allow my mind to dwell on memories of the past, or what could have been our future, there is pain. I am tearing up, then swallowing it back and pushing through. I have a friend who is adamant about me reading 3 grief books which helped him. I don’t want to read anything right now, maybe something that will cause me more pain, but I may humor him nonetheless. I actually can’t find the time to sit and read, well I could but I would much rather chase my tail, it keeps me reeling. How about that for honesty? I would rather be running from it.

The more I think about it the more it makes sense this new term recovery. After the procedure people are all your room visiting, uncomfortably lingering and feeling helpless. You are on the bed, the center of attention and you hardly remember who was there but you remember there was lots of noise. You receive flowers and cards and lots of love and medicine.  After a few days, the visiting slows up and you are alright with it because now you can get some rest and you don’t feel like you have to entertain and swallow back the pain. The quiet soothes you but then it gets too loud sometimes and you want the distraction of company again. The difficult process of rehabilitating your body begins. In my case it is my mind getting restored and perhaps my heart too. Recovery is always different for every patient. I am recovering at the pace my body allows according to the trauma I received.  I want to believe I was in good health before the procedure so I should recover nicely and rebound quicker. Everyone worries about me not following the doctor orders but I do. No one sees me during my alone time doing my crying exercises at great pain to my body. Trust me, I live with my doctor and he is on call 24/7.

Some days I want to say make me a bird Lord so I can fly far, far away. Didn’t Jesus say take this cup from me? Well I guess if that couldn’t happen for him, it definitely won’t happen for me. Who am I to think I am better than the most innocent? Some of my pain is self inflicted, I will embrace it and own up to it, some of it is just life and living on earth, I can embrace that too, but I know I can’t carry it all. I have to unload on someone, or something so I blog and I pray, then it gets released. Is this healing? It is for me, I am not crumpled up in a corner crying all day. People are worried I am not dealing with my grief correctly; may I ask what is correct. If we are all unique individuals, I am quite sure we don’t all have the exact same coping measures either. Trust me when I say I think I am doing okay.  I am supposed to have bad days, heck I had bad days when Steve was here. We all have days like that.  Please don’t wish bad days on me by thinking I am showing too good a face right now and expecting me to crack at any moment.

I am not all that fragile or dainty. I am a woman with five children. I have seen adversity, I have been through different kinds of pain, but pain is still spelled the same way and hurts no matter what. I come to this battle prepared and well seasoned. I loved Ma Ingalls on Little House on the Prairie. I read all those books and I loved her unbreakable spirit. She didn’t have grief books to get her through the hard times, she had what I have, God. He is the best counselor I know and he wrote the best book on grief and healing too. I am leaning on Him and depending on him to get me through all of this. He will pull through for me but I am an impatient child and want it all done now. I don’t want pain. I don’t want to do the hard work, I want to be at the end looking back but I have to go through because I am not a bird and I can’t fly far, far away. I am human and I walk and I trip and I fall. I am in recovery and I can’t run yet. It is frustrating, but it is a fact of my life. I know I will run again and that keeps me healing and doing what I need to do to get there. I could lie down and give up, but who would chase after my beautiful grandkids and tickle them silly.

I recognize some people may need grief books go for it. I am sure they are wonderful and very helpful please don’t think I am discounting their contributions to the healing process. Maybe I will be one of those people to write a book someday you never know, but I feel healthier screaming it out on paper, to my friends, or through the night, alone. It is not a bad thing to do some of this recovery thing alone and important that I do it this way. I need to learn to be independent because in the end it is only me. Does this seem selfish, not allowing others to help me do this? Maybe, but certain things only I can do and feel comfortable doing. I accept God giving me the distractions of family and friends because they are the goodies I need to make recovery fun and joyous.  These are the people who bring you a burger instead of the terrible hospital food and bring a sense of normalcy into your recovery room. I love my accountability friends and family who bring me back to earth and catch me up on what has happened in the world since I checked out.  They also make me get off my bottom and leave my house and go into the world and socialize.

So when asked “How am I doing” I will say I am recovering and no truer words can be spoken from me right now. By the sheer grace of God I am making a full recovery and will be stronger and better than before. I don’t want bad days, but they will be a part of this, I don’t want a setback either so I will take my medicine and do what the doctor orders. Recovery is just the right word for me now.

Bookmark Me

I think better when I am alone, without distraction, and I am more creative too. I thought I was called to the one thing in life, being a wife and mother and I had fulfilled that purpose. I also believe somewhere in that I lost myself and the dreams I had as a teenager. I have been a creative person more or less and have used that talent by creatively stretching a meal, making costumes and props for the kids etc. Since the kids have left the nest, the house has been quieter and I had begun a discovery process on me. I needed an outlet and needed to reconnect with my earlier dreams in life. Steve pushed me to think about my dreams and he wanted me to write them down and put them in a box on his dresser. It took a long time to write one down, because I had pushed them out of my mind for so long, I gave up on them. Now I have been thrown into life again, and I will have to put a bookmark in my life again. 

My process began after Hurricane Katrina. I had helped my parents go through their house to salvage what could be salvaged. I ended up with some water stained pictures which looked to be trash. During my prayer time one morning I saw something new in those nasty photos and ran with the idea that I had found some beautiful art in that mess.  I had been in process over these last years trying to get those photos out to be seen by the world. I found them to be fascinating and beautiful and thought perhaps others might too. I called them Marsh Manna. I created a website, began to have them framed so I could display them somewhere if an opportunity presented itself. As with so many things in our life, money was an issue in getting those to where I wanted them and it was a slow process. I won’t blame it all on that, my inexperience and fear of rejection played a major roll too. Who am I to start a business? Was God setting me up to start me out? I was the failure, not God on that. I fear I may have dragged my feet too long and missed some opportunities there, but I hope others will crop up. I haven’t given up on Marsh Manna yet, I just put it on the back burner for now because I have to get a real job now.

Steve was so supportive of me once he understood and saw what I had seen in those pictures. He constantly threw money at me because he wanted me to succeed at being a business woman and doing something creative. I didn't like the marketing part of it because I am afraid of rejection.  I am against anything that has numbers or math related jargon so my feet tended to drag a bit on the business part of it. I just enjoyed the creative part. Steve encouraged me and tried to motivate(rush) me but I second guessed myself the whole time and self protected with excuses as to why it took so long. I don't think I was confident or knowledgeable enough to take Marsh Manna to the next level fast enough for Steve. My marsh manna revelation came after his heart attack and during his recovery time. He was in his "borrowed time" frame of mind, where life needed to be more accelerated. He felt like everyone moved in slow motion and there was no time for it. I felt I had disappointed him by taking so long to get it to a place to be seen by others and he didn't realize how inexperienced I was. Right now I don’t trust myself or have the self confidence to try something new and risky in the situation I am in so it will sit on the back burner until I can get myself upright again. Besides, I lost my place in the whole forward progress of it so put another bookmark, please. 

I suppose the most disconcerting thing for me is thinking about myself and what I need or want to make ends meet. Steve was our breadwinner, I just cooked it and now my mad momma skills are outdated and useless to helping me find a job. Sure I could babysit or clean houses again but will that cover all my bills? At least I don't have to worry about feeding my army, or clothing them  school supplies, or gas to and from sports fields etc. I can live small, it is only me and Millie. This is a hard adjustment for me to make. I no longer have to put the heat up high to keep others warm at night, now I can turn it down lower so I can sleep more comfortably. I am no longer thinking on Family time, it is now Single Widow time and that is a big adjustment to my way of thinking. I won't stop thinking of my kids totally, but they are adults now and they are standing on their own so now it is my turn to stand.

I saw a movie this year, Eat, Pray, Love. I thought I didn’t like it because I would never do things the way she did, but as I reflect on it, I am in that situation now. I am grieving and looking for my way in life too but I am unable to fly to all the exotic places she did, so I will sit here and surf the internet. My mom had an interesting reaction to that movie because she could not understand how anyone could feel so lost and unsure. I did understand those thoughts in the movie and they are with me now for sure. I won’t eat more but may taste more. I will pray more to God, because I know He exists and I don’t have a problem there. I hope to love more (not the promiscuous way) and who knows, maybe end up writing a book in reverse called I Love to Pray and Eat. Stranger things have happened, the pet rock, need I say more? I have been looking for my niche for a while now and I need to find it quick. Time is not on my side anymore.  Lord show me where you want me and train me in the ways I am to go. Remove the bookmark, I want to finish this book.

Down in the Mouth

I honestly tried to blog yesterday, after everyone left from our beautiful ThanksChristmas weekend, but I really didn’t have anything in me to lift a finger to type. I was emotionally drained and the effort to type too strenuous a task at the time.  I sat at the computer, checked a few emails and Face book until my computer went down again and I even tried to watch television, nothing worked so I went to bed very early. For two weekends in a row I was revved up with a list of projects to attend to and now, my sense of purpose and urgency is over. Maybe I will relax more, perhaps think more, the quiet seems much louder now than it did a few months ago.

I began this year having to have surgery on my upper lip, a basal cell decided to take up residence there. The blessing being while attending to that the doctor found a melanoma on my arm and that was removed before anything bad could happen. The first part of the year, I was very aware of the scar on my upper lip, but it wasn’t the scar as much as the new dead sensation there. Part of my lip and face was numb and I felt like after you come back from a numbing at the dentist pretty slobbery and silly. I felt like I was drooling and drooping when I ate or smiled and wondered if I would ever smile like usual again. Oh yes, I smiled, but it was not the same smile, it had a scar and a droop. I kept indoors and to myself a bit while I tried to get a grip on this situation. I wasn’t as self conscience of the scar but mostly it was about the functionality of my lip whether it was up or down when I smiled. I consider the scar a battle wound and move on. I am happy to report my smile is functional and more in control now.

The second attack on my mouth occurred the week of Steve’s funeral. I got the most hideous painful sores in my mouth which eventually poured out onto my bottom lip causing it to act like a fever blister. It cracked and bled if I smiled. Talk about an attack on my mouth this year and my smile. This year was especially hard on my smile and I seemed to focus on it a lot. I also took note that it was an attack on my mouth, not necessarily my voice, but the mouthpiece it comes out of. Trust me spiritual people out there, there was no angel, no burning coal placed on this mouth, but it does make me wonder why now when I am blogging instead of talking, I battle my internet service almost daily. My service goes down more now than it ever has, so much so that I have them programmed into my house phone so I don’t have to keep looking up their number. It has been fine all year until the week of the funeral and up until this very morning. I was on the phone with them again. I guess I have something important to say and don’t realize it.

I am just a bit sad and lonely today. I am grateful I can smile, though and will smile my way through this whole crazy situation. It will be like all the family photos ever taken, say cheese and a forced smile will appear on my face today. Okay what is the deal with saying cheese? Cheese does not even make me smile. My mouth doesn't even form a smile for cheese and I don't like it enough to smile about it. I don't feel like talking to anyone today, but I must go to the bank and do some errands and I will need to smile politely. I will think of Hannah, my beautiful granddaughter, and smile my little heart away. It is not their fault I don't feel like smiling so Hannah will be my cheese today. You can't see it, but I just smiled.

Millie

The kidscame in last night in shifts but Kyle came a day early. I had my prayer dog Millie outside as a menacing presence to keep some people from coming to my house to talk to me about their religion. You know who I mean, I won’t say anymore but I didn’t feel like being interrupted yesterday morning so Millie kept them away with her barking.  I heard that familiar bark of hers which told me someone I love is here. Mille is the best greeter ever and if God greets me half as well (just kidding God) I know I am in heaven. She truly heralds your arrival home and she does the same for my yard youngun’s as well. They get the official family greeting too since they are part of our family. They all marvel at her memory and the full effect of the greeting. Not only do they get the high pitched deep bark, but they are treated to a dash around the yard, sometimes into the field next door as she brags to the neighborhood my family is here. Then she stays right up under you for a long time to get all the petting she can from you to catch up on all she hadn’t gotten since last you left.

It was cute when Steve would come in late at night sometimes and he would try to hush her out in the yard so as not to disturb the neighbors. She did her greet and run, and then she couldn’t help it a small yippy, whiny bark would come out. It was fun watching her try to please her master but she couldn’t contain her joy, something was coming out of her mouth. It is funny how human dogs can be sometimes. She whined and rolled over and ran about the house jumping on the bed waiting for Steve’s hands on her body. She wanted her master’s touch so bad she was crazy for it. Steve always got the best greeting out of all the family and I enjoyed watching her.

She has given her first greeting  of the weekend already and will be rested up for the big meet and greet tonight when the rest come in. Due to her extreme greetings she will be exhausted and probably a bit sore; she is an old lady of eleven years after all. I only wish I could give half the greeting she does, it is loud but wonderful all at the same time. It truly makes you know you were missed and you definitely know you are loved. I wonder if she will be looking for Steve at all. After the funeral, she acted depressed but I am unsure if she picked up on my emotions. I am so glad to have her with me right now, I need her presence after the house quiets on Monday, and it will be hard. I am pretty sure she will have to listen to me cry again. But that is what she is paid for right? She knows everything and can’t tell anyone.

I said how funny how like human’s dogs are, but even funnier is how like God they are. My Millie is the most faithful person I know. She loves me unconditionally even when I get mad at her, she tries to wriggle under my hand to get my love and attention back. Not that God should ever bow to me, but He would. He loves me enough to lead me to forgiveness, to love again and release my anger, just like my dog does for me. She is the first to greet me in the morning and she wakes with me in the middle of the night and sits quietly with me until I go back to sleep. I call her my prayer dog because she sits with me in my prayer time and being alone I can’t have a prayer partner all the time so I use her. She is created by God too and she has brought comfort to me just by her near presence.  God has taught me much about His characteristics by Millie’s example. Other than her extreme, jealous love, she is faithful to her family, she listens well, and she is attuned to me. When I think she is sleeping, I notice she is looking for my next move trying to anticipate where I am going or what I am doing. Sure some of it probably is food related too, but I choose to believe she wants to please me.

There are the times she drives me crazy like when she goes out later in the evening on a cool crisp night and doesn’t knock on the door until 2:00a.m. I trudge to the door only to see her run off into the night again. She just wanted to see if I would answer the door and if I would still respond. Then I try to outsmart her and teach her a lesson by not answering when she knocks again in about twenty minutes. I lie in my bed and think she will stop and just settle down and fall to sleep outside on the porch, I will let her in when I awake in the morning. This never happens, and I don’t know why I keep thinking it will ever work. Millie keeps knocking, and knocking then pounding until I get up and let her in. Talk about your Hound from Heaven do you get the connection here? She loves me and our home enough to protect it and want to be inside it with me too. She stands watch over us and keeps vigil sometimes into the wee hours. I am grateful for her but sometimes inconvenienced by her. I am the old dog learning new tricks here, not the other way around.

So the testimony of Millie is by example. She never preaches a word to me, she just is and does and ever shall be my faithful companion until death. I will mourn her death when it happens too , she is so much a part of our family. Right now she is laying here on my bed sneezing and I say God bless you to her. God does bless her and me through her and I am so glad to say, he has taught this old dog a new trick or two. I want to learn more as I am sure I have so much more to learn.

The Last Present

I will never sell or pack away the last present I ever got from Steve. We celebrated my 50^th birthday this year (yes I am not afraid to admit that) by going to Gatlinburg. It sounds much more exotic than it was. Steve wasn’t too into it because he had to drive. He was a driver for a living and when he was off the road, he wanted to flop at the house, mostly. Maybe then he was starting to show signs of more health issues, or maybe it was him warding off depression again, I just knew something was off. Steve was not enjoying my birthday as much as I wanted him to. I felt guilty and miserable, like I forced him to be somewhere he didn’t want to be.  I lied to everyone and told them it was great. I just tried to make the best of it  and backed off wanting more scenic adventures and just enjoyed our time together at the cabin mostly. We had some good moments, but Steve wasn’t hitting on too much and this made me uncomfortable.

We wandered into some cute craft shops looking for presents for the kids. At the pottery place I saw many nice things and could have taken them all home with me. Steve told me to pick out something for my birthday present to remember it by. So my frugal self goes to the most inexpensive things first and he wouldn’t have it. He was trying to direct me to the bigger items and I wouldn’t have that. So the Goldilocks in me settled on a hurricane lamp in the middle price range to add to my collection  and it was just right. He thought I should have gone higher, I knew I shouldn’t so I was just right on that too.  So just recently I have taken the opportunity to use it and will use it through our weekend. This is the last gift he ever gave to me and I will cherish it forever. it is my new ThankChristmas tradition.

Steve surprised me many times with his presents, some more hideous than others. I say this because once he brought a paperweight, (maybe?) home to me. It was a block of clear acrylic with a shrimp in it. When he gave it to me he was so proud, he honestly thought it would make me happy and think of Louisiana. Really? I tried to give that thing away and he got so hurt. It was about the silliest gift he ever brought home from the road. Once when he came home he jumped out of the truck with a huge box of Hershey’s chocolate bars with almonds. These were the king sized bars straight from Hershey and I was so thrilled. This was medicinal so it was a gift I could use. Then he brought out from behind his seat a beautiful bouquet of a dozen long stemmed yellow roses. They were the most fragrant yellow roses I ever smelled and were so healthy and lovely. He said he got them a few miles up the road from a place he stops at to fuel up. I was so excited by my beautiful gifts one for the senses, one for the soul. Then he told me to wait there he had to get the rest of his stuff from his truck. He proceeded to pull out 7 more bouquets of roses each as lovely as the next all different colors. I had red, pink, blue, peach, and even multicolored roses and the weight of them in my arms was too much for me. Steve had to carry them in the house while I carried the chocolate and that first bouquet of yellow roses. I had never had so many flowers at one time before or since and it does one good to be surrounded at least once in life with roses. The house smelled wonderful and my spirits were lifted at the pleasant reminders of his love for me.

He could still surprise me. Many of the things he bought on the road for his mobile home (as we called the truck sometimes) proved useful. I am using a thermometer that was sent with part of his belongings at this moment to check the air temperature in my house. My heat pump is not doing right and I think I may have to call a repair man. He had numerous flashlights and blankets and I can’t tell you how many reading glasses and towels. The man had so many towels and these are another one of those stupid things we fussed about. I said to him, “Darling, we have over sixty extra towels in this house, what on earth can we do with all of them” And he always replied “Don’t you sell my towels in another yard sale. I better have all my towels in the house when I go to check on them” I had made around sixty dollars at a friends yard sale just selling them at a dollar a piece. Steve was not too happy about me selling his hoard of towels. I had quite a few to sell last weekend as I removed them from the space bag I had to store them in. I think I snickered a time or two while selling them. Sorry darling, but seriously, what do we possibly need with so many towels?

Idiosyncrasies, I suppose we all have them. Mine was my craft room and the constant need to add more stuff to it. When the bedrooms emptied out after the kids left, he accused me of making all of those rooms craft rooms. He would start to look for something and would ask which craft room was it in. I want you to know, I did spread out after the kids left, but not to every bedroom with the crafts stuff. Steve loved to tease me and give me a hard time like I did with his towel collection. Once again, I understood my need for new and different craft things because you never knew what I may pick up to do. His need for more blue towels I never understood, what on earth, unless he was planning on starting a public bath facility that I didn’t know about?

The presents you gave to me were wonderful Steve, and I cherish them all, except for the shrimp of course. This Christmas will be hard for me. It will be our first one without presents to each other. I am very sad about that. I don’t want to think on it too long but I will be lighting the hurricane lamp and I will be thinking of you and the wonderful "presence" you will have this Christmas. I am glad you are having the best Christmas ever. Mine will sure be different and I hope to make the most of it. I am grateful for the gift of you for 29 years and your "presence" will be missed this year.

Fresh Linens

I will tell you that I didn’t wash my sheets for awhile after Steve passed away. I can’t tell you why but it felt like I was clinging  to him until I couldn't deal with dirty sheets anymore. Another piece of him has left me like the closet space when I removed his clothes and used that space. Well technically I haven’t taken over the hanging part yet, it is still his sacred space with my minor encroachment still intact. In preparation for the ThanksChristmas sleeping arrangements, I have thrown, stuff in there to prepare for this weekend. After the weekend I will clear it all out, my clothes included. 

 I panicked yesterday I took my wedding rings off to put on some hand lotion. I got sidetracked by the doorbell and didn’t put them back on. I went into town without my rings on and felt as if I betrayed Steve. I want you to know that forgetting my rings is a normal thing for me to do. I have gone a few days before realizing I hadn’t put my rings back on but to do this now seems much worse, like I am glad he is gone. I want to have my rings on now more than ever as proof maybe that I am still married and I didn’t give up on us. I don’t know, I may need some couch time on this issue.

I can only tell you I am more careful and clingy with my rings, and to any little memento I find. I had to let go of so much in the sale last weekend that it pains me maybe to let go of anything else. This is why I guess I cried so much the other night. I was mourning losing his stuff too. Pieces of Steve are leaving our house and I know it is a good thing to detach and downsize but right now I am trying to get my hands on anything he touched. I actually wanted to have his pillow from the truck and his blanket that he slept under more than our own bedding at home, but that stuff never got back to us. It is okay I guess because I think my daughter and I were going to fight over his blanket.

Why can’t I just be satisfied having one thing like just his wedding ring, why am I feeling and obsession coming on to want all his things?  I certainly didn't want all of them while he was still alive. I was constantly trying to reposition them out of my sight or out of my house because I couldn't understand why he wanted to keep some of his junk. Psychologists everywhere are probably screaming right now saying “Because you are trying to piece him back together and trying to get your old life back”. So why does it hurt to get rid of something? It is just a thing. I am not married to a thing.

I am looking at a picture of him right now, the skinny young man I met a few short years ago. I see a very healthy young Marine and  remember the dreams I had of being old with him in rocking chairs with our grandkids. Of course I never saw him with that old beard he tormented me with in these latter years. He just had white hair, with the same twinkle in his beautiful blue eyes and was smiling with contentment while holding his grandchild. It was when he grew that beard and I questioned him about his attachments to  the ugly thing, he said it was in his dreams of us rocking our grandkids and they were tugging at his beard. I guess both of our dreams were wrong. We can't plan our lives.

It is amazing how blind love can be. I never saw it, or knew how to define it, but Steve suffered with serious depression during our first years of marriage. It wasn’t until we were married twelve years we found out the cause of his depression. It was a hard time for me and the kids. Steve was crazy about me, I knew that, but couldn't ever understand why he didn't want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him. I didn't realize he was escaping, much like I have set up barriers in my mind now to avoid thinking about reality. Steve had much bigger issues to push out of his mind and he couldn't do it awake. He went to sleep so he didn't have to think. I am very grateful he didn't turn to anything worse like drugs or alcohol but it was still an addiction. It made him feel good not to battle the enemy of his mind. I can’t say it was an easy battle, but it was a struggle for him, but he did start engaging in life with us eventually and over time it got better.

Those were the bed war days; I hated our bed because Steve spent more time with it than with us. We had many an argument about that bed, and I never understood why the fascination to stay in it when daylight was burning away. It is funny, over these past few years since Mary has gone off to college, our roles have reversed a bit. When he was at home, he would get upset if I was still in the bed at 7:00 a.m. He had the nerve to accuse me of lazing in the bed. I believe he felt like I was exacting my revenge on him, paying him back for those miserable years he spent in bed. It was actually me just staying up later than when the kids were younger and staying in bed until I was done. I must confess, sometimes I let him think that way because he harped on me much like I harped on him. I told you I'm not a saint and I have since asked forgiveness for the few times I said "Good now you know what you put me through". Steve didn't understand eight hours of sleep and I am done no matter what. He was ready to play now and I wasn't. The roles were reversed, but I wasn't escaping, I had just become more worn out playing eggshell walking games for so many years.

After his first heart attack, it hurt him to sleep on his side anymore so he spent most of his time on his back. He complained that the new bed was uncomfortable, while I thought it was wonderful. This new bed was more mine than his now since I spent more time in it than he did. I think the bed rejected him but then again, I can pretty much sleep anywhere. It hurt me when he said his truck bed was more comfortable to him than our new pillow top mattress. I would still be in our waterbed if he didn't tsunami me so much through the night when he was home. I seriously thought this bed would be better for him. It was much higher and would help him getting in and out of it easier and it had a firmer mattress.  It is interesting that battle of the bed was never won by either of us.

 I will be getting rid of this big old bed before I leave here, it is too comfortable and way too big for me now. We had the stupidest things to argue about and the bed was something we argued most about. Because of this, I will be glad to be rid of it and just keep the lingering memories. I am glad to have fresh linens once again. It feels like a fresh start to a new release of his life. I guess I have released the sheets to be cleaned, and with this blog now it is my turn to wash up. Cleanliness is next to godliness.

Retesting

An imaginary ton of bricks weighs a lot and when they fall on top of you it is hard to catch your breath. Let me tell you what I mean by that. Last evening I was packing up some of Steve’s things, organizing them into a sturdier box. I sorted through the condolence cards and decided to read them again seven weeks post. I thought for sure I would be alright, but it really hit me like a ton of bricks and I couldn't catch my breath from bawling so much. Some of the cards from strangers were so kind and I was touched that they would take the time to send a card. I found that I was embarrassed that I didn’t remember who had cared enough to send us such sweet cards like it was my job to remember all this.  I found thank you notes which came in our funeral package, I think.  I got mad at myself because I haven't thought about them and realized I may never send one to everyone because some of the envelopes with addresses weren't here among the funeral remains.

Steve's obituary put me into a sobfest again. This was more torture than helpful, I think. Earlier that day I had thought about wanting Steve's obituary  to put into my bible and this started the repacking of Steve's things. I am amazed I had the presence of mind to put it all together in one place so I could stuff in a box somewhere. I don’t think I have cried that hard since the day of the actual memorial service. I guess this is what I get for having a day off yesterday. I had thought it had gone so well, and really I guess God rested me because I needed a good cry again since I have been stuffing my tears down until after I get my work done.

After I packed the box and put it away I sat down to watch a Christmas program last night. It made me cry all over again. I think I might be scared of losing it again at Christmas. I don't want to ruin my favorite holiday.  I keep throwing up barriers in my mind with distracting thoughts of house issues so I don’t have to think about the upcoming holidays.  This is why I want to be away from people and why I want to be around people. I know crazy, huh? I don’t want to be the sad one who people look at with pity about my awful holiday situation. The looks, the whispers, the attention is unbearable and makes me reflect back on my circumstances and then the self pity is right there trying to take hold again. I am fearful of wallowing in it because it is such a strong negative emotion that can really stall my progress.

Yes I suppose it could be a pride issue too, I am a proud woman and I am always the one who wants to be strong for everyone else. My parents brought me up to be that way. I remember being told several times that since I was the oldest I needed to set an example, so perhaps this is why I am so strong now. Throughout my childhood I hated those words because it usually meant I did something wrong, but now I see how it helped to strengthen me for the life ahead of me. Steve and I had some rough patches and my resolve to stick things out helped to keep us together and strengthened our relationship. So I am relying on that strength, developed through adversity and patient endurance to pull me along. It has become a part of me and my strength bound to the strength of my heavenly Father, has and will continue to get me through everything. This I know for certain.

Some people wonder about why they go through certain traumas. Some tests are harder than others, each test perfectly suited to the make and model of the person being tested. Just as we all have different unique fingerprints, I think our tests in life are the same thing, specifically crafted for us. I wouldn’t say God is up there playing with our lives like a chess game, but more like a loving Father throwing you into the pool to swim, after he has taught you the strokes of course. We need to learn how to swim, it is a necessary survival skill which is why our father throws us into a pool. He is always standing by coaching, encouraging and sticking out his hand when we need him. I think about some of the tests I have failed, or thought I failed. I went back to the books of life, studied more and waited for my retest. There is always an opportunity to pass and some tests take longer to pass than others. Some saints pass them very quickly but alas I am a chronic re-tester and I really think mom dropped me on my head a few times.

This test I have studied for several times. I can say this will be the third new beginning for me, the only difference being is this time I walk it alone. This test deals with trust and security of which I leaned mostly on Steve for over these past years. There were times Steve didn’t have a job, or was battling depression or some other issue, this is when I turned to God more and more. I removed my trust in Steve where it didn’t belong and put it on God. I said “God, as our one true spouse I am trusting in you to take care of our financial issues, job security issues and any other issues that comes up”.  Steve and I both did this and we released life's burdens to God to deal with and removed our misplaced security in the world to security in God only. During most of my married life, I looked to Steve to be my provider and should have been looking to God. When we finally removed our eyes from him and moved them up higher, things turned around for us. You see Steve looked to me for security also, nearly to the point of smothering me so we were an anchor around each other’s neck until we sorted it out. Then life became fun and new again, and the burden lighter.

I don’t like grief and I hated taking tests in school but they are a part of life. There are so many times I have grieved for different things or people in my life. A boyfriend broke up with me once and I tortured myself with sad songs so I could bawl my eyes out and feel sorry for myself. It was so ridiculous, but it was how a teen ager dealt at that time. I grieved when my grandparents died, it hurt a lot but I moved on too. I recognize that this is more personal and may take a bit more time, but it will not incapacitate me. Life goes on, people lose loved ones every day, I am not special in that. It is a part of life I must deal with and the sooner I deal with it, the sooner I can move onto the next level. The good news is I am moving and studying hard.

Gimme a Break

Why is it so hard to be motivated right now? My kids are coming, Christmas is coming, and my house needs selling what more motivation could I need? So here I sit, blogging my brains out again. My get up is gone again. I can only move boxes around the house so long, and then I need a break. I don’t normally take so many breaks, maybe they are emotional breaks and my body is in overdrive saying, you’re done for now, walk away, and regroup. I keep thinking how freaked out Steve would be to see my messy house right now. I will never lie and say I have always kept a clean house, but it looked much better than it does now. I can’t find anything anymore and it is a direct reflection of my brain right now.

I have managed to stack things that are super important to me and my direct needs in my bedroom, in a place I can easily access. So what once was a sanctuary is now a war zone. I am not multitasking as well as I once did, and this bothers me. I can focus on one big thing at a time. I once was able to talk on the phone and do mundane thoughtless tasks like washing dirty dishes or folding clothes and on good days play a game on the computer. Now when the phone rings, I have to sit down and visit with the caller or else I lose my place in this mess. I found a dirty dish in the refrigerator I guess I was bringing it to the sink while I was on the phone. It has been the hardest adjustment to me right now, sitting and talking through a call when I used to do so much of the boring tasks of life while on the phone with Steve.

You have to understand, Steve called me so many times during the day that it was hard to do anything else. It really was my job to be his lifeline so to speak. Our conversations kept him awake, kept him from extreme boredom and I suspect in his mind kept me from running off on him. Steve heard too many hard luck truck driver stories on the road about men married as long as we were or even longer than us, whose wives found other men or drugs while they were driving. He was insecure and I knew it, so we kept the lines of communication open all day and night, much like a truck stop. If you knew Steve, you know I listened mostly which is why I got so much housework done on the phone I guess. I didn’t listen as well as I should have and now I have to be fully engaged in the conversation. Well I suppose that explanation works for me. Deep down he knew I would never leave him, but he felt he was missing out on our life together.

Ok so now I am seeing the benefit to blogging it out. I know why I can’t talk on the phone and do other things, now we need to figure why I continue to feel like I am chasing my tail. I go from room to room, looking at the packed up boxes.  I am restructuring left over piles from the yard sale, sorting boxes to keep with me, boxes to put in the shed to store for my two youngest kids and sorting out stuff to stage a house for selling.  A friend offered the suggestion to use color coded stickers and to make a list with the key to it. My problem with that beautiful idea is I couldn’t find the list tonight or my shopping list for ThanksChristmas. I let it be okay and walked away but I am having issues with my memory. I used to pride myself on being a creative thinker who in her heyday would have thought about wearing an apron to keep up with the markers and tape I have been losing around the house. I can’t tell you how many times I laid them down and still can’t find them. I have resorted to face book to help me solve my issues. I type my exasperated status onto face book and voila my good friends think for me and give me the useful ideas I once could have thought of on my own. I do get by with a little help from my friends, don't I?

I haven’t begun the deep cleaning process yet. My family will just have to over look that and I’m sure they will. I haven’t even listened to one beloved Christmas tune because I haven’t given it a thought yet. This is my favorite holiday; I have to get motivated if not for me, for my kids and my little Hannah. I am hosting this event, I have a makeshift tree, some candles and presents in bags. You have no idea how low key my holiday decorating is this year. I have my closet crammed with my Christmas decorations and refuse to unpack a box in the midst of packing so many. I would love to indulge myself and get creative and deck my halls, but who has time when so much else needs to be done?

Is this my instinct kicking in, protecting me from being too overwhelmed? When I got overwhelmed Steve always said to me “How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time”. I want you to know it takes a long time to eat such an enormous beast. The meat is tough and I believe it is taking me so long that the meat is beginning to spoil. I have invited some of my family and friends to dine with me, and they have helped whittled him away somewhat, but after they leave, the big stinky thing is still here in my house, in my life!

Ok, I believe that is called anger and denial. I don’t like elephant, I never did it is too large a cut of meat for me. I would rather have a smaller animal, say a cow. I don’t want this in my life and forcing me to eat it is making me sick.  One of my favorite sayings is “that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” well it could also make you sick while building up immunities like when you have an immunization, fever or swelling occur sometimes. I know people who get sick from a flu shot, but it is a better sick than if they get the actual flu they are immunized against.

Denial says if I keep busy, I don’t have to work so hard at realizing this is reality. I am not much of a crier or else I would probably be sitting in my living room floor bawling right now. Instead, I turn in circles steady pressing on at the task of chewing the elephant, but taking more breaks than most people in the entire universe. My protective mantle, God, breaks me, so I can give myself a break. Perhaps this too is revelation from my blog today. Don’t get down on yourself, my beloved, take a break, walk away, regroup as the mantle draws tighter around my shoulders and I reach out for help on Face book. Friends, you are there for a reason and I appreciate your responses (hugs) when I reach out. I don’t have the time to jump in the car and I don’t have people in close proximity to me right now. So I say hooray for facebook, they help me get by with a little help from my friends. Hey I could be a commercial for them.

The Widow's Mantle

I had to get out of bed this morning, nature called Millie, and she called me. So I got up and let my prayer dog out into the cold morning air, then ran back to warmth of my bed. For that brief time, my bed had remained warm but I felt the cold cling to my face and I could feel it attacking, trying to get in. Many times I take a hot tub bath, my body just gets so toasty warm as I soak away the day’s weariness, then I get out, towel off and remain warm for a while before the cold infects me and I reach for my robe. The key is when my core temperature is regulated I am good. I give this example because it is how I feel under this widow’s mantle of God. He is my perfect core temperature, and to remove myself from it causes such shivering in my soul that I can’t stand it. I am unable to function properly. I begin to suffer hypothermia of my soul and am unable to think straight, act right, or even pray properly. My exposed parts start to go numb and then begin to darken.

I used the think the mantle was only here in my house and didn’t leave the house with me. I felt so vulnerable at the store the first time I had to venture out, until I realized no one was shopping there who knew me to speak a word of condolence to me. It was then I realized my mantle was on my shoulders and came with me like a shawl. I had envisioned a mantle like a heavy blanket but it isn't, it is more like a shawl much more portable and fashionable.  Last week was six weeks since Steve died and it was the week I was pushed back out into the world again. I enjoyed my outings into town, almost daring people to come up to me so I could test myself and my tear response time. God again was kind, I met a fellow widow and some people from church people did pretty well. I did notice that I pulled the mantle tighter around my shoulders when I felt like I would fall to pieces. It was all part of my reentry process and he surrounded me with safe people.  God knew what I could process and this week my circle may widen again.

I love the closeness of God right now, He is so warm and comfortable and I really think I could try to take full advantage of His goodness much like a spoiled child. Daddykins could I have a pony, I feel so lousy right now (as I curl up in his lap tugging gently on his beard).  You know the manipulation technique. I think my daddy would give me that pony but how would I feed it? This is a trap I must be careful to avoid. God is even protecting me from myself right now. I am protected under this mantle, but my sin nature is still in here with me. So yes I struggle and try to keep the planning and thinking to God. He goes before me, behind me and beside me in everything and I trust him. I do not trust myself; I have a bad habit of not making wise decisions.

Oh and this mantle isn’t so heavy or too warm that I would want to remove it. This mantle is the perfect accessory to anything I wear and is always in style. It has many looks but mine happens to be a widow’s mantle right now. After walking in the coldness of the world for so many years I find that as I age I take a chill more quickly now. The cold gets deeper into my bones so I need to monitor my core temperature at all times. This helps keep my wits about me so I won’t be taken advantage of. I am aware that there are highwaymen out there, so I draw my mantle about me for protection against them and walk on. As I walk against the cold blasts of the world, my core remains warm, but my extremities are cold to the touch. My heart is always protected under this mantle so the rest of my body always warms up eventually. I am diligent about protecting my heart, the core of my being my relationship with the Father, because once it stops I will fall asleep and never wake up. I have to keep moving because hypothermia is sneaky and whispers to me about resting and giving up. I am careful to keep moving and try to rest when I need to. 

 Steve had such a beautiful mantle; he was so protected as he crossed this country in that big truck. He never had an accident but assisted people who had. His belongings contained several extra blankets for just such occasions. I asked him why he had so many blankets on the truck. He replied, "To put around people in shock after an accident".  He met so many people, and brought joy and comfort to those people God chose to bring into his path. You see he went fully under cover since his first heart attack. He only stepped where God told him to step, when he told him to step. He was walking blind and God led the way. Once or twice Steve tried to walk his own path, you see his sin nature was there with him too. He peeked out, and got slapped in the face so hard by the world that he wrapped that mantle around him twice.

We all need to be warm; the cold is not a comfortable place to be. Hypothermia lulls us to sleep so we can’t fulfill our destinies properly. We must keep our wits about us so we can help others realize they have a mantle too and they need just pull it up around them. Even if you feel your mantle has been tattered or is too dirty, it is still a source of warmth and protection. Pull it around you anyway, I bet it is nicer than freezing to death in the cold of the world. Besides, when you wake up out of your hypothermic sleep, our creator who never sleeps, will have repaired the mantle around you, or more likely given you a brand new one. He likes to replace dirty rags. Ever hear of beauty for ashes?